"Are we all right now?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, as her husband came down
to the cabin.
"Yes, all right again," he said. "There really was not much danger,
once we got the motor started."
"Is it raining yet?" asked Freddie, who was sitting in his mother's
lap, wrapped in a sweater.
"Indeed it is, little fat fireman," his father answered. "You wouldn't
need your engine to put out a fire to-night."
The patter of the raindrops on the deck of the houseboat could still
be heard, and the wind still blew hard. But the thunder and lightning
were not so bad, and gradually the storm grew less.
"Well, we'd better get to bed now," said Mr. Bobbsey. "To-morrow we
shall go to the big lake."
"Did the storm take us far back down the creek?" asked Bert.
"Not more than a mile," said his father.
"And the man can't tie us in with wire again, can he?" Freddie wanted
to know. "If he does, and I had one of those cutter-things, I could
snip it."
"You won't have to, Freddie," laughed Bert.
"Speaking of that mean farmer reminds me of the poor boy who ran away
from him," said Mrs. Bobbsey to her husband, when the children had
gone to bed. "I wonder where he is to-night, in this storm?"
"I hope he has a sheltered place," spoke the father of the Bobbsey
twins.
Not very much damage had been done by the storm, though it was a very
hard one.
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