efore seven o'clock that evening, on account of
the delay over the tire.

"Who is that crying, Dick?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

"Crying? Why, I don't hear--yes, I do, too!" her husband added, as the
sound of sobs came to his ears. He looked to make sure his own children
were all right and then glanced about.

As he did so there came from a little clump of trees, not far from the
grove where the Bobbseys had eaten lunch, a ragged boy, who seemed in
pain or distress, for he was crying very hard.

"Oh, the poor lad!" said Mrs. Bobbsey in a kind voice. "Go see what the
matter is, Dick! He is in trouble of some sort! I wonder who he is?"

"Yes, without doubt, the lad's in trouble. We'll see what we can do,"
answered the father of the twins.

The crying boy walked slowly toward the Bobbsey family, and now the
twins, hearing his sobs, looked up in wonder from their
flower-gathering.

CHAPTER VIII

ANGRY MR. BLIPPER

"Why, it's Bob Guess!" cried Bert, dropping his bunch of flowers, so
excited was he. "It's Bob Guess!"

"So it is!" agreed Nan. "And he's crying."

There was no doubt of that: It was Bob Guess, the lad the Bobbsey twins
had seen working at the merry-go-round engine the day of the Sunday
school picnic. Bob came slowly along, sobbing hard.

"What's the matter, Bob?" asked Bert, who had taken a liking to the
ragged chap. For the time being Mr. Bobbsey's missing coat and the lap
robe were forgotten. "Why are you crying?"

"Can we help you?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

Bob Guess ceased sobbing and looked up. He seemed surprised to see the
children and their parents.

"Oh, I--I didn't know anybody was here," he stammered.

"That's all right," said Mr. Bobbsey. "If there's anything we can do to
help you---- Where's Mr. Blipper, by the way? There is something I
should like to ask him. Or perhaps you can tell me."

"Not now, Dick, not now," said Mrs. Bobbsey in a whisper, with a shake
of her head at her husband. She knew what he wanted to ask--about his
coat and the robe. "Not now; he is too miserable," she went on.

"Has anything happened?" asked Mr. Bobbsey, changing his first line of
questions.

"Ye--yes," stammered Bob, not sobbing so hard now. "I--I've run away
from Mr. Blipper!"

"You've run away!" echoed Nan.

Bob nodded his head vigorously to show that he meant "yes," and he went
on:

"He treated me mean! There was a lot of hard work setting up the
merry-go-round at the Bolton Fair, and I h