Nan Sherwoods Winter Holidays | Page 8

Sherwood!" she cried. "Wish we had a
cup of coffee apiece."
At that very moment the porter and conductor entered the car with a
steaming can of the very comforting fluid Bess had just mentioned. The
porter distributed waxed paper cups from the water cooler for each
passenger's use and the conductor judiciously poured the cups half full
of coffee.
"You two girls are very lucky," he said, when he saw what was in the
lunch-box. "Take care of your food supply. No knowing when we'll get
out of this drift."
"Why, mercy!" ejaculated Bess. "I don't know that I care to live for
long on stale sandwiches and pie, washed down by the most miserable
coffee I ever tasted."
"Well, I suppose it's better to live on this sort of food than to die on no
food at all," Nan said, laughing.
It seemed to be all a joke at first. There were only a few people in the
Pullman, and everybody was cheerful and inclined to take the matter
pleasantly. Being snow-bound in a train was such a novel experience
that no unhappy phase of the situation deeply impressed any of the
passengers' minds.
Breakfast was meagre, it was true. The "candy butcher," who sold
popcorn and sandwiches as well, was bought out at an exorbitant price
by two traveling men, who distributed what they had secured with
liberal hand. Bess, more cautious than usual, hid the remains of her
lunch and told Nan that it was "buried treasure."
"Castaways ought to find treasure buried on their island to make it
really interesting," she told her chum. "Think of poor Robinson Crusoe
and his man Friday. Wouldn't they have been just tickled to death to

have found anything like this for their Sunday dinner, say?"
"I don't believe Friday would have cared much about railroad lunch
apple pies," said Nan. "One's palate has to become accustomed to such
delicacies."
"Now, don't be critical, Nan Sherwood, or I sha'n't give you any more
pie," cried Bess. "B-r-r-r! isn't it cold in here?"
"We really ought to speak to the janitor about it," said Nan, demurely.
"He isn't giving us enough steam. I shall move into another apartment
before next winter if they can't heat this one any better."
They whiled away the morning in conversation and reading. They had
to sit with their furs on. Nan looked like a little Esquimaux in hers, for
her Uncle Henry Sherwood had bought them for her to wear in the Big
Woods the winter before. Finally Bess declared she was too fidgety to
sit still any longer.
"I've just got to do something. Here's the conductor again. Let's stir him
up about the heat."
"I wouldn't," said more thoughtful Nan. "He looks as though he had his
own troubles."
"I don't care! We can't sit here and freeze to death. Say, Mr. Conductor,
can't we have any more heat? We're really almost frozen."
"Can't help it, little ladies," responded the man, rather gruffly. "You'll
find it worse when the coal gives out entirely."
"Oh, mercy!" Bess exclaimed, when he had gone on. "What a bear!"
But Nan looked suddenly disturbed. "Do you suppose that is possible?"
she asked.
"What's possible?"
"That the coal may give out?"

"What if it does?" queried her chum, blankly.
"Goodness me! How will they make steam if there's no fuel for the
fire?"
"Oh!" gasped Bess, "I never thought of that. Goodness, Nan, we'll be
frozen to icicles!"
"Not yet, I hope," said Nan, getting up briskly. "Let's see if we can't
stick our heads out of doors. I'm aching for a breath of fresh air."
They went forward and opened the vestibule door. The outside doors
were locked and the snow was piled against the little windows, high up
in the door panels.
"I believe this snow is piled completely over the cars," declared Nan.
"Isn't that funny?" said Bess. "How do you s'pose they'll ever dig us
out?"
"I wonder if it has stopped snowing?"
"I hope so!"
"We can't hear anything down here," continued Nan. "But we naturally
couldn't, if the train is buried in the snow."
"Dear me, Nan!" said her chum, in a really worried tone. "What do you
s'pose will happen to us?"
"We--ell--"
"And our folks! They'll be awfully worried. Why! we should have been
at Tillbury by eight o'clock, and here it is noon!"
"That is so," Nan said, with more assurance. "But of course they know
what has happened to the train. We're in no real danger."
"We--ell, I s'pose not," admitted Bess, slowly. "But it does seem

funny."
Nan chuckled. "As long as we see anything funny in the situation, I
guess we shall get along all right."
"Oh! you know what I mean," her chum said. "I wonder where