“Oh, oh!” she gasped. “I’m Miss Nelson.”
“All right. Here she is, Jim! Right this way to the ’bus. Where’s your check, Miss? All right. Have the trunk and bag up some time to-night—if they are here.”
“They should have come on the earlier train,” explained Nancy.
“All right. Then you’ll git ’em on this load. There’s the ’bus, Miss. Yes! there’s room for you in there.”
The omnibus was backed up against the platform under the hood of the station. There was a crowd of laughing, chattering girls before her in the vehicle.
“Now, Jim! you can’t put another livin’ soul in this ’bus—you know you can’t,” cried one, to the driver.
“Boss says so, Miss,” growled Jim.
“What do you think we are—sardines? Oh! my foot!” shrieked another girl.
“And she’s a greeny, too. Any of you ever see her before?” demanded one of the girls nearest the half-closed door.
“Say! what’s your name?” asked another girl, leaning out to speak to Nancy.