"Mercy!" gasped Nan, and swung her feet over the edge of the berth. "Oh!" she squealed the next moment.
"What's the matter now?" demanded her chum.
"Oh! I feel like a poor soldier who's having his legs cut off. My! isn't the edge of this berth sharp?"
"But what do you know about its being half-past nine?" demanded Bess.
"And the train is standing still," said Nan. "Do you suppose we can be at
Tillbury?"
"Goodness! we ought to be," said Bess. "But it is so dark."
"And Papa Sherwood would be down in the yards looking for me before this time, I know."
"Well! what do you think it means?" demanded her chum. "And b-r-r-r! it's cold. There isn't half enough steam on in this car."
Nan was scrambling into her outer garments. "I'll see about this in a minute, Bess," she said, chuckling. "Maybe the sun's forgotten to rise."
Bess had managed to draw aside the curtain of the big window. She uttered a muffled scream.