NAN SHERWOOD'S WINTER HOLIDAYS

Or, Rescuing the Runaways

by

ANNIE ROE CARR

1916

CHAPTER I

DOWN PENDRAGON HILL

Ta-ra! ta-ra! ta-ra-ra-ra! ta-_rat!_

Professor Krenner took the silver bugle from his lips while the strainechoed flatly from the opposite, wooded hill. That hill was the Isle ofHope, a small island of a single eminence lying half a mile off themainland, and not far north of Freeling. 

The shore of Lake Huron was sheathed in ice. It was almost Christmastime. Winter had for some weeks held this part of Michigan in aniron grip. The girls of Lakeview Hall were tasting all the joys ofwinter sports. 

The cove at the boathouse (this was the building that some of theLakeview Hall girls had once believed haunted) was now a smooth, well-scraped skating pond. Between the foot of the hill, on the brow ofwhich the professor stood, and the Isle of Hope, the strait was likewisesolidly frozen. The bobsled course was down the hill and across the icytrack to the shore of the island. 

Again the professor of mathematics--and architectural drawing--put thekey-bugle to his lips and sent the blast echoing over the white waste:

Ta-ra! ta-ra! ta-ra-ra-ra! ta-_rat!_

The road from Lakeview Hall was winding, and only a short stretch of itcould be seen from the brow of Pendragon Hill. But the roof and chimneysof the great castle-like Hall were visible above the tree-tops. 

Now voices were audible--laughing, sweet, clear, girls' voices, ringinglike a chime of silver bells, as the owners came along the well-beatenpath, and suddenly appeared around an arbor-vitae clump. 

"Here they are!" announced the professor, whose red and whitetoboggan-cap looked very jaunty, indeed. He told of the girls' arrival toa boy who was toiling up the edge of the packed and icy slide. WalterMason had been to the bottom of the hill to make sure that no obstaclehad fallen upon the track since the previous day. 

"Walter! Hello, Walter!" was the chorused shout of the leading group ofgirls, as the boy reached the elevation where the professor stood. 

One of the girls ran to meet him, her cheeks aglow, her lips smiling, andher brown eyes dancing. She looked so much like the boy that there couldbe no doubt of their relationship. 

"Hello, Grace!" Walter called to his sister, in response. 

But his gaze went past the chubby figure of his shy sister to anothergirl who, with her chum, was in the lead of the four tugging at therope of the gaily painted bobsled. This particular girl's bright andanimated countenance smiled back at Walter cordially, and she waved amittened hand. 

"Hi, Walter!" she called. 

"Hi, Nan!" was his reply. 

The others he welcomed with a genial hail. Bess Harley, who toiled alongbeside her chum, said with a flashing smile and an imp-light ofnaughtiness in either black eye:

"You and Walter Mason are just as thick as leaves on a mulberry tree, NanSherwood! I saw you whispering together the other day when Walter camewith his cutter to take Grace for a ride. Is he going to take you for aspin behind that jolly black horse of his?"

"No, honey, " replied Nan, placidly. "And I wouldn't go without you, youknow very well. "

"Oh! wouldn't you, Nan? Not even with Walter?"

"Certainly not!" cried Nan Sherwood, big-eyed at the suggestion. 

"Only because Dr. Beulah wouldn't hear of such an escapade, I guess, "said the wicked Bess, laughing. 

"Now! just for that, " Nan declared, pretending to be angry, "I won't tellyou--yet--what we were talking about. "

"You and Walter?"

"Walter and I--yes. "

"Secrets from your chum, Nan! You're always having something on the sidethat you don't tell me, " pouted Bess. 

"Nonsense! Don't you know Christmas is coming and everybody has secretsthis time of year?"

"Hurry up, girls!" commanded the red-haired girl who was helping pull onthe rope directly behind the chums. "I'm walking on your heels. It willbe night before we get on the slide. "

"We're in the lead, " Bess flared back. "Don't be afraid, Laura. "

"That may be, " said Laura Polk, "but I don't want Linda Riggs and hercrowd right on top of us. They're so mean. They came near running into usthe other day. "

"But the professor called 'em down for it, " said the fourth girl draggingthe bobsled, who was a big, good-natured looking girl with a mouthful ofbig white teeth and a rather vacuous expression of countenance when shewas not speaking. 

"He ought to send Linda Riggs and her friends down first, " Nan Sherwoodsuggested. 

"No, ma'am!" said Bess Harley, shrilly. 

"We're here ahead of 'em all. We can go first, can't we, ProfessorKrenner?"

"Certainly, my dear, " responded the professor. "Look over the sled, Walter, and see that it is all right. "

The handsome sled was almost new and there could be nothing the matterwith it, Walter was sure. Other parties of girls from the Hall, draggingbobsleds, were appearing now. They were all the bigger girls of theschool, for the younger ones, or "primes, " as they were designated, hadtheir own particular hill to slide on, nearer the Hall. 

Dr. Beulah Prescott, principal of Lakeview Hall, believed in out-of-doorsports for her girls; but they were not allowed to indulge in coastingor sleighing or skating or any other sport, unattended. ProfessorKrenner had general oversight of the coasting on Pendragon Hill, becausehe lived in a queerly furnished cabin at the foot of it and on the shoreof the lake. 

He marshalled the sleds in line now and took out his watch. "Threeminutes apart remember, young ladies, " he said. "Are you going with yoursister's sled, Walter?"

"This first time, " said the boy, laughing. "Grace won't slide if I don't, although Nan knows how to steer just as well as I do. "

"Of course she does, " said Bess, with assurance. "We don't need a boyaround, " she added saucily. 

"They're very handy animals to have at times, " said the professor, drily. "Wait a bit, Miss Riggs!" he added sharply. "First come, first served, ifyou please. You are number three. Wait your turn. "

"Well, aren't those girls ever going to start?" snapped the tall girl, richly dressed in furs, who had come up with a party of chums and a veryhandsome "bob. "

Professor Krenner was quite used to Linda's over-bearing ways, and sowere her fellow-pupils. They made the rich and purse-proud girl no morebeloved by her mates. But she could always gather about her a fewsatellites--girls who felt proud to be counted the intimates of thedaughter of a railroad president, and who enjoyed Linda Riggs' bounty. 

Not that there were many girls at Lakeview Hall whose parents andguardians were not well off. The school was a very exclusive school. Itscourse of instruction prepared the girls for college, or gave them a"finish" for entrance upon their social duties, if they did not elect toattend a higher institution of learning. 

On this occasion Professor Krenner paid no further attention to LindaRiggs. Walter Mason had already taken his place on his sister's sled atthe steering wheel in front, with his boots on the footrests. His sistergot on directly behind him and took hold of his belt. Behind her Nan, Bess, little, fair-haired Lillie Nevins, who was Grace's particular chum, and who had ridden over on the sled from the Hall, Amelia Boggs, thehomely girl, and Laura Polk, the red-haired, sat in the order named. There were rope "hand-holds" for all; but Grace preferred to cling toher brother. The first trip down the hill was always a trial to timidGrace Mason. 

"All ready?" queried Walter, firmly gripping the wheel. 

"Let her go!" cried Laura, hilariously. 

"And do give somebody else a chance!" exclaimed Linda. 

Professor Krenner's watch was in his hand. "Go!" he shouted, and as thered-haired girl's heels struck into the hard snow to start the creakingrunners, the old gentleman put the bugle to his lips again and blewanother fanfare. 

"We're off!" squealed Bess, as the bobsled slipped over the brow of thedescent and started down the slippery slide with a rush. 

Fifty feet below the brink of the hill a slight curve in the slide arounda thick clump of evergreens hid the sled from the group at the top. Theycould hear only the delighted screams of the girls until, with a loudring of metal on crystal, the runners clashed upon the ice and thebobsled darted into view again upon the frozen strait. 

The first bobsled ran almost to the Isle of Hope before it stopped. Bythat time Professor Krenner had started the second one, and the impatientLinda was clamoring for what she called her "rights. "

"We'll show 'em how to speed a bobsled, if you'll give us a chance, " shecomplained. "That thing of the Mason's didn't get to the island. We'llshow 'em!"

Nan Sherwood and her friends piled off the first sled upon the ice withgreat delight and much hilarity. 

"I declare!" gasped Laura. "I left my breath at the top of the hill. O-o-o! What a ride!"

"It's ju-just like swinging too high!" burst out flaxen-haired Lillie. 

Nan and Bess had brought their skates slung over their shoulders by thestraps. Before getting up off the sled the chums put these on and thenwere ready to draw the heavy sled back across the ice to the shore. 

"Get aboard--all of you!" Bess cried. "All you lazy folks can have aride!"

"And do hurry!" added Nan. "Here come some more bobs. "

The second sled did not gain momentum enough to slide half-way across thestrait between the mainland and the Isle of Hope. But now appeared the"Linda Riggs' crew, " as Laura called them, and their shiny, new sled. Outof the enveloping grove which masked the side of Pendragon Hill it came, shooting over the last "thank-you-ma'am" and taking the ice with aringing crash of steel on crystal. 

"Got to hand it to 'em!" exclaimed Walter, with admiration. "That's somesled Linda's got. "

"So's ours, " Bess said stoutly. "See, they're not going to run fartherthan we did. "

"I don't know about that, " murmured Nan, honestly. 

"Come on!" Bess cried. "Let's get back and try it again. I know thosehorrid things can't beat the _Sky-rocket_. "

The other girls had already piled upon the bobsled. Walter started themwith a push and called a "good-bye" after them. He was going to put onhis own skates and skate up the strait to the Mason house. The family wasstaying here on the shores of Lake Huron much later than usual this year. 

Nan Sherwood and Bess Harley had no trouble at all in dragging theirmates across the ice upon the _Sky-rocket_. Linda's sled, the _Gay Girl_, did go farther than the first-named sled, and Bess was anxious to get tothe top of the hill to try it over again. 

"It will never do in this world to let them crow over us, " Bess declared. 

She and Nan slipped off their skates at the edge of the ice and all sixlaid hold of the long rope to pull the _Sky-rocket_ up the hill. 

A fourth bobsled rushed past them, the girls screaming and laughing; andthen a fifth flew by. 

"Mrs. Gleason said she would come over before supper time, " Laura Polksaid. Mrs. Gleason was the physical instructor at the Hall. 

"Let's get her on our sled!" cried Bess. 

"Let's!" chorused the others. 

