Nan Sherwoods Winter Holidays | Page 9

obeyed her injunction and brought the light. Nan was kneeling in the corner before a small crate of slats in which was a beautiful, brown-eyed, silky haired water spaniel--nothing but a puppy--that was licking her hands through his prison bars and wriggling his little body as best he could in the narrow quarters to show his affection and delight.
"Well, I never!" cried Bess, falling on her knees before the dog's carrier, and likewise worshipping. "Isn't he the cunning, tootsie-wootsie sing? 'E 'ittle dear! Oh, Nan! isn't he a love? How soft his tiny tongue is," for the puppy was indiscriminate in his expressions of affection.
"I believe the men must have forgotten him," said Nan.
"It's a murderin' shame, as cook would say," Bess declared. "Let's let him out."
"Oh, no! we mustn't--not till we've asked leave."
"Well, who'll we ask?" demanded Bess.
"The baggage-man, of course," said Nan, jumping up. "I believe he's hungry, too."
"Who? the baggage-man?" giggled Bess.
"The puppy, of course," returned Nan.
"We'll feed him some of our pie," suggested Bess.
"He ought to have some warm milk," Nan said seriously.
"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed her chum. "Well, Nan Sherwood, I don't think anybody's thought to milk the cow this morning."
"Oh, be good, Bess," Nan admonished her. The pup began to whimper again. "Come on; let's find the man."
The girls ventured farther forward. When they opened the door of the car at that end, Bess screamed outright.
"Why! it's a tunnel, Nan," she ejaculated. "Do you see?"
"What a lot of snow there must be above us," her chum rejoined, with gravity.
"Why, this is just the greatest adventure that ever happened," Bess continued. "The men have tunneled through the drift from one car to the other. I wonder how thick the roof is, Nan? Suppose it falls on us!"
"Not likely," responded her chum, and she stepped confidently out upon the platform. The door of the forward car stuck and after a moment somebody came and slid it back a crack.
"Hullo, young ladies!" exclaimed the brakeman, who looked out. "What do you want forward, here?"
"We want to speak to the baggage-man, please," Nan said promptly.
"Hey, Jim!" shouted the brakeman. "Here's a couple of ladies to see you. I bet they've got something to eat in their trunks and want to open them."
There was a laugh in chorus from the crew in the forward baggage and express car. Then an older man came and asked the girls what they wished. Bess had grown suddenly bashful, so it was Nan who asked about the dog.
"The poor little thing should be released from that crate," she told the man. "And I believe he's hungry."
"I reckon you're right, Miss," said the baggage-man. "I gave him part of my coffee this morning; but I reckon that's not very satisfying to a dog."
"He should have some milk," Nan announced decidedly.
"Ya--as?" drawled the baggage-man. He had come into the car with the girls and now looked down at the fretting puppy. "Ya--as," he repeated; "but where are you going to get milk?"
"From the so-called cow-tree," said Bess soberly, "which is found quite commonly in the jungles of Brazil. You score the bark and the wood immediately beneath it with an axe, or machette, insert a sliver of clean wood, and the milky sap trickles forth into your cup--"
"How ridiculous!" interposed Nan, while the baggage-man burst into appreciative laughter.
"Well," said Bess, "when folks are cast away like us, don't they always find the most wonderful things all about them--right to their hands, as it were?"
"Like a cow-tree in a baggage car?" said Nan, with disgust.
"Well! how do you propose to find milk here?" demanded her chum.
"Why," said Nan, with assurance, "I'd look through the express matter and see if there wasn't a case of canned milk going somewhere--"
"Great! Hurrah for our Nan!" broke in Bess Harley, in admiration. "Who'd ever have thought of that?"
"But we couldn't do that, Miss," said the baggage-man, scratching his head. "We'd get into trouble with the company."
"So the poor dog must starve," said Bess, saucily.
"Guess he'll have to take his chance with the rest of us," said the man.
"Oh! You don't mean we're all in danger of starvation?" gasped Bess, upon whose mind this possibility had not dawned before.
"Well--" said the man, and then stopped.
"They'll come and dig us out, won't they?" demanded Bess.
"Oh, yes."
"Then we won't starve," she said, with satisfaction.
But Nan did not comment upon this at all. She only said, with confidence:
"Of course you can let this poor doggy out of the cage and we will be good to him."
"Well, Miss, that altogether depends upon the conductor, you know. It's against the rules for a dog to be taken into a passenger coach."
"I do think," cried Bess, "that this is the very meanest railroad that ever was. I am sure that Linda Riggs' father owns it. To keep a