FREDDIE'S FISH
Although she was a little worried about Freddie, Mrs. Bobbsey felt quite
sure nothing very serious could happen to him. He would not go near
enough the railing of the deck to fall over, for he and Flossie, as well
as Bert and Nan, had promised not to do this while they were on the
_Swallow_. And if the little boy had gone "downstairs," as Flossie said,
he could be in no danger there.
"Even if he went to the motor room," thought Mrs. Bobbsey, "he could
come to no harm, for there is a man there all the while looking after
the engine. But I must find him."
Flossie was still sobbing a little, and looking about the deck as if, by
some chance, her doll might still be there.
"Tell me how it happened, Flossie," said Mrs. Bobbsey.
Her husband was down in the cabin, talking to Captain Crane and Cousin
Jasper. The cook was getting things ready for supper, one of the men was
steering, and another was looking after the engine. Nan and Bert were up
in the bow of the boat, watching the waves and an occasional seagull
flying about, and Flossie was with her mother. The only one of her
family Mrs. Bobbsey did not know about was Freddie.
"It happened this way," said Flossie. "I was playing up here with my
rubber doll, making believe she was a princess, and I was putting a gold
and diamond dress on her, when Freddie came up with a lot of string. I
asked him what he was going to do, and he said he was going to fish, and
he asked me if I had a piece of cookie."
"What did he want of a piece of cookie?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"He wanted it to fasten on his line for bait for the fishes, he said,"
went on Flossie. "But I didn't have any cookie. I did have some before
that, and so did Freddie. The cook gave them to us, but I did eat all my
piece up and so did Freddie. So I didn't have any for his fishline."
"Then what happened?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, as she started down the
companionway to look for Freddie.
"Well, Freddie asked me to go and get some more cookie from the cook,
and I did, 'cause I was hungry and I wanted to eat more. But I couldn't
find the cook, and when I came back upstairs again, and outdoors--here
on deck, I mean--I saw Freddie grab up my doll, and run down the other
stairs."
"Oh, well, maybe he only took it in fun," said Mrs. Bobbsey, and she was
not at all worried now, feeling sure Freddie was safe, though he might
be in some sort of mischief.
"Anyhow he took my doll," Flossie went on. "And he wouldn't bring her
back to me when I told him to. Then I--I cried."
"Yes, I heard you," said her mother. "But you mustn't be such a baby,
Flossie. Of course it wasn't right for Freddie to take your doll, but
you shouldn't have cried about a little thing like that. I'll tell him
he mustn't plague you."
"But, Mother! he was going to throw my doll into the ocean, I'm sure he
was."
"Oh, no, Flossie! Freddie wouldn't do a thing like that!"
"But I saw him tying a string to her, and I'm sure he was going to throw
her into the ocean."
"Well, then he could pull her out again."
"Yes, but I don't want my doll in the ocean. The ocean is salty, and if
salty water gets in her eyes it might spoil them."
Mrs. Bobbsey wanted to laugh, but she did not dare, for that would have
made Flossie feel worse than ever.
"What makes you think Freddie was going to toss your doll into the
ocean?" asked Flossie's mother.
"'Cause, before that he wanted me to do it to give her a bath. He had a
long string and he said, 'let's tie it to the rubber doll and let her
swim in the ocean.'"
"No, he mustn't do that, of course," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "And I'll tell
him so when I find him. But perhaps he didn't do it, Flossie."
"Oh, yes he did!" said the little girl. "When he ran downstairs with my
doll, and wouldn't come back when I hollered at him, he was tying a
string on her then. Oh, dear!"
"Never mind! I'll get your doll back," Mrs. Bobbsey said. "But first we
must find Freddie."
"He went down those stairs," said Flossie, pointing to a flight that led
to the motor room, where the engine was chug-chugging away, sending the
_Swallow_ over the waves. "He went down there."
The engine room of the motor boat was a clean place, not like the engine
room on a steamboat, filled with coal dust and a lot of machinery, and
Mrs. Bobbsey knew it would be all right for her and Flossie to go down
there and see what Freddie was doing.
"Now don't cry any more," Flossie's mother told her, giving the little
girl a handkerchief on which to dry her tears. "We'll get your doll
back, and I'll have to scold Freddie a little, I think."
"Maybe you can't find him," said Flossie.
"Oh, yes I can," her mother declared.
"You can't find him if he is hiding away."
"I don't think he will dare hide if he hears me calling him."
"Maybe he will if he's got my doll," pouted Flossie.