But no teacher save Professor Krenner was on the brow of the hill whenthe _Sky-rocket_ was hauled into position again. This time Nan steered, with firmly braced feet, her mittened hands on the wheel-rim, and herbright eyes staring straight down the course. 

"Are you ready?" cried the professor, almost as eager as the girlsthemselves. Then he blew the warning blast to tell all below on thehillside that the _Sky-rocket_ was coming. 

Ta-ra! ta-ra! ta-ra-ra-ra! Ta-_rat!_

With a rush the sled was off. It disappeared around the evergreen clump. The hum of its runners was dying away when suddenly there sounded achorus of screams, evidently from the _Sky-rocket_ crew. Following this, a crash and a turmoil of cries, expressing both anger and fright, rangout upon the lower hillside. 

CHAPTER II

THE FAT MAN WITH HIS GROUCH

Nan Sherwood had steered this big bobsled down Pendragon Hill many times. She had no fear of an accident when they started, although the rush ofwind past them seemed to stop her breath and made her eyes water. 

There really was not a dangerous spot on the whole slide. It crossed butone road and that the path leading down to Professor Krenner's cabin. Atthis intersection of the slide and the driveway, Walter Mason had erecteda sign-board on which had been rudely printed:

STOP! LOOK! LISTEN!

Few people traversed this way in any case; and it did seem as thoughthose who did would obey the injunction of the sign. Not so a heavy-set, burly looking man who was tramping along the half-beaten path just as Nanand her chums dashed down the hill on the bobsled. This big man, whosebroad face showed no sign of cheerfulness, but exactly the opposite, tramped on without a glance at the sign-board. He started across theslide as the prow of the _Sky-rocket_, with Nan clinging to the wheel, shot into view. 

The girls shrieked in chorus--all but Nan herself. The stubborn, fat man, at last awakened to his danger, plunged ahead. There was a mightycollision!

The fat man dived head-first into a soft snow bank on one side of theslide; the bobsled plunged into another soft bank on the other side, andall the girls were buried, some of them over their heads, in the snow. 

They were not hurt--

"Save in our dignity and our pompadours!" cried Laura Polk, thered-haired girl, coming to the surface like a whale, "to blow. "

"Goodness--gracious--Agnes!" ejaculated the big girl, who was knownas "Procrastination" Boggs. "What ever became of that man who gotin our way?"

Nan Sherwood had already gotten out of the drift and had hauled herparticular chum, Bess Harley, with her to the surface. Grace Mason andLillie Nevins were crying a little; but Nan had assured herself at aglance that neither of the timid ones was hurt. 

She now looked around, rather wildly, at Amelia Boggs' question. The fatman had utterly disappeared. Surely the bobsled, having struck him only aglancing blow, had not throw him completely off the earth!

Bess was looking up into the snowy tree-tops, and Laura Polk suggestedthat maybe the fat man had been only an hallucination. 

"Hallucination! Your grandmother's hat!" exclaimed Amelia Boggs. "If hiswasn't a solid body, there never was one!"

"What happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object?"murmured Laura. 

"Both must be destroyed, " finished Bess. "But I see the tail of our bob, all right. "

Just then Nan ran across the track. At the same moment a flounderingfigure, like a great polar bear in his winter coat, emerged from theopposite drift. The fat man, without his hat and with his face very redand wet, loomed up gigantically in the snow-pile. 

"Oh! Nan Sherwood!" cried Laura. "Have you found him?"

The fat man glared at Nan malevolently. "So your name is Sherwood, itis?" he snarled. "You're the girl that was steering that abominablesled--and you steered it right into me. "

"Oh, no, sir! Not intentionally!" cried the worried Nan. 

"Yes, you did!" flatly contradicted the choleric fat man. "I saw you. "

"Oh, Nan Sherwood!" gasped Amelia, "isn't he mean to say that?"

"Your name's Sherwood, is it?" growled the man. "I should think I'd hadtrouble enough with people of _that_ name. Is your father RobertSherwood, of Tillbury, Illinois?"

"Yes, sir, " replied the wondering Nan. 

"Ha! I might have known it, " snarled the man, trying to beat thesnow from his clothes. "I heard he had a girl up here at thisschool. The rascal!"

Professor Krenner had just reached the spot from the top of the hill. From below had hurried the crews of bobsleds number two and three. LindaRiggs, who led one of the crews, heard the angry fat man speaking sounfavorably of Nan Sherwood's father. She sidled over to his side of thetrack to catch all that he said. 

Nan, amazed and hurt by the fat man's words and manner, would havewithdrawn silently, had it not been for the last phrase the man used inreference to her father. Nan was very loyal, and to hear him called"rascal" was more than she could tamely hear. 

"I do not know what you mean, sir, " she said earnestly. "But if youreally _know_ my father, you know that what you say of him is wrong. Heis not a rascal. "

"I say he is!" ejaculated the man with the grouch. 

Here Professor Krenner interfered, and he spoke quite sharply. 

"You've said enough, Bulson. Are you hurt?"

"I don't know, " grumbled the fat man. 

"He can't tell till he's seen his lawyer, " whispered Laura Polk, beginning to giggle. 

"Are any of you girls hurt?" queried the professor, his red andwhite cap awry. 

"I don't think so, Professor, " Bess replied. "Only Nan's feelings. Thatman ought to be ashamed of himself for speaking so of Mr. Sherwood. "

"Oh, I know what I'm talking about!" cried the fat man, blusteringly. 

"Then you can tell it all to me, Ravell Bulson, " bruskly interposed theprofessor again. "Come along to my cabin and I'll fix you up. Mrs. Gleason has arrived at the top of the hill and she will take charge ofyou young ladies. I am glad none of you is hurt. "

The overturned crew hauled their bobsled out of the drift. Linda Riggswent on with her friends, dragging the _Gay Girl_. 

"I'd like to hear what that fat man has to say about Sherwood's father, "the ill-natured girl murmured to Cora Courtney, her room-mate. "I wagerhe isn't any better than he ought to be. "

"You don't _know_, " said Cora. 

"I'd like to find out. You know, I never have liked that Nan Sherwood. She is a common little thing. And I don't believe they came honestly bythat money they brought from Scotland. "

"Oh, Linda!" gasped Cora. 

"Well, I don't!" declared the stubborn girl. "There is a mystery aboutthe Sherwoods being rich, at all. I know they were as poor as church micein Tillbury until Nan came here to school. I found that out from a girlwho used to live there. "

"Not Bess Harley?"

"No, indeed! Bess wouldn't tell anything bad about Nan. I believe she isafraid of Nan. But this girl I mean wrote me all about the Sherwoods. "

"Nan is dreadfully close-mouthed, " agreed Cora, who was a weak girl andquite under Linda's influence. 

"Well! Those Sherwoods were never anything in Tillbury. How Bess Harleycame to take up with Nan, the goodness only knows. Her father worked inone of the mills that shut down last New Year. He was out of work a longtime and then came this fortune in Scotland they claim was left Mrs. Sherwood by an old uncle, or great uncle. I guess it's nothing much tobrag about. "

"Bess said once it might be fifty thousand dollars, " said Cora, speakingthe sum unctuously. Cora was poor herself and she loved money. 

"Oh, maybe!" exclaimed Linda Riggs, tossing her head. "But I guess nobodyknows the rights of it. Maybe it isn't so much. You know that there wereother heirs who turned up when Nan's father and mother got over toScotland, and one while Nan thought she would have to leave schoolbecause there wasn't money enough to pay her tuition fees. "

"Yes, I know all about that, " admitted Cora, hurriedly. She had a vividremembrance of the unfinished letter from Nan to her mother, which shehad found and shown to Linda. Cora was not proud of that act. Nan hadnever been anything but kind to her and secretly Cora did not believethis ill-natured history of Nan Sherwood that Linda repeated. 

Those of my readers who have read the first volume of this series, entitled "Nan Sherwood at Pine Camp, Or, The Old Lumberman's Secret, "will realize just how much truth and how much fiction entered into thestory of Nan's affairs related by the ill-natured Linda Riggs. 

When Mr. And Mrs. Sherwood started for Scotland to make sure of thewonderful legacy willed to Nan's mother by the Laird of Emberon'ssteward, Nan was sent up into the Peninsula of Michigan to stay with herUncle Henry and Aunt Kate Sherwood at a lumber camp. Her adventuresthere during the spring and summer were quite exciting. But the mostexciting thing that had happened to Nan Sherwood was the decision on herparents' part that she should go with her chum, Bess Harley, to LakeviewHall, a beautifully situated and popular school for girls on the shoreof Lake Huron. 

In "Nan Sherwood at Lakeview Hall, Or, The Mystery of the HauntedBoathouse, " the second volume of the series, were narrated the incidentsof Nan's first term at boarding school. She and Bess made many friendsand had some rivals, as was natural, for they were very human girls, inwhom no angelic quality was over-developed. 

In Linda Riggs, daughter of the rich and influential railroad president, Nan had an especially vindictive enemy. Nan had noticed Linda's eagernessto hear all the ill-natured fat man had to say about Mr. Sherwood. 

"I do wish Linda had not heard that horrid man speak so of PapaSherwood, " Nan said to Bess Harley, as they toiled up the hill againafter the overturning of the _Sky-rocket_. 

"Oh, what do you care about Linda?" responded Bess. 

"I care very much about what people say of my father, " Nan said. "And theminute I get home I'm going to find out what that Bulson meant. "

CHAPTER III

AN ADVENTURE ON THE RAIL

That adventurous afternoon on Pendragon Hill was the last chance thegirls of Lakeview Hall had that term for bobsledding. School closed thenext day and those pupils who lived farthest away, and who went home forthe holidays, started that very evening by train from Freeling. 

Nan and her chum, Bess Harley, were two who hurried away from the Hall. Tillbury was a night's ride from Lakeview Hall, and the chums did notwish to lose any of their short stay at home. 

It had already been planned and agreed to that Nan and Bess were to go toChicago to visit in the Masons' home during a part of this vacation, andthe two friends, who knew very little of city life, were eager indeed forthe new experience. 

Walter and Grace had started for Chicago that morning, and when the twoTillbury girls saw how hard it was snowing when Charley, with his 'bus onrunners, drove them to the station, they wished that they had asked theprivilege of Dr. Beulah Prescott, the principal, of going early, too. 

"This yere's goin' to be a humdinger of a storm, " prophesied Charley. "You gals'll maybe get snowed up on the train. "

"Oh! What fun!" cried the thoughtless Bess. 

