"I know how to get past that fence," the little twin went on.
"How?" asked his father, rather absentmindedly. "How?"
"Just cut the wires!" said Freddie, as though no one but himself had
thought of that. "If I had one of those cutter-things the telephone
man had, when he climbed the pole in front of our house, I could cut
the wires and we could go right on up the creek."
"Yes, I suppose so, my little fat fireman," said Mr. Bobbsey. "But I
don't believe the man who put that fence up there would let us cut the
wires."
"It's queer," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "That fence wasn't across the creek
before, was it?"
"I don't know," answered her husband. "It looks as though it had been
put up lately--even last night, perhaps. But I haven't been along the
creek in some time, so I can't be sure."
"It wasn't here last week, that's certain," Captain White spoke. "For
I was up here then fishing, and I didn't see it. I fancy that Mr.
Hardee knows something about it."
"I shouldn't wonder," agreed Mr. Bobbsey. "Now the question is: What
are we to do? We can't go on through the fence, and we can't very well
go around it, for the Bluebird won't float on dry ground. And I don't
want to go back. This is the only way to get to Lake Romano."
"I know what to do, papa," spoke Flossie. "We can ask that man to take
down the wires, if Freddie can't cut them with the cutter-thing.
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