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.
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