"I hope not!" proclaimed Nan. 

"I think it would be fun, Nan, " urged her chum. 

"Humph! How about eating?" queried the red-haired girl, Laura Polk, whowould be one of the party as far as the Junction. 

"Oh, there's a dining-car on this train, " said May Winslow, who was tospeed away to the South to spend Christmas, where there was no ice orsnow, and where the darkeys celebrate the holiday with fire-crackers, asNorthern people do the Fourth of July. 

"That's all right about the dining-car, " said Nan. "All right for yougirls who are going to Chicago. But our train from the Junction has no'eats' attached and if we get snowed up--"

"Ugh!" cried her chum. "Don't suggest such a horrid possibility. I'mgoing right now to buy out the lunch counter and take it along with us. "

"And break your teeth on adamantine sandwiches, harder than ProfessorKrenner's problems in algebra?" suggested May. 

The red-haired girl began to laugh. "I thought Bess never would carry ashoe-box lunch again. 'Member that one you two girls from Tillburybrought to school with you, last September?"

"Will we ever forget it?" groaned Nan. 

"I don't care!" exclaimed Bess. "You can't have a bite of what I buy, Laura Polk!" and she marched away to the lunch counter and spent most ofher remaining pocket money on greasy pies, decrepit sandwiches, soggy"pound-cake" and crullers that might have been used with success ascar-seat springs!

The train was late in arriving at Freeling. It rumbled into thestation covered with snow, its pilot showing how it had ploughedthrough the drifts. The girls were separated at once, for Nan's seatand her chum's were in one car, while the girls bound Chicago-ward hada section in another. 

Nan and Bess would be in their berths and asleep when their car should beswitched to the southern line to be picked up by the other train at theJunction. So they bade their friends good-bye at once and, after a falsestart or two, the heavy train blundered into the night and the storm, andFreeling was left behind. 

The train did not move rapidly. A few miles out of Freeling it becamestalled for a while. But a huge snow-plow came to the rescue at thispoint and piloted the train clear into the Junction. 

The sleeping-car porter wanted to make up the girls' berths at the usualhour--nine o'clock. But Nan begged hard for more time and Bess treatedhim to a generous lunch from the supply she had bought at Freeling. Afterwards she admitted she was sorry she was so reckless with thecommissary. 

Just now, however, neither Bess nor Nan worried about supplies for whatLaura Polk called "the inner girl. " Through the window they saw thedrifts piling up along the right of way, wherever the lamps revealedthem; country stations darkened and almost buried under the white mantle;and the steadily driving snow itself that slanted earthward--a curtainthat shut out of sight all objects a few yards beyond the car windows. 

"My! this is dreadful, " murmured Bess, when the train halted again forthe drifts to be shoveled out of a cot. "When do you s'pose we'll everget home?"

"Not at eight o'clock in the morning, " Nan announced promptly. "That'ssure. I don't know just how many miles it is--and I never could tellanything about one of these railroad time-tables. "

"Laura says she can read a menu card in a French restaurant more easily, "chuckled Bess. "I wonder how their train is getting on?"

"I'm so selfishly worried about our own train that I'm not thinking ofthem, " admitted Nan. "There! we've started again. "

But the train puffed on for only a short distance and then "snubbed" itsnose into another snow-bank. The wheels of the locomotive clogged, theflues filled with snow, the wet fuel all but extinguished the fire. Before the engineer could back the heavy train, the snow swirled inbehind it and built a drift over the platform of the rear coach. Thetrain was completely stalled. 

This happened after eleven o'clock and while they were between stations. It was a lonely and rugged country, and even farm-houses were far apart. The train was about midway between stations, the distance from one to theother being some twenty miles. The weight of the snow had already brokendown long stretches of telegraph and telephone wires. No aid for thesnow-bound train and passengers could be obtained. 

Before this, however, the porter had insisted upon making up the girls'berths and, like most of the other passengers in the Pullman, Nan andBess were asleep. While the passengers slept the snow continued to siftdown, building the drifts higher and higher, and causing the train-crewincreasing worriment of mind. 

The locomotive could no longer pierce the drifts. The train had been tooheavy for her from the first. Fuel supply had been renewed at theJunction, as well as water; but the coal was now needed to keep up steamfor the cars--and it would not last long for that purpose. 

If the storm continued until morning without change, it might be severaldays before the road could be opened from either end of the division. Food and fuel would be very hard to obtain in this waste of snow, and sofar from human habitation. 

The two conductors and the engineer spent most of the night discussingways and means. Meanwhile the snow continued to fall and the passengers, for the most part, rested in ignorance of the peril that threatened. 

CHAPTER IV

CAST AWAY IN THE SNOW

It was Bess who came back from the ladies' room on the Pullman andstartled Nan Sherwood by shaking her by the shoulder as she lay in theupper berth, demanding:

"Have you any idea what time it is, Nan? Say! have you?"

"No-o--ouch!" yawned her chum. "Goodness! That was my elbow. There's notmuch room on these shelves, is there?"

"Do you hear me?" shrilled Bess. "What time do you suppose it is?"

"Oh, dear me! Is that a conundrum?" asked Nan, with but faint interest. 

"Wake up!" and Bess pinched her. "I never knew you so stupid before. Seemy watch, Nan, " and she held the small gold time-piece she had ownedsince her last birthday, so that her chum could see its face. 

"A quarter to eight, " read Nan from the dial. "Well! that's not so late. I know we're allowed to remain in the car till eight. I'll hurry. But, oh! isn't it dark outside?"

"Now, you're showing a little common sense, " snapped Bess. "But do yousee that my watch has stopped?"

"Oh! so it has, " agreed Nan. "But, then, honey, you're always letting itrun down. "

"I know, " said Bess, impatiently. "And at first I thought it must havestopped last evening at a quarter to eight. When I woke up just now itwas just as dark as it was yesterday morning at six. But I took a peep atthe porter's clock and what do you think?"

"I'll shave you for nothing and give you a drink, " laughed Nan, quotingthe old catch-line. 

Bess was too excited to notice her chum's fun. She said, dramatically:

"The porter's clock says half-past nine and half the berths are put upagain at the other end of the car!"

"Mercy!" gasped Nan, and swung her feet over the edge of the berth. "Oh!"she squealed the next moment. 

"What's the matter now?" demanded her chum. 

"Oh! I feel like a poor soldier who's having his legs cut off. My! isn'tthe edge of this berth sharp?"

"But what do you know about its being half-past nine?" demanded Bess. 

"And the train is standing still, " said Nan. "Do you suppose we can be atTillbury?"

"Goodness! we ought to be, " said Bess. "But it is so dark. "

"And Papa Sherwood would be down in the yards looking for me before thistime, I know. "

"Well! what do you think it means?" demanded her chum. "And b-r-r-r! it'scold. There isn't half enough steam on in this car. "

Nan was scrambling into her outer garments. "I'll see about this in aminute, Bess, " she said, chuckling. "Maybe the sun's forgotten to rise. "

Bess had managed to draw aside the curtain of the big window. She uttereda muffled scream. 

"Oh, Nan! It's sno-ow!"

"What? Still snowing?" asked her chum. 

"No. It's all banked up against the pane. I can't see out at all. "

"Goodness--gracious--me!" ejaculated Nan. "Do you suppose we'resnowed in?"

That was just exactly what it meant. The porter, his eyes rolling, toldthem all about it. The train had stood just here, "in the middle of asnow-bank, " since midnight. It was still snowing. And the train wascovered in completely with the soft and clinging mantle. 

At first the two chums bound for Tillbury were only excited and pleasedby the novel situation. The porter arranged their seats for them and Bessproudly produced the box of lunch she had bought at Freeling, and ofwhich they had eaten very little. 

"Tell me how smart I am, Nan Sherwood!" she cried. "Wish we had a cup ofcoffee apiece. "

At that very moment the porter and conductor entered the car with asteaming can of the very comforting fluid Bess had just mentioned. Theporter distributed waxed paper cups from the water cooler for eachpassenger's use and the conductor judiciously poured the cups half fullof coffee. 

"You two girls are very lucky, " he said, when he saw what was in thelunch-box. "Take care of your food supply. No knowing when we'll get outof this drift. "

"Why, mercy!" ejaculated Bess. "I don't know that I care to live for longon stale sandwiches and pie, washed down by the most miserable coffee Iever tasted. "

"Well, I suppose it's better to live on this sort of food than to die onno food at all, " Nan said, laughing. 

It seemed to be all a joke at first. There were only a few people in thePullman, and everybody was cheerful and inclined to take the matterpleasantly. Being snow-bound in a train was such a novel experience thatno unhappy phase of the situation deeply impressed any of thepassengers' minds. 

Breakfast was meagre, it was true. The "candy butcher, " who sold popcornand sandwiches as well, was bought out at an exorbitant price by twotraveling men, who distributed what they had secured with liberal hand. Bess, more cautious than usual, hid the remains of her lunch and told Nanthat it was "buried treasure. "

"Castaways ought to find treasure buried on their island to make itreally interesting, " she told her chum. "Think of poor Robinson Crusoeand his man Friday. Wouldn't they have been just tickled to death to havefound anything like this for their Sunday dinner, say?"

"I don't believe Friday would have cared much about railroad lunch applepies, " said Nan. "One's palate has to become accustomed to suchdelicacies. "

"Now, don't be critical, Nan Sherwood, or I sha'n't give you any morepie, " 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 apartmentbefore next winter if they can't heat this one any better. "

They whiled away the morning in conversation and reading. They had tosit with their furs on. Nan looked like a little Esquimaux in hers, forher Uncle Henry Sherwood had bought them for her to wear in the BigWoods the winter before. Finally Bess declared she was too fidgety tosit still any longer. 

"I've just got to do something. Here's the conductor again. Let's stirhim up about the heat. "

"I wouldn't, " said more thoughtful Nan. "He looks as though he had hisown 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 befrozen to icicles!"

"Not yet, I hope, " said Nan, getting up briskly. "Let's see if we can'tstick 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 werelocked and the snow was piled against the little windows, high up in thedoor 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 usout?"

"I wonder if it has stopped snowing?"

"I hope so!"

"We can't hear anything down here, " continued Nan. "But we naturallycouldn't, if the train is buried in the snow. "

"Dear me, Nan!" said her chum, in a really worried tone. "What do yous'pose will happen to us?"

"We--ell--"

"And our folks! They'll be awfully worried. Why! we should have been atTillbury by eight o'clock, and here it is noon!"

