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At last the warm days of Summer came, and the Rowe family started in a train for the seashore. Nettie had her Rag Doll, and Arthur carried his Plush Bear. The children had seats near the window in the train, and Arthur held his Bear up to look out. It was a warm day and the window was open.

“Be careful, Arthur!” called his mother. “Don’t put your head out!”

“I won’t,” the fat boy promised. But he did hold his Plush Bear part way out of the window. “I want to let him see things,” said Arthur.

Suddenly the train slowed up, and so quickly that the Plush Bear was jerked from the fat boy’s hand. Out of the car window fell the Plush Bear!

CHAPTER VII

ON THE BOARDWALK

Down, down, down out of the window of the moving train fell the Plush Bear! He heard Arthur cry as his toy was jerked from his hands, and the toy had a strange feeling inside him as he turned over and over in his plunge.

“Talk about somersaults!” thought Mr. Bruin as he sailed downward. “The Polar Bear should see me now! I wonder what is going to happen to me! I have turned more somersaults in a minute than he turned in a whole evening at the North Pole!”

“Arthur! Arthur! what is the matter?” called the fat boy’s mother, when she heard him cry.

“Oh, Mother! my Plush Bear has fallen out of the window!” Arthur answered. “I was showing him the sights, and the train jiggled him out of my hand!”

“And my Rag Doll almost went out of my window, but I held on to her,” added Nettie.

“Oh, you have lost your nice new Plush Bear!” exclaimed Mrs. Rowe. “I wonder if we can get him back?”

“I fancy so,” said Mr. Rowe, who was taking his family to the seashore. “The train is going to stop at this station, and I can run back and pick up Arthur’s toy.”

The fat boy felt better when he heard his father say this, but still he was afraid lest perhaps his plaything might have been broken in the tumble.

It was the sudden slowing of the train for the station stop that had caused Arthur to drop his Plush Bear. With a grinding of the brakes the cars came to a standstill, and Mr. Rowe, followed by Arthur, started for the door. Nettie also got down out of her seat.

“No, dear, you had better stay with me,” her mother said. “Daddy will get the Plush Bear back if it can be found.”

“Where you s’pose he is?” asked the little girl.

And now we must find that out ourselves.

Down! down! down! turning somersault after somersault, the Plush Bear fell. Arthur had held the toy up to the window just as the train was crossing a high bridge, beneath which ran a street. The railroad tracks were on an embankment, and in the street below trees were growing. The train ran over the bridge, or trestle, above the trees.

And it was into one of these trees, growing down in the street, that the Plush Bear fell. Right down among the branches he plunged, but as it was now Summer, and there were leaves on the trees, it was almost like falling on a soft sofa cushion.

“I’m glad this tree was here!” thought the Plush Bear, as he landed on a branch among the soft leaves. “If I had struck on the hard street or on the sidewalk there is no telling what would have happened. I don’t believe I’m at all hurt now.”

And indeed he was not. Aside from being shaken up and having his plush ruffled, the Bear was not in the least harmed. But had he landed on the road one of his springs inside or some of his wheels might have been broken or twisted, and he never could have growled again or moved his head or paws. That is, unless Mr. Mugg could have mended him.