“How did you youngsters come to run away?” asked Bert, when he was driving the goat wagon back through the woods again, taking a path that was not quite so bumpy as the first one.  “My goodness!  I came back from daddy’s office to find mother and Nan looking everywhere for you.  How did you happen to run away?”

“We didn’t runned away,” said Flossie, who was so excited over what had happened that she forgot to speak the way her teacher in school had told her to.  “Whisker runned away with us.”

“I guess he didn’t go without being told, and without some one’s taking off his hitching strap,” said Bert, with a smile.

“Anyhow, we didn’t run much, Whisker just walked most of the time,” said Freddie.

“Well, it’s all the same,” returned Bert.  “I had to chase after you to find you.  Didn’t you hear me calling?”

“Yes, but we thought it was gypsies or Helen’s doll,” answered Flossie.  “We were looking for Mollie, you know.”

“You’ll not find her unless you find that band of gypsies,” said Bert.  “Anyhow, you mustn’t come off to the woods alone, you little children.”

“We had Whisker with us,” Freddie declared.  “And if any of the gypsy men had come he’d have butted ’em with his horns.”

“He might, and he might not,” went on Bert.  “Anyhow, I guess you had a nice ride.”

“We did,” said Flossie.  “Only we’re sorry we couldn’t find Helen’s doll.  How did you find us, Bert?”

“Oh, I could see by the wheel and hoof marks in the soft dirt which way Whisker had taken the wagon, and I just followed.”

“But what is the jolly news?” Freddie demanded.  “Are we going back to New York?”

“Better than that!” answered Bert.  “We’re going camping!”

“Camping?” cried the two little Bobbsey twins in the same breath.  “Where?” asked Freddie.  “When?” asked Flossie.

“It isn’t all settled yet,” answered Bert.  “You know daddy and mother talked about it when we were in the big city.  And to-day, when I was down at the lumberyard I heard daddy speaking to a man in there about some of the islands in Lake Metoka.  Daddy wanted to know which one was the best to camp on.”

“And did the man say which was a good one?” asked Freddie.

“I didn’t hear.  But I asked daddy afterward if we were going to camp this summer, and he said he guessed so, if mother wanted to.”

“Does mother want to?” asked Flossie eagerly.

“She says she does,” answered Bert.  “So I guess we’ll go to camp this summer all right.  Isn’t that jolly news?”

“Um,” said Freddie, not opening his mouth, for in one pocket of his little jacket he had found a sweet cracker he had forgotten, and he was now chewing on it, after having given his sister and Helen some.

“Oh, I wish we could go now and take Whisker with us!” cried Flossie.

“If we go we’ll take the goat cart!” decided Bert.

“And we’ll take our dog Snap, and our cat Snoop, too!” announced Freddie.  “They’ll like to go camping.”

Mrs. Bobbsey and Nan were anxiously waiting for Bert to come back with the runaways, and when he came in sight, driving the goat cart, the children’s mother hurried down the back road to meet them.

“Oh, my dears! you shouldn’t go away like that!” she called.

“Whisker wanted to go,” said Freddie.  “And we had a nice ride even if it was bumpy.  And we thought we heard Mollie’s doll calling, but it was Bert.”

“Well, don’t do it again,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.  She always said that, whenever either set of twins did things they ought not to do, and each time they promised to mind.  But the trouble was they hardly ever did the same thing twice.  And as there were so many things to do, Mrs. Bobbsey could not think of them all, so she could not tell Nan and Bert, Flossie and Freddie not to do them.

“When are we going camping?” asked Freddie, as he got out of the goat cart.

“And what island are we going on?” asked Flossie.

“Oh, my!  I see you have it all settled so soon!” laughed Mrs. Bobbsey.  “Your father and I have yet to talk it over.

“We’ll do that to-night,” she went on.  “And now you children come in and get washed, and Dinah will give you something to eat.  You must be hungry.”

“We are,” said Flossie.  “And Helen’s hungry, too.  Aren’t you, Helen?” she asked.

“Um ­yes ­I guess so.”

“Well, we’ll soon find out,” laughed Mrs. Bobbsey.  “I think your mother won’t mind if I give you a little lunch with Flossie and Freddie.  Nan can tell her that you are here and are all right.  She doesn’t know you had a runaway ride in the goat wagon.”