"That is so, " Nan said, with more assurance. "But of course they knowwhat 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 guesswe shall get along all right. "

"Oh! you know what I mean, " her chum said. "I wonder where that doorleads 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 alantern swinging from the roof. Nobody was in the car and the girlswalked 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 inthat trunk, and to tell the truth she wished she had that preciouspossession 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--awhimpering cry that might have been a baby's. 

"The poor thing!" cried Nan, darting toward the sound. "They haveforgotten 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 chumwonderingly. 

At that Nan uttered a laugh that was half a sob. "Silly! reach downthat lantern, please. Stand on the box. I'll show you what sort of ababy it is. "

Bess obeyed her injunction and brought the light. Nan was kneeling inthe corner before a small crate of slats in which was a beautiful, brown-eyed, silky haired water spaniel--nothing but a puppy--that waslicking her hands through his prison bars and wriggling his littlebody as best he could in the narrow quarters to show his affectionand delight. 

"Well, I never!" cried Bess, falling on her knees before the dog'scarrier, and likewise worshipping. "Isn't he the cunning, tootsie-wootsiesing? 'E 'ittle dear! Oh, Nan! isn't he a love? How soft his tiny tongueis, " 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'slet 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'shungry, 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 thinkanybody'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 carat 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, " Besscontinued. "The men have tunneled through the drift from one car to theother. I wonder how thick the roof is, Nan? Suppose it falls on us!"

"Not likely, " responded her chum, and she stepped confidently out uponthe platform. The door of the forward car stuck and after a momentsomebody came and slid it back a crack. 

"Hullo, young ladies!" exclaimed the brakeman, who looked out. "What doyou 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 seeyou. I bet they've got something to eat in their trunks and want toopen them. "

There was a laugh in chorus from the crew in the forward baggage andexpress 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 theman. "And I believe he's hungry. "

"I reckon you're right, Miss, " said the baggage-man. "I gave himpart of my coffee this morning; but I reckon that's not verysatisfying to a dog. "

"He should have some milk, " Nan announced decidedly. 

"Ya--as?" drawled the baggage-man. He had come into the car with thegirls 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 quitecommonly in the jungles of Brazil. You score the bark and the woodimmediately beneath it with an axe, or machette, insert a sliver of cleanwood, and the milky sap trickles forth into your cup--"

"How ridiculous!" interposed Nan, while the baggage-man burst intoappreciative laughter. 

"Well, " said Bess, "when folks are cast away like us, don't theyalways find the most wonderful things all about them--right to theirhands, 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 andsee if there wasn't a case of canned milk going somewhere--"

"Great! Hurrah for our Nan!" broke in Bess Harley, in admiration. "Who'dever have thought of that?"

"But we couldn't do that, Miss, " said the baggage-man, scratching hishead. "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, uponwhose 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 begood to him. "

"Well, Miss, that altogether depends upon the conductor, you know. It'sagainst the rules for a dog to be taken into a passenger coach. "

"I do think, " cried Bess, "that this is the very meanest railroadthat ever was. I am sure that Linda Riggs' father owns it. To keep apoor, dear, little dog like that, freezing and starving, in an oldbaggage car. "

"Do you know President Riggs, Miss?" interrupted the baggage-man. 

"Why--" began Bess, but her chum interposed before she could go further. 

"We know Mr. Riggs' daughter very well. She goes to school where we do, at Lakeview Hall. She was on this train till it was split at theJunction, last evening. "

"Well, indeed, Miss, you tell that to Mr. Carter. If you are friends ofMr. Riggs' daughter, maybe he'll stretch a point and let you take thedog into the Pullman. I don't suppose anybody will object at a timelike this. "

"How could you, Nan?" demanded Bess, in a whisper. "Playing up LindaRiggs' name for a favor?"

"Not for ourselves, no, indeed!" returned Nan, in the same low tone. "Butfor the poor doggy, yes. "

"Say! I wonder what she'd say if she knew?"

"Something mean, of course, " replied Nan, calmly. "But we'll save thatpoor dog if we can. Come on and find this Conductor Carter. "

They left the puppy yelping after them as they returned to thePullman. The cars felt colder now and the girls heard many complaintsas they walked through to the rear. The conductor, the porter said, had gone back into the smoking car. That car was between the Pullmanand the day coaches. 

When Nan rather timidly opened the door of the smoking car a burst ofsound rushed out, almost startling in its volume--piercing cries ofchildren, shrill tones of women's voices, the guttural scolding of men, the expostulations of the conductor himself, who had a group ofcomplainants about him, and the thunderous snoring of a fat man in thenearest seat, who slept with his feet cocked up on another seat and ahandkerchief over his face. 

"Goodness!" gasped Bess, pulling back. "Let's not go in. It's abear garden. "

"Why, I don't understand it, " murmured Nan. "Women and children in thesmoker? Whoever heard the like?"

"They've turned off the heat in the other two cars and made us all comein here, lady, " explained a little dark-haired and dark-eyed woman whosat in a seat near the door. "They tell us there is not much coal, andthey cannot heat so many cars. "

She spoke without complaint, in the tone of resignation so common amongthe peasantry of Europe, but heard in North America from but twopeople--the French Canadian and the peon of Mexico. Nan had seen so manyof the former people in the Big Woods of Upper Michigan the summerbefore, that she was sure this poor woman was a "Canuck. " Upon her laplay a delicate, whimpering, little boy of about two years. 

"What is the matter with the poor little fellow, madam?" asked Nan, compassionately. 

"With my little Pierre, mademoiselle?" returned the woman. 

"Yes, " said Nan. 

"He cries for food, mademoiselle, " said the woman simply. "He has eatennothing since we left the Grand Gap yesterday at three o'clock; exceptthat the good conductor gave us a drink of coffee this morning. And hismother has nothing to give her poor Pierre to eat. It is sad, is it not?"

CHAPTER VI

A SERIOUS PROBLEM

The chums from Tillbury looked at each other in awed amazement. Nothingjust like this had ever come to their knowledge before. The healthydesire of a vigorous appetite for food was one thing; but this child'swhimpering need and its mother's patient endurance of her own lack offood for nearly twenty-four hours, shook the two girls greatly. 

"Why, the poor little fellow!" gasped Nan, and sank to her knees to placeher cheek against the pale one of the little French boy. 

"They--they're starving!" choked Bess Harley. 

The woman seemed astonished by the emotion displayed by these twoschoolgirls. She looked from Nan to Bess in rather a frightened way. 

"Monsieur, the conductor, say it cannot ver' well be help', " shemurmured. "It is the snow; it haf overtaken us. "

"It just _can_ be helped!" cried Bess, suddenly, and she whirled andfairly ran forward into the chair car. Nan did not notice her chum'sdeparture at the moment. The baby had seized her finger and was smilingat her. Such a pretty little fellow, but so weak and ill in appearance. 

"Oh, madame!" Nan cried in her best French, "is it not terrible? We maybe here for hours. "

"As the good God wills, " said the woman, patiently. "We cannot devise orshape Fate, mademoiselle. "

Nan stood up and shook her head, saying vigorously, and in her owntongue, for she was too much moved to remember Mademoiselle Loro'steaching:

"But we need not accept Fate's determination as final, I am sure! Thereis a good God, as you say, madam. This child must have food, and--"

At the moment Bess rushed in carrying the paste-board box containing theremains of their lunch. "Here!" she cried, dramatically. "Give the poorlittle fellow this. "

"Oh, little ladies!" responded the woman, "have a care. You will haveneed of this food yourselves. "

"No, no!" cried Bess, the impetuous. "We are stuffed to repletion. Aren't we, Nan?"

"We have certainly eaten much more recently than madam and the littleone, " agreed Nan, heartily. 

The woman opened the box. The child sat up with a crow of delight. Themother gave him one of the stale crullers, and he began gnawing on itwith all the gusto of a hungry dog on a bone. 

"Take something yourself, madam, " commanded Nan. "And more for thelittle fellow. "

"Let 'em have it all, Nan, " whispered the impulsive Bess. "Goodness! wecan get on somehow. "

But Nan was more observant than her chum. There were other children inthe car besides this little fellow. In fact, in the seat but one behindthe French woman and her baby, a girl of six or seven years wasclinging to the seat-back and staring with hungry eyes at the brokenfood in the box. 

"Gracious!" gasped Bess, seeing this little one when Nan had nudged herand pointed. "Gracious! that's the picture of Famine, herself. "

She seized one of the greasy little pies and thrust it into the child'shands. The latter began devouring it eagerly. Bess saw other hungrymouths open and eager hands outstretched. 

"Oh, Nan!" she almost sobbed. "We've got to give them all some. All thepoor little children!"

Her chum did not try to curb Bess Harley's generosity. There was not muchof the food left, so there was no danger of over-feeding any of the smallchildren who shared in the generosity of the chums. But when the lastcrumb was gone they found the conductor at their elbows. 

"Well, girls!" he exclaimed grimly. "Now you've done it, haven't you?"

"Done what, sir?" asked Bess, rather startled. 

"You've given away all your own lunch. What did I tell you? I warned youto take care of it. "

"Oh, sir!" cried Nan. "We couldn't have eaten it, knowing that theselittle folks were so hungry. "

"No, indeed!" agreed Bess. 

"If you had remained in your own car, " the conductor said, "you wouldhave known nothing about these poor kiddies. "

"Well, I'm glad we did find out about 'em before we ate our lunch allup, " declared Nan. 

"Why, I'd like to know, Miss?" asked the man. 

"It would have lain heavily on our consciences--"

"And surely injured our digestions, " giggled Bess. "That pie wassomething awful. "

"Well, it's all gone now, and you have nothing. "

"Oh, that's not the worst, " cried Bess, suddenly. "Oh, Nan!" and sheclasped her gloved hands tragically. 

"What is it now?" asked her chum. 

"The poor little dog! He won't have even railroad pie to eat. "

"What dog is this?" demanded the conductor. 

"Oh!" cried Nan. "Are you Mr. Carter?"

"Yes, I am, Miss. But this dog?"

"Is in the baggage car, " Nan said eagerly. "And he's so cold and hungryand lonesome. He's just crying his heart out. "

"He is?"

"Won't you let us take him into our car where it is warmer and takecare of him?"

"That nuisance of a pup?" demanded the conductor, yet with twinkling eyesthat belied his gruffness. "I know he's yapping his little head off. "

"Then let us have him, sir, do!" begged Nan earnestly. 

