Hickson had known each other for
many years.
"We used to know one another," said Mr. Bobbsey to his children. "But
it's been a good many years since I have seen him."
"Yes, it has been a good many years," said Mr. Hickson, in rather a
sad voice. "And they haven't been altogether happy years for me,
either; I can tell you that, Dick."
"I'm sorry to hear you say so," replied Mr. Bobbsey.
"Were you in lots of railroad wrecks, and did the firemans have to
come and get you out?" asked Freddie. To him railroad wrecks seemed
very bad things, indeed, though having the firemen come was something
he always liked to watch.
"No, this is the only railroad wreck I have ever been in," said Mr.
Hickson. "I don't want to be in another, either. No, my bad luck
didn't have anything to do with wrecks or firemen. I'll tell you my
story after supper," he said to Mr. Bobbsey.
"Will you tell us a story, too?" begged Flossie.
"I'm afraid my kind of story isn't the kind you want to hear," said
the man, smiling rather sadly.
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