"He ought to hear that," Bert said, when he was done blowing his call, and his mother and sister had uncovered their ears. "But he doesn't come."
"Did you ask Dinah about him?" Mrs. Bobbsey questioned.
"Yes, and she said——Oh, she said something about a peddler!" cried Nan. "We forgot to ask her what she meant."
"Did Snap chase after a peddler?" asked Bert, for the colored cook was still at the window.
"No, I didn't see you all's dog chase after de peddler, honey lamb," replied Dinah. "But jest a little while ago a woman wif a red dress on, all trimmed wif yaller, real fancy like, comed to de back do' sellin' lace work. Snap was heah den, eatin' some scraps I put out fo' him, an' de woman patted him an' talked to him in a queer like way."
"She did!" cried Bert excitedly. "What'd she say?"
"Lan' goodness! You all don't s'pose I knows all de queer languages in de United States, does yo'?" asked Dinah, shaking her kinky head. "But de woman talked queer t' Snap, an' he wagged his tail, which he don't often does t' strangers."
"No," put in Flossie, shaking her head vigorously, "Snap don't often talk to strangers. He's awful dig-dignified with 'em. Isn't he, Freddie?"
"Well, he doesn't like tramps, and they're strangers," replied her brother. "Are peddlers tramps, Bert?"
"No, I guess not. But some of 'em look like tramps—pretty near, maybe."