The little steamer picked her way gingerly to the pier. The gang plank was let down, and presently the Golden Girl was tripping ashore on high-heeled shoes. Nancy stepped forward with a well-meaning smile. “You are Miss Anne Poole?” she said, “And I am Nancy Batchelder from Round Robin. I’m glad to welcome you. My mother was sorry not to be here, too. But she is busy getting luncheon ready.” Anne Poole stared. Her hostess was busy, getting her own luncheon! What a funny place! Then she glanced around with a start; for already the gang plank was hauled in and the steamer was about to move away. “Oh, my bags!” she cried. “Didn’t anyone bring them ashore?”
“Three trunks have come off,” volunteered Nancy, as who should say,—“Isn’t that enough for anybody?”
“No, bags; two handbags besides. One has my jewelry in it. I left them on the seat. I thought someone would bring them.” Anne Poole stood helpless.
The steamer’s bell rang. “Oh, Captain! Wait a minute! She’s left her bags!” Nancy called. Like a flash she jumped onto the steamer, over the railing, ran to the upper deck and soon reappeared with a big and a little bag, which the other girls helped her to hand ashore. Then once more she stood on the pier beside the astonished Anne, before either she or the Captain had recovered breath, or the steamer had got under way.
“We have to help ourselves and move quickly, or we get left, you see,” said Nancy, laughing at the girl’s amazed expression.
“I supposed there would be porters,” Anne repeated stiffly. “I never lift bags. But then, I never came to Old Harbor on the steamer before. Father always brought us down on the yacht.”
“It’s quite different when you come by steamer. You’ll find a lot of things different I guess,” grinned Nancy rather wickedly.
“I suppose so,” remarked Anne, lifting her eyebrows with a bored expression.