“Then all of a sudden he changed,” Rhoda took up the story again. “He begged our pardon, said there was some confusion about baggage, and went away to find a steward.”
Nan turned to the steward at her side. “Is that the man whose baggage you are enquiring about?” she asked.
“Answers the description perfectly, Miss.” He was all politeness. “If you will pardon me now, I would like to see your luggage.”
The other girls moved to one side and attempted to get their scattered belongings out of the way. The cabin was small, and they had not yet finished unpacking. Laura and Amelia, whose cabin was across the corridor left—reluctantly.
The steward stepped over the other bags in the room and went directly to Nan’s trunk. He looked at it carefully, turned it over, and examined the tag. Finally, he looked up. “I’m sorry, Miss Sherwood,” he said, “The porters have made a mistake. This luggage was meant for room 846 instead of 648. See.”
Nan stepped over the luggage, as he had done, and looked at the tag. “No,” she said, more puzzled than ever, “that isn’t my luggage. I can see now that it isn’t quite the same color, though it is the same size and shape.”
“But where is yours?” Bess asked the question that was on the tip of Nan’s tongue.
“I’ll bring it presently.” The steward picked up the bag and walked out.
“Has the great mystery been solved,” Laura asked as she and Amelia came back into the cabin.
“Well, partly,” Nan said slowly, for she was still puzzled. “I don’t see how Papa made such a mistake. I don’t understand this yet.”