Looking out of the engine room, Freddie could be seen farther back in the motor boat, in a place where boxes and barrels of food, and things for the boat, were kept. One of the side ports was open, and Freddie’s head was stuck out of this, so he could not see his mother and Flossie and the engineer looking at him.
“Well, I’m glad he’s all right,” said Mrs. Bobbsey with a sigh of relief. “Thank you for looking after him.”
“Oh, I like children,” said the man with a smile. “I have some little ones of my own at home.”
Mrs. Bobbsey and Flossie went into the storeroom. Freddie did not hear them, for his head was still out of the round window. There was no danger of his falling out, for he could not have got his shoulders through, so Mrs. Bobbsey was not frightened, even though the little boy was leaning right over deep water, through which the Swallow was gliding.
“Oh, where is my doll?” asked Flossie, looking about and not seeing it. “I want my rubber doll!”
“I’ll ask Freddie,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, and then, in a louder voice, she called:
“Freddie! Freddie! Where is Flossie’s doll? You mustn’t take it away from her. I shall have to punish you for this!”
For a moment it seemed as if the little boy had not heard what his mother had said. Then, when she called him again, he pulled his head in from the porthole and whispered:
“Please don’t make a noise, Mother! I’m fishing, and a noise always scares the fish away!”
“But, Freddie, fishing or not, you mustn’t take Flossie’s playthings,” his mother went on.