“You see. It’s no lunch basket. It’s something alive.”
“A dog?” suggested Dorothy.
“Maybe a cat.”
“Or a parrot?” again said Dorothy.
“Or a rabbit.”
“It couldn’t be a canary, I s’pose?” asked Dorothy.
“Or a pet goldfish?” giggled Tavia.
“How ridiculous!” returned the other girl.
Everybody went to breakfast when it was announced, save Mrs. White. She had a “railroad headache,” and lay back in her seat with closed eyes and an ice-pack upon her forehead. But Dorothy thought she ought to have something to “stay her stomach.”
“You know,” she said to Tavia, “this car will be taken off and we will not be able to get even a glass of milk for her before noon.”