“No, I guess that’s right. Well, I don’t know why Danny went in. But if he goes again maybe I’ll find out next time.”
By this time the voices of Flossie and Freddie had become high and shrill. They were evidently having trouble of some kind. And as Bert and Nan stood talking in the hall, Mrs. Pry was heard to say:
“Freddie! Freddie! Stop that!”
Then Flossie’s voice joined in with:
“Give me my doll, Freddie Bobbsey! Give me my doll else I’ll tell mother on you.”
“Mother isn’t at home, so you can’t tell her!” taunted Freddie.
“Well, I’ll tell her when she does come home. Give me my doll!”
“I guess we’d better go see what it is,” suggested Nan.
“Yes,” agreed Bert. “Dinah could make Flossie and Freddie mind better than Mrs. Pry can. But Dinah isn’t here, so we’ll have to do it.”
The two older Bobbsey twins hurried up to the playroom on the second floor. There they saw Mrs. Pry standing in the middle of the carpet, looking helplessly at Flossie and Freddie. The little girl was trying to pull one of her dolls away from her brother, who held on to it with all his might.