“It’s your own, silly!” replied Sim. “I’m almost smothered! I wish they’d go out so we could breathe! Don’t hiss so; they’ll hear you.”
“That there trunk of your’n might have got over in th’ freight office by mistake,” said the agent. “S’posin’ we look there.”
“Suppose we do,” agreed the chaplain, who was fast losing what little patience he had.
Then the two men left the baggage room, and on his way out the agent pulled the switch controlling the dim and dirty ceiling light.
The imprisoned girls were left in darkness!
CHAPTER XIX
Strange Talk
“It seems to me,” remarked Terry disgustedly, as the agent pulled the door of the baggage room shut and his footsteps and those of the chaplain died away in faint echoes, “it seems to me that we just get into one scrape after another. This is a pretty kettle of fish!”
“Or something!” gloomily agreed Sim.
“Can you turn around so you can be sort of on your hands and knees?” asked Arden, ignoring Terry’s remark. “Try it. Sim and I will squeeze away over to one side.”
“Oooff!” grunted Terry as she attempted to change her position. “I’m almost over! Don’t mind if you get a black eye, Sim. It will only be from my elbow.”