“This is queer,” said Bert, when a more careful search about the house and barn failed to find Snap.  “If he’s run away, it will be about the first time he has done that since we’ve had him.”

“Let’s ask at some of the houses down the street,” said Nan.  “Sometimes the children coax him in to play with them, and he forgets to come home because they make such a fuss over him.”

“Here’s Snoop, anyhow!” cried Freddie, coming out of the barn with the big black cat in his arms.  “He can go to camp with us.”

“But we want Snap, too!” added Flossie.  “We need a dog to keep the gypsies away.”

“There won’t be any gypsies on Blueberry Island!” Bert reminded them.

“You can’t tell,” declared Freddie.

“Maybe there’ll be one or two, an’ I don’t want them to take my doll the way they did Helen’s,” added Flossie.

“Didn’t Helen get her doll back?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, coming out of the house in time to hear what the children were saying.

“No’m, and she feels awful sad,” replied Flossie.  “And now the gypsies has took Snap.”

“The gypsies have taken Snap ­really, Flossie, you must speak more correctly,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.  “But what do you mean about Snap’s being taken?”

“He seems to be gone,” reported Bert.

“We’ve looked everywhere for him, and now we’re going to ask down the street,” added Nan.

“But we’ve got Snoop,” said Flossie, and so it was.  “We” ­that is, she and Freddie both ­had the big black cat, one twin carrying the head and the other twin the hind legs.  But Snoop was often carried that way and he did not mind.

“Snap not here?  That is odd,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.  “Have you whistled and called to him?”

“Every way we know,” replied Bert.  “Listen!” and, putting his fingers in his mouth, he gave such a shrill whistle that his mother and Nan had to cover their ears, while fat Dinah, waddling to her kitchen window, cried: 

“Good land ob massy!  What am dat ­a fire whistle?”

“I can whistle like that!” shouted Freddie, dropping his end of the black cat.  As it happened to be the head end he was carrying, this left the hind legs to Flossie and poor Snoop was thus dangling head down.

“Miaou!” he cried sadly, and then he gave a wriggle, and another one, and got loose.

Freddie made a sort of hissing sound on his fingers ­not at all a nice, loud whistle as Bert had done ­but it was pretty good for a little fellow.

“He ought to hear that,” Bert said, when he was done blowing his call, and his mother and sister had uncovered their ears.  “But he doesn’t come.”

“Did you ask Dinah about him?” Mrs. Bobbsey questioned.

“Yes, and she said ­Oh, she said something about a peddler!” cried Nan.  “We forgot to ask her what she meant.”

“Did Snap chase after a peddler?” asked Bert, for the colored cook was still at the window.

“No, I didn’t see you all’s dog chase after de peddler, honey lamb,” replied Dinah.  “But jest a little while ago a woman wif a red dress on, all trimmed wif yaller, real fancy like, comed to de back do’ sellin’ lace work.  Snap was heah den, eatin’ some scraps I put out fo’ him, an’ de woman patted him an’ talked to him in a queer like way.”

“She did!” cried Bert excitedly.  “What’d she say?”

“Lan’ goodness!  You all don’t s’pose I knows all de queer languages in de United States, does yo’?” asked Dinah, shaking her kinky head.  “But de woman talked queer t’ Snap, an’ he wagged his tail, which he don’t often does t’ strangers.”

“No,” put in Flossie, shaking her head vigorously, “Snap don’t often talk to strangers.  He’s awful dig-dignified with ’em.  Isn’t he, Freddie?”

“Well, he doesn’t like tramps, and they’re strangers,” replied her brother.  “Are peddlers tramps, Bert?”

“No, I guess not.  But some of ’em look like tramps ­pretty near, maybe.”

“What happened to the woman peddler?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

“Oh, I soon got rid ob her,” said Dinah.  “I tole her we was gwine t’ lib in de woods an’ we didn’t want no fancy lace ’cause it would git all ripped on de trees an’ bushes.  So she went off.”

“And what happened to Snap?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

“Oh, he was eatin’ his scraps de last I seen ob him,” answered Dinah.  “An’ he wagged his tail ag’in at de woman in de gay dress what looked like she was gwine on a picnic.”

“A dress of red and yellow,” said Nan.  “Isn’t that the color the gypsies wear?”

“Was the woman a gypsy?” asked Bert quickly.

“She mought o’ been,” answered the cook.  “She had gold rings in her ears, an’ she was dark.  Not as dark as me or Sam, but like some of them Eytalian men.  I didn’t pay much ’tention to her, ‘cause I was makin’ a cake.  But maybe Snap done followed her to see to it she didn’t take nuffin.  ’Cause ef she was a gypsy she mought take things.”

“Yes, and she’s taken Snap ­that’s what she’s done!” cried Bert.  “That’s what’s happened to our dog.  The gypsies have him!  I’m going to tell daddy, and have him get a policeman.”

“Now don’t be too sure,” advised Mrs. Bobbsey.  “Perhaps that peddler may have been a gypsy, and she may have made friends with Snap ­those people have a strange way with them about dogs and horses ­but it isn’t fair to say she took your pet.  He may have followed her just to be friendly.  You had better ask at some of the houses down the street first.”

