Nan Sherwoods Winter Holidays | Page 9

that
door leads to?"
"Into another car," Nan said demurely.
"Is that so, Miss Smartie?" cried Bess. "But what car?"
She tried the door. It gave entrance to a baggage coach, dimly lit by a
lantern swinging from the roof. Nobody was in the car and the girls
walked hesitatingly forward.
"Oh!" squealed Bess, suddenly. "Here's my trunk."
"And here's mine," Nan said, and stopped to pat the side of the battered,
brown box stenciled "N.S." on its end. Nan had something very
precious in that trunk, and to tell the truth she wished she had that
precious possession out of the trunk right then.
"It's awfully cold in here, Bess," she said slowly.
"I guess they haven't got the steam turned on in this flat, either,"
returned Bess, laughing. "Nothing to freeze here but the trunks. Oh! oh!
what's that?"
Her startled cry was caused by a sudden sound from a dark corner--a
whimpering cry that might have been a baby's.
"The poor thing!" cried Nan, darting toward the sound. "They have
forgotten it, I know."
"A baby in a baggage car?" gasped Bess. "Whoever heard the like?"
CHAPTER V

WAIFS AND STRAYS
"What a cruel, cruel thing!" Nan murmured.
"I never supposed the railroad took babies as baggage," said her chum
wonderingly.
At that Nan uttered a laugh that was half a sob. "Silly! reach down that
lantern, please. Stand on the box. I'll show you what sort of a baby it
is."
Bess 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