A
goat! Oh, dear!"
"I'll go with him, 'cause Mike don't know Bert," offered Freddie.
"And I want to come!" said Flossie. "I want to see our goat."
"Your goat!" cried Nan.
"Yes, we're going to buy him. Mike brought him to sell to us."
And that is what had happened. When Mrs. Bobbsey followed Bert and Freddie
down to the hotel lobby, leaving Nan to look after Flossie in the rooms,
this is what she saw:
Out at the side entrance to the hotel was the goat and the rickety express
wagon, in charge of a red-haired, snub-nosed boy, Mike's small brother.
Mike himself, rather ragged, but clean and neat enough, was in the lobby,
sitting at his ease on one of the big leather chairs, waiting.
"I've brought de goat," he said to Freddie, as soon as he saw that small
Bobbsey with Bert.
"What does it all mean?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, while a crowd of the hotel
guests and help gathered about.
"Why, your little boy, Ma'am, what I rode in me goat wagon up and down our
block, said you'd buy Billy when I was ready to sell him. I'm ready now,
'cause I'm goin' to work. So I brought de goat an' wagon here to de hotel,
just as your little boy made me promise to do. It'll be five dollars for
de goat."
For a moment Mrs. Bobbsey did not know what to say. Then she turned to
Freddie and asked:
"Did you really tell him you'd buy his goat, Freddie?"
"I said you'd buy it for Flossie and me. Won't you? We can have such fun
with it!"
"A goat in a New York hotel!" cried Bert, laughing, "Oh, dear!"
"Hush, Bert," said his mother.
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