“It was a bumpy ride, too,” explained Flossie.  “And we didn’t find Mollie the talking doll.”

“Well, maybe you will some day,” said Mrs. Bobbsey kindly.

And while Flossie, Freddie and Helen ate the nice little lunch, fat, black Dinah got ready for them, Bert and Nan went for a ride in the goat wagon, stopping at Mrs. Porter’s house to tell her that Helen was safe in the Bobbsey home.

“And now let’s talk about camping!” cried Bert that night after supper when the family, twins included, were gathered in the dining-room, the table having been cleared.  “When can we go?”

“I think as soon as school closes,” said his father.  “Summer seems to have started in early this year, and I want to get you children and your mother off to some cool place.  An island in the middle of the lake is the best place I can think of.”

“It will be fine!” cried Bert.  “Which island are we going to camp on?”

“There are two or three that would do nicely,” answered Mr. Bobbsey.  “I talked to some friends who own them, but I think one called Blueberry Island would suit us best.”

“It has a nice name,” said Nan.  “I like ­Blueberry Island!  It sounds just as if it were out of a book.”

“Is it a fairy island?” Freddie wanted to know, for he liked to have fairy stories read to him.

“Well, maybe it will turn out to be a fairy story,” said Mr. Bobbsey with a laugh.  “It’s the largest island in the lake, and several other parties are going there camping, so Mr. Ames, the man who owns it, told me.”

“Why do they call it Blueberry Island?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

“Because there are many blueberries on it,” answered her husband.  “And if we go there I shall expect you children to pick plenty of blueberries so Dinah can make pies.  I’m very fond of blueberry pie.”

“I like it, too,” said Freddie.  “We’ll take Whisker with us, and he can haul a whole wagon load of blueberries.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to pick as many as that,” said his father with a laugh.  “Two or three quarts would be enough for a pie, wouldn’t they, Mother?”

“I should hope so!  But do you really mean we are to go camping on Blueberry Island?”

“Surely,” answered Mr. Bobbsey.  “It will be a nice way to spend the summer.”

“And shall we live in a tent?” asked Freddie, “and cook over a camp fire? and go fishing? and ­and ­and ­”

“Yes, all of that and more, too,” said his father, catching up the little fat fireman and bouncing him toward the ceiling.

Then followed a happy hour talking over the plans for going camping on Blueberry Island, until Mother Bobbsey said it was time for Flossie and Freddie, at least, to go to bed.

Off they went to Slumberland, to dream of living in a big white tent with a flag on top of it.

“Just like a circus!” as Freddie said the next morning at breakfast.

“Or a gypsy camp,” added Flossie.  “Are there any gypsies on Blueberry Island, Daddy?”

“No, not a one.”

“’Cause if there was,” went on the little girl, “I wouldn’t take my doll with me.  I wouldn’t want her tooked away like Helen’s was.”

“We won’t let any gypsies come,” said Mr. Bobbsey.

One warm summer day came after another until it was nearly time to close the school, and all the boys and girls in Lakeport were thinking of vacation.  The Bobbseys were getting ready to go to the Blueberry Island camp.  Mr. Bobbsey had bought the tents and other things and they were to go to the island in a boat.

“And we’ll take Whisker, our goat, and Snap and Snoop,” said Flossie, “and my dolls and the bugs that go around and around and around and ­”

“You’ll have a regular menagerie!” said Nan.

“We’ll have some fun, anyhow,” cried Freddie.  “I wonder if we could hitch Snap and Whisker up together and make a team?”

“Let’s try,” suggested Bert.  “Come on, Freddie, we’ll find our dog.”

But when they called Snap he did not come running in from the yard or barn as he had always done before.  Bert and Freddie called, but there was no answering bark.

“Where is Snap, Dinah?” asked Bert, when a search about the house did not show the missing dog.

“I done seed him heah about half an hour ago,” said the colored cook, “an’ den, all to oncet, I didn’t see him ag’in.  I wonder if dat olé peddler could hab took him?” she asked, speaking half to herself.

Bert and Freddie looked at one another in surprise.  Where was Snap?