“Come on!” cried Bert to Nan.  “We’ll go and ask.”

“And I’m coming, too!” added Freddie.  “I can call Snap and you can whistle for him, Bert.”

“And I’ll take Snoop, and Snoop can miaou for him,” said Flossie.

“No, you two little ones stay here,” directed Mrs. Bobbsey.  “I want to wash and dress you for dinner.  Let Bert and Nan hunt for Snap.”

“Then can’t we go in the goat cart?” Freddie asked.

“We’ll all have a ride when we come back,” promised Bert.  “We first want to find Snap, if we can, to see if he’ll hitch up with Whisker,” the boy told his mother.

So while Flossie and Freddie went into the house to get freshened up after their play, Nan and Bert went from house to house asking about Snap.  But though the big, trick dog sometimes went to play with the neighbors’ children, this time there was no sign of him.  One after another of the families on the block said they had not seen Snap.

Several servants had noticed the gypsy woman “peddler,” as they called her, for she had made a number of calls on the block, trying to sell her lace, but no one had seen Snap with her.

“Oh, I guess Snap just ran away for a change, as Flossie and Freddie sometimes do,” said Mr. Bobbsey when he came home that evening and had been told what had happened.  “He’ll come back all right, I’m sure.”

But Nan and Bert were not so sure of this.  They knew Snap too well.  He had never gone away like this before.  Flossie and Freddie, being younger, did not worry so much.  Besides, they had Snoop, and the cat was more their pet than was the dog, who was Bert’s favorite, though, of course, every one in the Bobbsey family loved him.

Several times that evening Bert went outside to whistle and call for his pet, but there was no answering bark, and when bedtime came Bert was so worried that Mr. Bobbsey agreed to call the police and ask the officers who were on night duty to keep a lookout for the missing animal.  This would be done, the chief said, since nearly all the officers in Lakeport knew Snap, who often visited at the police station.

Morning came, but no Snap was at the door waiting to be let in, though Bert was up early to look.  Snoop, the big black cat, was in his usual place, getting up to stretch and rub against Bert’s legs.

“But where’s Snap?” asked the boy.

“Miaou,” was all Snoop answered.  Perhaps he knew, but could not tell.

“Well, I’m afraid your dog is lost,” said Mr. Bobbsey, when at the breakfast table Bert reported that Snap was still away.  “We’ll put an advertisement in the paper and offer a reward if he is brought back.”

“Maybe he’s gone to camp on Blueberry Island and is waiting over there for us,” said Flossie.

“Maybe, my little fat fairy!” agreed her father, catching her up for a good-bye kiss.  “Let’s hope so.  And now you must soon begin to get ready to go camping.”

The children heard this news with delight, and, for a time, even lost Snap was forgotten.  He had often visited the neighbors before, and had always come back, so Bert hoped the same thing would happen this time.

There was much to do to get ready to go to Blueberry Island.  There were clothes to pack and food to be bought, for though it was not many miles from the island back to the mainland where there were stores, still Mrs. Bobbsey did not want to have to send in too often for what was needed.

The goat wagon was very useful for going on errands during the days that it took them to get ready to go off to live in the woods.  Bert and Nan, sometimes with Flossie and Freddie, rode here and there about town, and Whisker was as good as a pony, being strong and gentle.

Everywhere they went Nan and her brother looked for Snap and asked about him.  But, though many in Lakeport knew the dog, and had seen him on the day he was last noticed, no one could tell where he was.  No one could be found who had seen him with the gypsy woman ­if he had gone with her ­though a number said they had noticed the gaudy, red-and-yellow-dressed peddler strolling about with her lace.

“Our dog’s gone and Helen’s doll is gone,” said Nan the night before they were to go to camp.  “I wonder what will be taken next.”

“I hope they don’t get our Snoop,” said Flossie, as she went to look at the big black cat who was sleeping in the box, with a handle, in which he was to be taken to the island.

“And I hope they let Whisker alone,” said Freddie.

“Whisker can take care of himself, with his horns,” observed Bert.  “I’m not afraid of a gypsy trying to get our goat.”

The tents had been sent to the island, and a man would set them up.  Plenty of good things to eat were packed in boxes and baskets.  Dinah and Sam had made ready to go to camp, for they were included in the family.  Dinah was to do the cooking and her husband was to look after the boats and firewood.

“And, oh, what fun we’ll have!” cried Flossie the next morning, when the sun rose warm and bright and they started for Blueberry Island.

“It would be better if we had Snap,” said Bert.  “You don’t know how I miss that dog!”

“We all do,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.  “Perhaps we’ll find him when we come back, Bert.  Your father will come back from the island once or twice a week, and he’ll come to the house to see if Snap has come back.”

“He’ll never come back,” said Bert, with a sad face.  “I’m sure the gypsies took him, and they’ll keep him when they find out he can do circus tricks.”

“Well, maybe we’ll find the gypsies and, if they have Snap, we can make them give him up,” said Nan.

“I hope so,” murmured Bert.

There was a small steamer that made trips across the lake, and in this the Bobbseys were to go to Blueberry Island, as they had so many things to take with them that a small boat would never have held them all.