"Take him into the Pullman, you mean?"

"Yes, sir, we'll take the best care of him, " promised Nan. 

"Against the rules!" declared the conductor, briskly. 

"But rules ought to be broken at times, " urged Nan. "For instance, can'tthey be relaxed when folks are cast away on desert islands?"

"Oh, ho!" chuckled the conductor. "I see the point, Miss. But the captainof the ship must maintain discipline, just the same, on the desert islandas aboard ship. "

"I s'pose you've got to enforce the rule against passengers riding on theplatform, too, even if we are stuck in a snowdrift?" Bess said a littlecrossly. They had come out into the vestibule, and she was cold. 

The conductor broke into open laughter at this; but Nan was serious. 

"Suppose anything happens to the poor little fellow?" she fumed. "He mayget cold. And he certainly will starve. "

"Have you anything more in the line of food to give away?" demanded theconductor. 

"Not a crumb, " sighed Bess. "By the time the cannibals arrive at thisdesert island we'll all be too thin to tempt them to a banquet. "

"But there may be something on the train with which to feed that poordoggie, " insisted Nan. 

"If you mean in the crew's kettles, " said the conductor, "I can assureyou, young lady, there is nothing. This crew usually eats at the end ofthe division. It's not like a freight train crew. We'd be a whole lotbetter off right now, " added the conductor, reflectively, "if we had acaboose attached to the end of this train. We'd stand a chance ofrustling up some grub for all these hungry people. "

"Oh, dear!" gasped Bess. "Do you s'pose we're going to be hungry long?"

"They say one doesn't notice it much after about eight days, " her chumsaid, chuckling. 

"Ugh!" shivered Bess, "I don't much care for your kind of humor, NanSherwood. "

The conductor suddenly glanced at Nan more keenly and asked, "Are youNancy Sherwood, Miss?"

"Why, yes, sir. "

"And you go to school somewhere upon the shore of Lake Huron?" hepursued. 

"Why, yes, sir. "

"We go to Lakeview Hall. And we know Linda Riggs, " blurted out Bess, remembering what the baggage-man had advised them to say to theconductor. 

"Oh, indeed?" said Mr. Carter; but his interest remained fixed onNan. "You didn't go to school last September over this division, didyou?" he asked. 

"No, sir. We went from Chicago, " replied the wondering Nan. 

"Your train was broke in two at the Junction to put in a car?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And what did you do at the Junction?" asked the conductor, quickly. 

"Oh, I know!" cried Bess, as her chum hesitated. "She got off the trainand killed a big rattlesnake that was just going to bite a littlegirl--yes, you did, Nan Sherwood!"

"You're the girl, Miss!" declared Mr. Carter, drawing out his notebookand pencil. "There have been some inquiries made for you. "

"Mercy!" ejaculated Nan. "I don't want to hear anything more about thatold snake. "

The conductor laughed. "I fancy you won't hear anything unpleasant aboutthe snake, " he said. "Where do you live, Nancy Sherwood?"

"I live at Tillbury, " Nan said. "But I sha'n't be home much thisvacation. "

"Where will you be, then, about the first of the year?"

"I'll tell you, " Bess cried briskly, and she gave Mr. Carter Mr. Mason'saddress in Chicago. 

The conductor wrote it down carefully in his notebook. Nan wasimpatient. 

"Can't you find something among the express packages to help us out, sir?" she asked. "Canned goods. For instance, a case of canned milk?"

"We'll see, Miss, " said the conductor, starting forward again. "At anyrate, I'll let you two girls have the dog. "

CHAPTER VII

THE FAT MAN INTERPOSES

The people in the Pullman car, who were much more comfortably situatedthan those in the smoking car, or than the crew of the train hived up inthe first baggage coach, were beginning to complain a good deal now. Thecolored porter, with rolling eyes and appealing gestures, met theconductor and the two girls. 

"Ah kyan't stan' this no longer, Mistah Ca'tah, " he almost sobbed. "Da'ssumpin' got t' be did fo' all dese starbin white ladies an' gemmen--ya-assah! Dey is jes' about drivin' me mad. I kyan't stan' it. "

"What can't you stand, Nicodemus?" demanded Mr. Carter, good-naturedly. 

"Dey is a-groanin' an' a-takin' on powerful bad 'cause dey ain't nodining kyar cotched up wid us yet. "

"Dining car caught up with us?" gasped Nan and Bess together. 

"What sort of a yarn have you been giving these passengers, Nick?"demanded the conductor. 

"Well, Ah jes' done got t' tell 'em sumpin' t' pacify 'em, " whispered thedarkey. "No use lettin' 'em think dey gwyne t' starb t' death. Ah tell'em yo' done sent back t' de Junction for a car-load ob eats an' dat it'sexpected t' arrive any hour. Ya-as, sah!"

"Why, you atrocious falsifier!" ejaculated Mr. Carter. 

"Wot! me?" exclaimed the porter. "No, sah! Ah ain't nottin' like dat--no, sah! Ah reckon Ah done save dat little man's life. Yo' know, dat littledrummer wot's trabelin' wid de big man. Dey was castin' lots t' see whichone should be kilt fo' to be et by de odder--"

"Oh, mercy!" screamed Bess, and stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth. 

"Ya-as, indeedy, Miss! Dey was gettin' mighty desprit. An de big feller, he says, 'Hit don't much matter which way de dice falls, I'm de bigges'an' I certainly kin holt ma own wid a little runt like you!' He says jes'lak' dat to his friend, de littles' feller. "

Nan and Bess both hid their faces behind Mr. Carter's broad back. 

"Ah got nerbous, " pursued the darkey. "Dat big man looked lak' he wasjes' going t' start right in on his fren'. An' de luck turns his way, anyhow, and de lil' feller loses. 'I gibs yo' 'twill six-thirtyto-night, ' de big man says. 'Dat's ma reg'lar dinner hour, an' I'mmoughty savage ef I go much over ma dinner time. '

"Golly, boss!" added the porter, "Ah jes' 'bleeged tun say sumpin', an Ahtells 'em de dinin' kyar'll sho'ly obertake us fo' six-thirty. Ya'as, indeedy. An' den, dar's dat lady up dar wid de sour-vinegary sort o'face. Ah jes' heard her say she'd be fo'ced tuh eat her back-comb if shedidn't have her lunch pu'ty soon. A' yo' knows, Mistah Ca'tah, no lady'sindigestion is a-gwine tuh stan' up under no sech fodder as dat. "

"You old silly!" ejaculated the conductor. "These people have beenfooling you. I'll separate those two drummers so that they won't eat eachother--or concoct any more stories with which to worry you, Nick. Comeon, young ladies. We'll see about that dog. "

"And look through the express matter--do!" begged Nan. 

"Surely will, " replied the conductor. "But I expect we'll have to tie andmuzzle the express messenger. "

Bess thought this funny, too, and she giggled again. In fact, Nandeclared her chum had a bad case of the "giggles" and begged her tobehave herself. 

"I don't believe that castaways set out to explore their island for foodin any such light-minded manner as you display, Elizabeth, " Nan observed. 

"Oh, dear! I can't help it, " Bess gasped. "That darkey is so funny. He'sjust as innocent as--as--"

"The man, Friday, " finished Nan. 

"Goody! that's who he is, " agreed Bess. "He's Friday. Oh! if Laura Polkwere only here, wouldn't she have lots of fun with him?"

"Seems as though those two drummers were bothering poor Fridayquite enough. "

They heard the little spaniel yelping the moment they opened thebaggage car door. 

"The poor 'ittle sing!" cooed Bess, running to the corner where the puppywas imprisoned. "Oh! how cold it is in here. It would be a little icicle, so it would be, in a little while. "

"Let's see where he's going, and whom he belongs to, " Mr. Carter said. "I'll have to make a note of this, and so will Jim, the baggage-man. Youwant to take good care of this little tyke, for the railroad isresponsible for him while he is in transit. "

He stooped down and brought his light to bear upon the tag wired to thetop of the crate. "Ravell Bulson, Jr. , Owneyville, Illinois, " he readaloud, making a note of it in his book. 

"Oh!" ejaculated Nan. 

"Oh!" repeated Bess. 

Then both together the chums gasped: "That fat man!"

"Hullo!" observed the conductor, slipping the toggles out of the hasp, which kept the door of the dog crate closed. "Do you girls know the ownerof this pup? You seem to know everybody. "

"We know a Mr. Ravell Bulson by sight, Mr. Carter, " Nan said quietly. 

"And he's just the meanest man!" began impulsive Bess; but her chumstopped her with a glance. 

"Well! Mr. Ravell Bulson, Jr. , has a fine pup here, " declared theconductor, releasing the agitated little creature. 

The spaniel could not show his delight sufficiently when he was out ofthe crate. He capered about them, licking the girl's shoes, tumblingdown in his haste and weakness, and uttering his funny little bark inexcited staccato. 

Bess finally grabbed him up and, after kissing her, suddenly, right underthe ear, and making her squeal, he snuggled down in her arms, his littlepink tongue hanging out and his eyes shining (so Bess declared) like "twobrown stars. "

"'Brown stars' is good, " chuckled Nan. "You'll be talking about a cerisesky next, with a pea-green sun. "

"Such a carping critic!" returned Bess. "But what care I? His eyes arebrown stars, so now! And if you're not very good, Nan Sherwood, I'll makehim bite you. "

Mr. Carter was leading the way to the forward car, and the girls followedwith the spaniel. It seemed a little lighter under the tunneled snow-bankbetween the two cars, and the conductor said, with some satisfaction:

"I believe it has stopped snowing and will clear up. I do surely hopethat is the weather programme. We want to get out of here. "

"And walk to Tillbury?" cried Nan. 

"It would be one good, long walk, " responded the conductor, grimly. "Hi, Jim!" he added to the baggage-man, whose face appeared through thetobacco smoke that filled the forward baggage car. "Jim, these youngladies are going to take care of the pup. Belongs to Ravell Bulson, Jr. , Owneyville, Illinois. Make a note of it. "

"Sure!" Jim said. 

"Say! that's a funny thing, " put in another man, who wore the letteredcap of the express company. "I've been looking over my way-bill, Carter, and a man named Ravell Bulson of that same address has shipped a packageto himself from the Bancroft Creamery siding, up above Freeling. Packagemarked 'Glass--handle with care. '"

"Bully!" exclaimed the conductor. "That's condensed milk in glass jars, I bet. A number-one product. I've seen it. Anything else eatable onyour list?"

