"Well, I suppose they have as much right to them as we have," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "But I would like to get enough for some pies."
"I can show you where there are more than there are around here," offered Tom. "It's a little far to walk, though."
"Well, we're not tired, for we just came out," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "So if you'll take us there, Tom, we'll be very thankful."
"Come on," said the boy, whose face was once more covered with blue stains. "I'll show you."
The other berry pickers, who did not believe Tom knew of a better place, said they would stay where they were, and, perhaps, by hard work they might fill their pails or baskets, and so Tom and the Bobbseys went off by themselves.
Tom, indeed, seemed to know where, on the island, was one spot where grew the largest and sweetest blueberries, and the gypsies, if the members of the tribe did come to gather the fruit, seemed to have passed by this place.
"Oh, what lots of them!" cried Bert, as he saw the laden bushes.
"Yes, there's more than I thought," said Tom. "I'll get my basket full here all right."
Soon all were picking, though Flossie and Freddie may have put into their mouths as many as went in their two baskets. But their mother did not expect them to gather much fruit.
They had picked enough for several pies, and Mrs. Bobbsey was looking about for the two smaller twins who had wandered off a little way, when she heard Flossie scream.