Hank looked at the broken wagon.
"Well, we're done now," he announced, with as little concern as if the party had been safely landed on Aunt Emily's piazza, instead of in a hole on the roadside.
"Do you mean to say you can't fix it up?" Mr. Bobbsey almost gasped.
"Not till I get the stage to the blacksmith's," replied Hank.
"Then, what are we going to do?" Mr. Bobbsey asked, impatiently.
"Well, there's an empty barn over there," Hank answered. "The best thing you can do is pitch your tent there till I get back with another wagon."
"Barn!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey.
"How long will it take you to get a wagon?" demanded Mr. Bobbsey.
"Not long," said Hank, sprucing up a trifle. "You just get yourselves comfortable in that there barn. I'll get the coach to one side, and take a horse down to Sterritt's. He'll let me have a horse and a wagon, and I'll be back as soon as I kin make it."
"There seems nothing else to do," Mr.
