y-go-round in pieces on three or four big
wagons," Bert reported. "Something's the matter with the engine--it runs
by a steam engine, and something's the matter!"

"Bert, go call your father," said Mrs. Bobbsey, for her husband had gone
to the far side of the grove to get another ice cream tub from the truck
on which they were brought to the picnic. "We don't want any strange men
setting up a merry-go-round here. Call your father!"

CHAPTER IV

A MISSING COAT

Mr. Bobbsey came hurrying over to the ice cream pavilion, with Bert
almost running beside him to keep up with his father.

"What's all this, Mother?" asked Mr. Bobbsey, who, with his coat off and
his sleeves rolled up, was working hard to help the ladies at the Sunday
school picnic. "What's all this about a merry-go-round coming here?"

"I don't know that it is coming here," answered Mrs. Bobbsey, with a
smile. "But some sort of affair is thundering along the road. You can
see the crowd of children near it. A merry-go-round some one said. I
thought perhaps some men owning one of those traveling affairs had heard
about our picnic and had come here to set up a machine. We don't want
anything like that."

"No," agreed Mr. Bobbsey with a smile. "We don't. I'll go see about it,"
and off he went, followed by Bert. Nan, with Flossie and Freddie, had
already joined the group of children down near the road that extended
along one edge of the picnic grove.

As Bert and his father neared the place, a loud, hissing sound was heard
and a white cloud of steam shot into the air, while the little ones
screamed and scattered.

"What's that?" cried Bert.

"I hope those youngsters don't go too near!" murmured Mr. Bobbsey. "The
safety valve of his steam engine is blowing off. He's got too much
pressure on. It may be dangerous," and Mr. Bobbsey broke into a run,
which Bert imitated as well as he could with his shorter legs.

However, there was no great danger. As Mr. Bobbsey had said, the safety
valve of a steam engine, on one of the trucks which carried the
merry-go-round outfit, was blowing off, and a short, stout man, with a
very red face, and a lanky boy, wearing ragged clothes, were working
about the engine.

"Keep back, children! Keep back!" called Mr. Bobbsey, as he reached the
road. "This merry-go-round isn't going to be set up here. Keep back out
of danger!"

"That's what I wish they'd do, mister!" said the red-faced man in no
very friendly voice. "Th