"Now, Flossie, you mustn't talk that way. I don't believe Freddie meant
to be naughty. He was only heedless."
"Well, I want my doll!"
It was no easy matter for little Flossie to get down into the engine
room of the motor boat. The little iron stairway was very steep, and the
steps seemed to be very far apart.
"Let me help you, Flossie," said her mother. "I don't want you to fall
and get yourself dirty."
"Oh, Mother, it isn't a bit dirty down here!" the little girl returned.
"Why, it's just as clean as it can be!"
"Still, there may be some oil around."
"I'll be very careful. But please let me go down all by myself,"
answered the little girl.
She was getting at that age now when she liked to do a great many things
for herself. Often when there was a muddy place to cross in the street,
instead of taking hold of somebody's hand Flossie would make a leap
across the muddy place by herself.
Knowing how much her little girl was disturbed over the loss of her
doll, Mrs. Bobbsey, at this time, allowed her to have her own way. And
slowly and carefully the stout little girl lowered herself from one step
of the iron ladder to the next until she stood on the floor of the
engine room.
"Now, I got down all right, didn't I?" she remarked triumphantly.
"Yes, my dear, you came down very nicely," the mother answered.
Down in the engine room a man was oiling the machinery. He looked up as
Mrs. Bobbsey and Flossie came down the stairs.
"Have you seen my little boy?" asked Freddie's mother. "My little girl
says he came down here."
"So he did," answered the engineer. "I asked him if he was coming to
help me run the boat, and he said he would a little later. He had
something else to do now, it seems."
"What?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Well, he said he wanted to go fishing. And as I knew you wouldn't want
him leaning over the rail I showed him where he could fish out of one of
the portholes of the storeroom. A porthole is one of the round windows,"
the engineer said, so Flossie would know what he was talking about. "I
opened one of the ports for him, and said he could drop his line out of
that. Then he couldn't come to any harm."
"Did he have a line?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Yes, a good, strong one. I guess he must have got it off Captain Crane.
He's a fisherman himself, the captain is, and he has lots of hooks and
lines on board."
"Oh, I hope Freddie didn't have a hook!" cried Mrs. Bobbsey.
"No'm," answered the engineer. "I didn't see any, and I don't think he
did have any. He just had a long string, and I thought all he was going
to do was to dangle it out of the porthole in the storeroom. He couldn't
come to any harm there, I knew, and I could keep my eye on him once in a
while."
"Did he have my rubber doll?" asked Flossie.
"I didn't see any doll," answered the engineer. "But he's in there now,"
he went on. "You can ask him yourself."
Looking out of the engine room, Freddie could be seen farther back in
the motor boat, in a place where boxes and barrels of food, and things
for the boat, were kept. One of the side ports was open, and Freddie's
head was stuck out of this, so he could not see his mother and Flossie
and the engineer looking at him.
"Well, I'm glad he's all right," said Mrs. Bobbsey with a sigh of
relief. "Thank you for looking after him."
"Oh, I like children," said the man with a smile. "I have some little
ones of my own at home."
Mrs. Bobbsey and Flossie went into the storeroom. Freddie did not hear
them, for his head was still out of the round window. There was no
danger of his falling out, for he could not have got his shoulders
through, so Mrs. Bobbsey was not frightened, even though the little boy
was leaning right over deep water, through which the _Swallow_ was
gliding.
"Oh, where is my doll?" asked Flossie, looking about and not seeing it.
"I want my rubber doll!"
"I'll ask Freddie," said Mrs. Bobbsey, and then, in a louder voice, she
called:
"Freddie! Freddie! Where is Flossie's doll? You mustn't take it away
from her. I shall have to punish you for this!"
For a moment it seemed as if the little boy had not heard what his
mother had said. Then, when she called him again, he pulled his head in
from the porthole and whispered:
"Please don't make a noise, Mother! I'm fishing, and a noise always
scares the fish away!"
"But, Freddie, fishing or not, you mustn't take Flossie's playthings,"
his mother went on.
Freddie did not answer for a moment. He had wound around his hand part
of a heavy cord, which Mrs. Bobbsey knew was a line used to catch big
fish. Freddie was really trying to catch something, it seemed.
"Is there a hook on that line?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, fearing, after all,
that her little boy might have found one.
"Oh, no, Mother, there's no hook," Freddie answered. "I just tied
on----" And then a queer look came over his face. His hand, with the
line wound around it, was jerked toward the open porthole and the little
boy cried:
"Oh, I got a fish! I got a fish! I got a big fish!"