"Not a thing, Carter. "

"How far will twenty-four cans of condensed milk go among this gang ofstarving people?" growled a man in overalls and a greasy cap, whom thegirls knew must be the engineer. 

"You keep the fire up, Horace, so's we can melt snow, " said theconductor, "and we can dilute the milk all right. It's good stuff. "

"Fire!" exclaimed the engineer. "How do you expect my fireman to keep upa blaze under that boiler on the shag-end of nothing? I tell you thefire's going out in less than an hour. She ain't making a pound of steamright now. "

"Great Peter, Horace!" ejaculated Mr. Carter, "don't say that. We have_got_ to have fire!"

"Well, you show me how to keep one going, " said the engineer. "Unless youknow some way of burning snow, I don't see how you're going to do it. "

"Take it from me, we must find a way to keep steam up in these cars, "said Mr. Carter. "We've shut off the last two cars. The smoker's packedwith passengers as tight as a can of sardines. "

"Oh! I wish he wouldn't talk about things eatable, " groaned Bess, inNan's ear. 

"Better put the women and the children in the Pullman, " suggested thebaggage-man. 

"Can't. Their tickets don't call for first-class accommodations, " saidthe conductor, stubbornly, "and none of them wants to pay the differencein tariff. "

"You've got your hands full, Carter, " said the express messenger. "How about the case of milk?" and he dragged a box into the middle ofthe floor. 

"Say! you fellows let that case alone, " exclaimed an unpleasant voice. "That's mine. You the conductor? I have been hunting all over for you. "

Nan and Bess had both turned, startled, when this speech began. It camefrom the fat man whom they had seen asleep in the smoking car. And, nowthat his face was revealed, the chums recognized Mr. Ravell Bulson, theman who had spoken so harshly of Nan's father the day of the collision onPendragon Hill. 

"Say! this is the expressman, I guess, " pursued Mr. Bulson. "You're theman I really want to see. You'll see my name on that box--'R. Bulson, Owneyville, Illinois. ' That's me. And I want to open that box and getsomething out of it. "

CHAPTER VIII

SI SNUBBINS DROPS IN

"Do let's get out of here before he sees us, " whispered Nan to her chum. 

"No, I won't, " returned Bess, in the same tone. "I want to hear how itcomes out. "

"Of course that horrid man won't let them use the milk for the poorlittle children on the train. And, goodness, Bess! you've got his dogright in your arms this moment. "

"Well, " said the stubborn Bess, "if that fat man takes a jar of condensedmilk out of that box for himself, I'll make him give this poor littlepuppy some of it. Now you see if I don't!"

At first it did not look as though the fat man was going to get any ofthe milk even for his own consumption. The expressman said gruffly: "Ican't let you open the package. It's against the rules of the company. "

"Say! I shipped this package to myself. Here's the receipt, " blusteredMr. Bulson. "I guess I can withdraw it from your care if I like. "

"Guess again, mister, " returned the expressman. "You've got threeguesses, anyway. "

The fat man was so assertive and over-bearing that it amused the chumsfrom Tillbury to hear him thus flouted. 

"I guess you don't know who I am?" cried the choleric fat man. 

"You say your name is Bullhead--"

"Bulson!" roared the other. "Ravell Bulson. I own that milk. "

"So it is condensed milk in that box, Mr. Bulson?" here interposed Mr. Carter, the conductor. 

"Yes, it is, " said Bulson, shortly. "I had business up near the BancroftCreamery, and I stepped in there and bought a case of milk in glass, andshipped it home. I saw it being put aboard the express car of the othertrain and I had an idea it would be transferred at the Junction to thistrain. And here it is, and I want it. "

"You're a public spirited citizen, Mr. Bulson, " the conductor saidsuavely. "I expect you want to get this milk to divide among your fellowpassengers? Especially among the children on the train?"

"What's that?" exclaimed Bulson, his eyes fairly bulging out withsurprise. 

"You are going to open the case of canned milk for the benefit of allhands?" said Mr. Carter, sternly. 

"Wha--what do you take me for?" blurted out the fat man, indignantly. "Why, that's my milk! I'm not going to give it to anybody. What do youtake me for?" he repeated. 

The disgust and indignation with which Mr. Carter eyed him must haveplainly shown a less thick-skinned mortal just what the conductor'sopinion was. But Mr. Ravell Bulson, like most utterly selfish men, saw nothing. 

"You must think I'm silly, " pursued Bulson. "I shall want but a can ortwo for myself. Of course they'll come and plow us out before long. And Ipromised my wife to send that milk home. "

"Wouldn't you even give any of that milk to this poor little puppy?"suddenly demanded Bess, whose anger at the fat man had been graduallyrising until now, before Nan could stop her, it boiled over. 

"Heh? Who are _you_, Miss, if I may inquire?" snapped the fat man. 

"It doesn't matter who I am, " proclaimed Bess. "I wouldn't take a drop ofthat milk from you, anyway. But this poor little puppy is starving. "

"Why, I declare!" interrupted Bulson. "That's the little dog I shippedto Junior. "

"It's your own dog, Mr. Bulson, " Bess declared. "And he's almoststarved. "

"And what are _you_ doing with him?" demanded the fat man, rage suddenlynarrowing his eyes again. "What kind of actions are these?" and he swungon the members of the train crew once more. "My dog is given to any Tom, Dick, and Harry that comes along, while I can't get at my own case ofmilk. Preposterous!"

The express messenger had received a signal from Mr. Carter, and nowsaid:

"I tell you what it is, Mr. Bulson; I can't help you out. The matter isentirely out of my hands. Just before you came in the conductor levied onall my goods in transit and claimed the right to seize your case of milkfor the benefit of the passengers. You'll have to send in your claim toour company, and it will get the value of the milk from the railroadpeople for you. That's all there is to it. "

"What?" roared Mr. Bulson, aghast at these words. 

"You heard me, " responded the expressman, handing Mr. Carter a hammer andnail puller. 

The conductor kneeled down and proceeded to open the box. The fatman would have torn his hair only he was bald and there was none hecould spare. 

"Get away from that box! get away!" he commanded, fairly dancing aboutthe car. "Do you know what I'll do? I'll sue the company. "

"All right. Begin suit at once, " growled Mr. Carter. "Get out aninjunction right away. Don't fret; you'll get your share of the milk withthe rest of us. "

"Why, it's _all_ mine, " croaked the fat man, hoarse with wrath. "I'llshow you--"

"Go 'way, " ordered a burly brakeman, pushing him aside, and stooping tohelp pull off the cover of the box. "You ought to be taken out and dumpedin the snow, mister. It would cool you off. "

"Come, Bess!" urged Nan, anxiously. "Let's go away. We'll get the milkfor the puppy afterward. I'm afraid there will be trouble. "

"I wish they would throw that mean old Bulson into the snow. He deservesit, " Bess returned bitterly. 

"Do let's go away, " Nan said again, as the men's voices became louder. 

"Oh, dear me! you never will let me have any fun, " declared Bess, hereyes sparkling. 

"Do you call a public brawl, fun?" demanded Nan, as they opened the doorof the car. 

At that moment, just as the two girls with the squirming, shiveringpuppy, were about to step out upon the platform between the baggage cars, they were startled by a muffled shout from overhead. 

"Oh! what's that?" gasped Bess. 

Both she and Nan looked up. Lumps of snow from the roof of the tunnelbegan to fall. Then came a louder shout and a pair of booted legs burstthrough the roof. 

"Goodness--gracious--me!" cried Nan. "Here comes--"

"An angelic visitor!" squealed Bess. 

With another shout of alarm, a snow-covered figure plunged to theplatform. The cowhide boots landed first, so the man remained upright. Hecarried a can in each hand, and all around the covers was frozen milk, betraying at once the nature of his load. 

He was a slim, wiry man, in a ragged greatcoat, a cap pulled over hisears, sparkling, little, light-blue eyes of phenomenal shrewdness, and asparse, strawcolor chin-whisker. 

"Wall, I vow to Maria!" gasped the newcomer. "What's this I'vedropped into?"

Bess was now laughing so that she could not speak, and the puppy wasbarking as hard as he could bark. Nan managed to ask:

"Who are you, sir, and where did you come from?"

"Si Snubbras is my name, " declared the "heavenly visitor. " "And I reckonI'm nearer home than you be, Miss, for I live right east of therailroad-cut, here. I was jest goin' across to Peleg Morton's haouse withthis yere milk, when I--I sorter dropped in, " and Farmer Snubbins wentoff into a fit of laughter at his own joke. 

CHAPTER IX

AN ANGEL WITH CHIN WHISKERS

Mr. Si Snubbins was a character, and he plainly was very much pleasedwith himself. His little, sharp eyes apprehended the situation quickly. 

"I vow to Maria!" repeated the farmer. "Ye air all snowed up here, ain'tye? A hull trainful o' folks. Wall!"

"And oh, Mr. Snubbins!" said Nan Sherwood, "you have milk in those cans, haven't you?"

"Sure have, Miss. "

"Oh, Mr. Carter!" called Nan, running back into the forward car; "here'sa man with _fresh_ milk. You don't have to take Mr. Bulson's. "

"What's that?" demanded the baggage-man, Jim, in surprise. "Where'd heget it? From that cow-tree your friend was telling us about?"

"What's this about fresh milk?" asked Mr. Carter. "Be still, Bulson. Youroar to fit your name. We can't hear the little lady. "

"Who's that?" snarled the excited Bulson, glaring at Nan. "How came thatgirl on this train? Isn't that the Sherwood girl?"

But nobody paid the fat man much attention just then. The crew crowdedafter Nan and Mr. Carter toward the open door of the car. 

"Hul-lo" exclaimed Mr. Carter, when he saw the farmer and realized how hehad "dropped in. " "That milk for sale?"

"Why, mister, " drawled Snubbins, "I'm under contrac' ter Peleg Morton terdeliver two cans of milk to him ev'ry day. I wasn't goin' to have himclaim I hadn't tried ter fulfil my part of the contrac', so I started'cross-lots with the cans. "

"How's he going to get the milk to the creamery?" demanded Mr. Carter, shrewdly. 

