Part 14 (1/2)

Where could Freddie have hidden himself away in the hay, and stranger, still, why did he not answer the many calls made for him? For the children kept shouting as they searched.

Bert had made up his mind, after looking about for some time, that perhaps, after all, he had better go into the house and tell his father what had happened. Just then Tom Mason slid down from a high part of the haymow to a little hollowed-out place. As he landed, a crackling sound was heard, and then Tom cried:

”Oh, my! Now I have done it! Oh, dear! What a mess! Oh! Oh!”

”Have you found him? Is Freddie there?” asked Flossie from where she stood in the middle of the barn floor.

”No, but I slid right into a hen's nest, and I've broken all the eggs!” cried Tom. ”Oh, me! Oh, my!”

He managed to get to his feet, and there he stood, his hands held out in front of him, for they were dripping with the whites and yolks of the broken eggs. Tom's clothes were pretty well splashed up.

”What a sight I am!” he murmured. ”And I've broken all the eggs!”

”Never mind! You couldn't help it,” said Harry kindly. ”The old hen oughtn't to have laid her eggs in here, and they wouldn't have been smashed. Hens like to steal away, and lay their eggs in hay.”

”Oh, but you do look _so_ funny!” cried Nan, then she laughed in spite of her worry about lost Freddie.

”He--he looks like a cake before it's baked!” giggled Mabel.

They all laughed heartily at Tom's sorry plight.

”Please lend me a handkerchief, somebody,” he begged. ”I can't reach in my pocket to get mine, and there's some egg running in my eye.”

”I'll wipe it for you,” offered Bert, laughing so heartily that he could hardly stand up.

”Hark! What's that?” suddenly asked Nan.

They all stopped laughing at once. From somewhere down in the hay, near the smashed nest of eggs, came a voice, asking:

”What's the matter? Isn't anybody going to find me?”

”It's Freddie!” cried Nan.

”Freddie!” shouted Bert. ”Where are you?”

”Oh, Freddie is found! Freddie isn't lost any more!” exclaimed Flossie, jumping up and down in delight.

And then, from a little nest in the hay, crawled Freddie himself, rubbing his eyes, and pulling wisps from his tousled hair.

”Have you been there all the while?” asked Harry.

”I--I guess so,” answered Freddie, as if he hardly knew himself.

”Well, then, why didn't you answer us?” asked Nan. ”We were so frightened about you, Freddie. Why didn't you answer when we called?”

”I--I guess I was asleep,” he said. ”I didn't hear you until you all began to laugh. Then I woke up.”

And that was what had happened. Freddie had found a good hiding place in a hole in the hay, and, while waiting for Harry to come and look for him, the little chap had dozed off, it was so warm and cozy in his hay-nest. And he had slept all through the search made for him, not hearing the calls. But when Tom rolled into the hen's nest, and the others laughed so heartily at him, that awakened the sleeping ”little fat fireman.”

”My! But you gave us a fright!” said Nan. ”But it's all right now, dear,” and she helped Freddie pull the hay out of his hair.