"Yes," answered the conductor. "The train has to wait here five minutes to have some trunks taken off. But don't be too long. I hope you may find the little boy's toy."
Arthur hoped so himself, as he hurried down to the street level.
"Where do you think my Bear is, Daddy?" he asked.
"It must be somewhere near the bridge," was the answer. "I heard you call out as the train rumbled over it."
Along the street which ran near the railroad walked Arthur and his father. As they walked they looked carefully on the ground for sight of the Plush Bear, but he was not to be found.
"I'm sure you must have dropped him about here," said Mr. Rowe, as he and the fat boy stood beneath the railroad bridge. "But he isn't in sight. Perhaps some one picked him up."
"Oh, is my nice Plush Bear gone?" sighed Arthur.
He looked all around, but Mr. Bruin, as the Bear was sometimes called, was not in sight. Then a ragged little boy, who had been flying a kite, came running along the street.
"What's the matter?" asked the ragged lad. "Did you lose your ball?"
"No; it's my Plush Bear," answered Arthur. "I dropped him out of the car window, but I don't see him now."