“Oh, my gracious! Do you hear that, Nan? Do get down my coat and suit-case. You’re taller than I am.”
Her chum good-naturedly did as she was requested and Bess started down the aisle. Indeed, the two friends were about the first to leave the chair-car by the rear door.
Just as they got into the vestibule, however, Nan noticed that her chum’s hands were empty.
“Why, Bess Harley!” she cried. “Where’s my bag?”
“Your bag?” returned Bess, with wide-open eyes. “Why! haven’t you brought it?”
“Well!” But there! What was the use? Nan knew well just how heedless Bess was. There was positively no good in getting angry with her. “Here!” she exclaimed, thrusting the suit-case, the lunch box, and her chum’s own wrap into Bess’ hands. “Get a seat if you can and hold on to these while I go back for that bag.”
“I must have left it right in the chair you sat in,” said Bess, feebly.
Nan did not hear this. She had some trouble in getting back into the car, for she was stemming the tide of outflowing passengers.
She reached the spot at last. The more moderately moving passengers were all about her. On the floor between two of the chairs was the russet bag.
Nan seized it quickly and turned to hasten back to her chum. The aisle was clear for the moment and she ran.