Si's eyes twinkled. "That's his part of the contrac'; 'tain't mine, " hesaid. "But if ye ax me, I tell ye honest, Mr. Conductor, I don't see howPeleg's goin' ter do it. This is a sight the heaviest snow we've had forten year. "

"What'll you sell that milk for?" interrupted the anxious conductor. "Fresh milk will be a whole lot better for these kiddies we've got in thesmoker than condensed milk. Just the same, " he added, "I shall hold on toBulson's shipment. "

"What'll I take for this milk, mister?" repeated Snubbins, cautiously. "Wall, I dunno. I'spect the price has gone up some, because o' the roadsbeing blocked. "

"That will do--that will do, " Mr. Carter hastened to say. "I'll takethe milk, give you a receipt, and you can fight it out with the claimagent. I believe, " added Mr. Carter, his lips twisting into a grimsmile, "that you are the farmer whose cow was killed by this very trainlast fall, eh?"

"Ya-as, " said Si Snubbins, sorrowfully. "Poor Sukey! She never knewwhat hit her. "

"But the claim agent knew what hit the road when you put in your claim. That old cow wasn't worth more than ten dollars and you demanded fifty. Don't raise the tariff on this milk proportionately, for I'm sure theagent will not allow the claim. "

Mr. Snubbins grinned and chuckled. 

"I'll run my risk--I'll run my risk, " he responded. "You kin have themilk for nawthin', if ye want it so bad. Bein' here all night, I expectye be purty sharp-set, the whole on ye. "

Mr. Carter had picked up the cans and had gone forward to have the milkthawed out at the boiler fire. Some of the brakemen had cleared away thesnow by now and there was an open passage to the outside world. The keenkind blew in, and the pale, wintry sunshine lighted the space between thebaggage cars. Mr. Snubbins grinned in his friendly way at the two girls. 

"I reckon you gals, " he said, "would just like to be over to my housewhere my woman could fry you a mess of flap-jacks. How's that?"

"Oh, don't mention it!" groaned Bess. 

"Is your house near?" asked Nan. 

"Peleg's the nighest. 'Tain't so fur. And when ye git out on top o' thesnow, the top's purty hard. It blew so toward the end of that blizzardthat the drifts air packed good. "

"Yet you broke through, " Bess said. 

"Right here, I did, for a fac'" chuckled the farmer. "But it's warm downhere and it made the snow soft. "

"Of course!" cried Nan Sherwood. "The stale air from the cars wouldnaturally make the roof of the tunnel soft. "

"My goodness! Can't you see the train at all from up there?" Bessdemanded. "Is it all covered up?"

"I reckon the ingin's out o' the snow. She's steamin' and of course she'dmelt the snow about her boiler and stack, " the farmer said. "But I didn'tlook that way. "

"Say!" demanded Bess, with some eagerness. "Is that Peleg's house near?"

"Peleg Morton? Why, 'tain't much farther than ye kin hear a pig'swhisper, " said Mr. Snubbins. "I'm goin' right there, myself. My womanwants ter know is Celia all right. She's some worrited, 'cause Celiawent over to visit Peleg's gal airly yesterday mornin' an' we ain't seenCelia since. "

Mr. Carter came back with one of the brakemen just then, bearing a can ofmilk. The kindly conductor had found a tin plate, too--a section of thefireman's dinner kettle--and into this he poured some of the milk for thehungry little spaniel. 

"There you are, Buster, " he said, patting the dog, beside which Nan kneltto watch the process of consumption--for the puppy was so hungry that hetried to get nose, ears and fore-paws right in the dish!

"You're awfully kind, " Nan said to Mr. Carter. "Now the little fellowwill be all right. "

"You better get him out of the way of that fat man, " advised theconductor. "He owns the dog, you know. Bulson, I mean. He's forward inthe other car, gourmandizing himself on a jar of condensed milk. I lethim have one can; but I'm going to hold the rest against emergency. Nowthat the snow has stopped falling, " he added cheerfully, as he passed on, "they ought to get help to us pretty soon. "

The puppy was ready to cuddle down in his carrier and go to sleep when hehad lapped up the milk. Nan wiped his silky ears with her pockethandkerchief, and his cunning little muzzle as well, and left him with apat to go and seek Bess. 

She found her chum still talking with Mr. Snubbins in the opening betweenthe two cars. "Oh, Nan!" cried the impulsive one, rushing to meet herchum. "What do you think?"

"On what subject, young lady--on what subject?" demanded Nan, in her mostdictatorial way, and aping one of the teachers at Lakeview Hall. 

"On the subject of eats!" laughed Bess. 

"Oh, my dear! Don't talk about it, please! If you drew a verbal pictureof a banquet right now, " Nan declared, "I'd eat it, verb and all. "

"Do be sane and sensible, " said Bess, importantly. "We're going out tosupper. Now, wait! don't faint, Nan. This Mr. Snubbins is a dear! Why, heis a regular angel with chin whiskers--nothing less. "

"He's never invited us to his house for supper?"

"No. His home is too far. But he says we can come along with him toPeleg's house and they will welcome us there. They are very hospitablepeople, these Mortons, so our angel says. And he and his daughter, Celia, will come back with us. And we can buy something there at the Mortons' tohelp feed the hungry children aboard the train. "

That last appealed to Nan Sherwood, if nothing else did. There was but asingle doubt in her mind. 

"Oh, Bess!" she cried. "Do you think we ought to go? Shouldn't we askpermission?"

"Of whom?" demanded Bess, in surprise. "Surely the train won't steam offand leave us, " and she broke into a laugh. "Oh, come on, Miss Fussbudget!Don't be afraid. I've been asking permission a dozen times a day for morethan three months. I'm glad to do something 'off my own bat, ' as mybrother Billy says. Come on, Nan. "

So Nan went. They found Mr. Si Snubbins, "the angel with chin whiskers, "ready to depart. He climbed up first and got upon the crust of the snow;then he helped both girls to mount to his level. So another adventure forNan and Bess began. 

CHAPTER X

THE RUNAWAYS

The almost level rays of a sinking sun shone upon a vast waste of whitewhen the two girls from the snow-bound train started off with the farmertoward the only sign of life to be seen upon the landscape--a curl ofblue smoke rising from a chimney of a farmhouse. 

"That's Peleg's place, " explained Mr. Snubbins. "He's a right well-to-doman, Peleg Morton is. We don't mind havin' our Celia go so much withSallie Morton--though her mother does say that Sallie puts crazy notionsinto our Celia's head. But I reckon all gals is kinder crazy, ain'tthey?" pursued the farmer, with one of his sly glances and chuckles. 

"Always!" agreed Bess, heartily. "Half of our girls at Lakeview Hall haveto be kept in straightjackets, or padded cells. "

"Mercy, Bess!" whispered Nan. "That's worthy of extravagant LauraPolk herself. "

"Thank you, " responded Bess, as the farmer recovered from a fit of "thechuckles" over Bess Harley's joke. Bess added this question:

"What particular form of insanity do your daughter and Sallie Mortondisplay, Mr. Snubbins?"

"Movin' picters, " ejaculated the farmer. "Drat 'em! They've jest aboutbewitched my gal and Sallie Morton. "

"Goodness!" gasped Nan. "There aren't moving picture shows away out herein the country, are there?"

"Oncet a week at the Corner, " said Mr. Snubbins. "An' we all go. But thatain't so much what's made Celia and Sallie so crazy. Ye see, las' fallwas a comp'ny makin' picters right up here in Peleg's west parster. Goodness me! there was a crowd of 'em. They camped in tents like Gypsies, and they did the most amazin' things--they sure did!

"Dif'rent from Gypsies, " pursued the farmer, "they paid for all they gotaround here. Good folks to sell chicken an' aigs to. City prices, wegot, " and Mr. Snubbins licked his lips like a dog in remembrance of agood meal. 

"An' I vow ter Maria!" the man went on to say, with some eagerness. "We'most all around here air in them picters; ya-as'm! Ye wouldn't think Iwas an actor, would ye?" And he went off into another spasm of chuckles. 

"Oh, what fun!" cried Bess. 

"Paid us two dollars a day for jest havin' our photographts took, theydid, " said Mr. Snubbins. 

"And they paid three to the gals, 'cause they dressed up. That's what setCelia and Sallie by the ears. Them foolish gals has got it in their headsthat they air jest cut out for movin' picter actresses. They wanter gooff ter the city an' git jobs in one o' chem there studios! Peleg sayshe'll spank his gal, big as she is, if she don't stop sich foolish talk. I reckon Celia won't go fur without Sallie. "

"My! it must be quite exciting to work for the pictures, " saidromantic Bess. 

"Sure it is, " chuckled the farmer. "One feller fell off a hoss while theywas up here an' broke his collarbone; an' one of the gals tried ter milkour old Sukey from the wrong side, an' Sukey nigh kicked her through theside of the shed, " and Mr. Snubbins indulged in another fit of laughterover this bit of comedy. 

He was still chuckling when they climbed down from the hard eminence of adrift into a spot that had been cleared of snow before the Morton's sidedoor. At once the door was opened and a big, bewhiskered man looked out. 

"Well, well, Si!" he ejaculated. "I thought them was your Celia and mySallie. _Them_ girls air strangers, ain't they? Some more of that tribeof movin' picture actresses?"

"I vow ter Maria, Peleg!" ejaculated Mr. Snubbins. "What's happened toCelia? Ain't she here?"

"No. Nor no more ain't Sallie, " Mr. Morton said. "Come in. Bring in themyoung ladies. I'll tell ye about it. Sallie's maw is mighty upsot. "

"But ain't Celia _here_?" reiterated Mr. Snubbins, as he and the chumsfrom Tillbury passed into the warm, big kitchen. 

"No, she ain't, I tell you. "

"But she started over for here yesterday morning, figgerin' to spend theday with your Sallie. When she didn't come back at night my woman an' mereckoned it snowed so hard you folks wouldn't let her come. "

"Oh, lawk!" exclaimed Mr. Morton. "They was off yesterday mornin' just assoon as your Celia got here. Planned it all a forehand--the deceivin'imps! Said they was goin' to the Corner. An' they did! Sam Higgin picked'em up there an' took 'em along to Littleton; an' when he plowed pasthere jest at evenin' through the snow he brought me a note. Hi, Maw, bring in that there letter, " shouted Peleg Morton. 

That the two men were greatly disturbed by the running away of theirdaughters, there could be no doubt. Nan was sorry she and Bess had comeover from the train. These people were in serious trouble and she and herchum could not help them. 

She drew the wondering Bess toward the door, and whispered: "What do youthink, Bess? Can't we go back to the train alone?"

"What for, Nan?" cried Bess. 

