At last Nancy exclaimed triumphantly:
“I’ve got it! Miss Rivers.”
“Do you happen to know of a Miss Rivers who has a lodging house, driver?” asked Billie, trying to appear calm and unafraid.
“No, Miss,” answered the cabbie with a queer laugh; “Miss Rivers and I a’n’t personally acquainted.”
“What are we going to do, Billie?” whispered Nancy.
“Let’s look in a city directory and see if we can’t find Miss Rivers’ Lodgings or Chambers or whatever it is,” suggested Billie. “Drive us to a city directory, cabbie.”
Once more the hansom started on its way.
“The worst of it is, Nancy,” observed Billie, after an uneasy pause, “the most terrible part of it is, I haven’t any money. I had given what I had to Cousin Helen on the ship to be changed with hers into English money, and I never got it back. I thought it would be time when we reached our lodgings.”
“And I did the same thing,” whispered Nancy. “I haven’t a copper cent.”
It was not long before the cab drew up at a pharmacy and the two girls jumped out. There were many “Rivers” in the city directory—“oceans of Rivers,” as Nancy remarked. At last they settled on Mrs. Hannah Rivers, Beekman Terrace, and Miss Felicia Rivers, 14 Jetson Row.