At last the little girl appeared on the side porch. Her yellow hair blew in the gentle June breeze, making sort of a golden light about her head.
"Freddie! Freddie!" she cried. "I can't find 'em! I can't find the book straps anywhere!"
"Why, I put 'em—I put 'em" said Freddie helplessly, trying to remember where he had put them, when he came in from school the day before.
"You've got to come and help me hunt for 'em!" Flossie went on. "Mamma says she can't find the straps."
"All right. I'll come," spoke Freddie. "Snap, you stay here!" he ordered, but the big dog only blinked, and stuck out his tongue farther than ever. Perhaps he had already made up his mind what he would do when Freddie let him alone.
Off toward the house went the little fat Freddie. He was pretty plump—so much so that his father often called him a little "fat fireman." Freddie was very fond of playing fireman, ever since the time he had owned a