"Well, you see, they are in trouble. "

At that moment Mrs. Morton hurried in with a fluttering sheet of paper inher hand. She was a voluminous woman in a stiffly starched house dress, everything about her as clean as a new pin, and a pair of silver-bowedspectacles pushed up to her fast graying hair. She was a wholesome, hearty, motherly looking woman, and Nan Sherwood was attracted to her atfirst sight. 

Even usually unobservant Bess was impressed. "Isn't she a _love_?" shewhispered to Nan. 

"Poor woman!" Nan responded in the same tone, for there were undriedtears on the cheeks of the farmer's wife. 

"Here's Si, Maw, " said Mr. Morton. "He ain't been knowin' about our girland his Celia runnin' off, before. "

"How do, Si?" responded Mrs. Morton. "Your wife'll be scairt ter death, Ihave no doubt. What'll become of them foolish girls--Why, Peke! who'sthese two young ladies?"

Mr. Morton looked to Mr. Snubbins for an introduction, scratching hishead. Mr. Snubbins said, succinctly: "These here gals are from a railroadtrain that's snowed under down there in the cut. I expect they airhungry, Miz' Morton. "

"Goodness me! Is that so?" cried the good woman, bustling forward andjerking her spectacles down astride her nose, the better to see theunexpected guests. "Snowed up--a whole train load, did you say? Ideclare! Sit down, do. I won't haf to put any extry plates on the suppertable, for I _did_ have it set, hopin' Sallie an' Celia would come back, "and the poor mother began to sob openly. 

"I vow, Maw! You _do_ beat all. Them gals couldn't git back home throughthis snow, if they wanted to. And they likely got to some big town orother, " said Mr. Morton, "before the worst of the blizzard. They've gotmoney; the silly little tykes! When they have spent it all, they'll beglad to come back. "

"Celia will, maybe, " sobbed Mrs. Morton, brokenly. "She ain't got thedetermination of our Sallie. She'd starve rather than give in she wasbeat. We was too ha'sh with her, Paw. I feel we was too ha'sh! And maybewe won't never see our little gal again, " and the poor lady sat downheavily in the nearest chair, threw her apron over her head, and cried inutter abandon. 

CHAPTER XI

"A RURAL BEAUTY"

Nan Sherwood could not bear to see anybody cry. Her heart had alreadygone out to the farmer's wife whose foolish daughter had left home, andto see the good woman sobbing so behind her apron, won every grain ofsympathy and pity in Nan's nature. 

"Oh, you poor soul!" cried the girl, hovering over Mrs. Morton, andputting an arm across her broad, plump shoulders. "Don't cry--don't, don't cry! I'm _sure_ the girls will come back. They are foolish torun away; but surely they will be glad to get back to their dear, dear homes. "

"You don't know my Sallie, " sobbed the woman. 

"Oh! but she can't forget you--of course she can't, " Nan said. "Why everdid they want to run away from home?"

"Them plagued movin' picters, " Mr. Snubbins said gruffly, blowing hisnose. "I don't see how I kin tell my woman about Celia. "

"It was that there 'Rural Beauty' done it, " Mr. Morton broke inpeevishly. "Wish't I'd never let them film people camp up there on mypaster lot and take them picters on my farm. Sallie was jest carried awaywith it. She acted in that five-reel film, 'A Rural Beauty. ' And I mustsay she looked as purty as a peach in it. "

"That's what they've run away for, I bet, " broke in Si Snubbins. "Celiawas nigh about crazy to see that picter run off. She was in it, too. Ofcourse, a big drama like that wouldn't come to the Corner, and Ishouldn't wonder if that's what took 'em both to the city, first of all. Still, " he added, "I reckon they wanter be actorines, too. "

Bess suppressed a giggle at that, for Si Snubbins was funny, whetherintentionally so or not. Nan continued to try to soothe the almosthysterical Mrs. Morton. Mr. Morton said:

"Let's have that letter, Maw, that Sallie writ and sent back by SamHiggins from Littleton. "

Mrs. Morton reached out a hand blindly with the paper in it. Nan took itto give to Mr. Morton. 

"You read it, Si, " said Mr. Morton. "I ain't got my specs handy. "

"Neither have I--and I ain't no hand to read writin' nohow, " said hisneighbor, honestly. "Here, young lady, " to Nan. "Your eyes is better thanourn; you read it out to us. "

Nan did as she was asked, standing beside Mrs. Morton's chair the whilewith a hand upon her shoulder:

"'Dear Maw and Paw:--

"'Celia and me have gone to the city and we are going to get jobs withthe movies. We know we can--and make good, too. You tell Celia's Paw andMaw about her going with me. I'll take care of her. We've got plentymoney--what with what we earned posing in those pictures in the fall, theRural Beauty, and all. We will write you from where we are going, and youwon't mind when you know how successful we are and how we are gettingregular wages as movie actresses. 

"'Good-bye, dear Paw and Maw, and a hundred kisses for Maw from

"'Your daughter, "'Sallie Morton. 

"'P. S. --I won't be known by my own name in the movies. I've picked a realnice sounding one, and so has Celia. '"

"There! You see?" said Mrs. Morton, who had taken the apron down so shecould hear Nan the better. "We can't never trace 'em, because they'll begoing by some silly names. Dear, dear me, Peke! Somethin' must be done. "

"I dunno what, Maw, " groaned the big man, hopelessly. 

"What city have they gone to?" asked Bess, abruptly. 

"Why, Miss, " explained Mr. Morton, "they could go to half a dozen citiesfrom Littleton. Of course they didn't stay there, although Littleton's abig town. "

"Chicago?" queried Bess. 

"Perhaps. But they could get to Detroit, or Indianapolis, or even toCincinnati. "

"There are more picture making concerns in Chicago, " suggested Nan, quietly, "than in the other cities named, I am sure. And the fare toChicago is less than to the others. "

"Right you air, Miss!" agreed Si Snubbins. "That's where them pesky galshave set out for, I ain't a doubt. "

"And how are we goin' to get 'em back?" murmured Mr. Morton. 

"The good Lord won't let no harm come to the dears, I hope and pray, "said his wife, wiping her eyes. "Somebody'll be good to 'em if they getsick or hungry. There! We ain't showin' very good manners to our guests, Peke. These girls are off that train where there ain't a bite to eat, Ido suppose; and they must be half starved. Let's have supper. You pull upa chair, too, Si. "

"All right, Miz' Morton, " agreed Mr. Snubbins, briskly. 

Nan felt some diffidence in accepting the good woman's hospitality. Shewhispered again to Bess:

"Shall we stay? They're in such trouble. "

"But goodness!" interrupted Bess. "I'm hungry. And we want to get herinterested in the kiddies aboard the train. "

"Yes, that's so, " agreed Nan. 

"Come, girls, " Mrs. Morton called from the other room. "Come right inand lay off your things--do. You are pretty dears--both of you. Citygirls, I'spect?"

"No, ma'am, " Nan replied. "We live in a small town when we are at home. But we've been to boarding school and are on our way home for Christmas. "

"And after that, " Bess added briskly, "we're going to Chicago fortwo--whole--weeks!"

"You air? Well, well! D'you hear that, Peke?" as her husband came heavilyinto the room. 

"What is it, Maw?"

"These girls are going to Chicago. If our Sallie and Si's Celia have gonethere, mebbe these girls might come across them. "

"Oh, Mrs. Morton!" cried Nan. "If we do, we will surely send them home toyou. Or, if they are foolish enough not to want to come, we'll let youknow at once where they are. "

"Of course we will, " agreed Bess. 

"If you only had a picture of your daughter?" suggested Nan. 

"Of Sallie? Why, we have, " said Mrs. Morton. "She's some bigger now; butshe had her photographt took in several 'poses', as they call 'em, whenshe was playin' in that 'Rural Beauty'. I got the prints myself from theman that took 'em. "

But when she hunted for the pictures, Mrs. Morton found they weremissing. "I declare for't!" she said, quite vexed. "I do believe thatSallie took 'em with her to show to folks she expects to ask for work. Jest like her! Oh, she's smart, Sallie is. "

"There's that picter she had took the time we went to the County Fair, three year ago, Maw, " suggested Mr. Morton, as they prepared to sit downto the bountiful table. "I 'low she's filled out some since then; shewas as leggy as a colt. But these gals can see what she looks like inthe face. "

While he was speaking his wife brought forth the family album--a greenplush affair with a huge gilt horseshoe on the cover. She turned over theleaves till she found Sallie's photograph, and displayed it with pride. Nan secretly thought her father's description of Sallie at twelve yearsold or so was a very good one; but Mrs. Morton evidently saw no defectsin her child's personal appearance. 

"Sallie wore her hair in curls then, you see, " said Mrs. Morton. "But shesays they ain't fashionable now, and she's been windin' her braids intoeartabs like that leadin' lady in the movie company done. Makes Sallielook dreadfully growed up, " sighed the troubled woman. "I sartainly dohate to see my little girl change into a woman so quick. "

"That's what my woman says, " agreed Snubbins. "Celia's 'bout growed up, she thinks. But I reckon if her mother laid her across her lap like sheuster a few years back, she could nigh about slap most of the foolishnessout o' Celia. Gals nowadays git to feel too big for their boots--that'swhat the matter. "

"Mercy!" gasped Bess. "I hope my mother won't go back to firstprinciples with me, if I displease her. And I'm sure your Celia can't bereally bad. "

"Just foolish--just foolish, both on 'em, " Mr. Morton said. "Let me helpyou again. "

"Oh, I'm so full, " sighed Bess. 

"I'm afraid ye ain't makin' out a supper, " Mrs. Morton said. 

"Indeed we are, " cried Nan. "I only wish the children on that snow-boundtrain had some of these good things. "

This turned the current of conversation and the Mortons were sooninterested in the girls' story of the castaways in the snow. Mrs. Mortonset to work at once and packed two big baskets with food. A whole hamthat she had boiled that day was made into sandwiches. There were hardboiled eggs, and smoked beef and cookies, pies and cakes. In fact, thegood woman stripped her pantry for the needy people in the stalled train. 

Her husband got into his outer garments and helped Si Snubbins carry thebaskets across the snow. Mrs. Morton's last words to the girls were:

"Do, _do_, my dears, try to find my girl and Celia when you go toChicago. "

Nan and Bess promised to do so, for neither realized what a great cityChicago is, and that people might live there, almost side by side, foryears and never meet. 

CHAPTER XII

RAVELL BULSON'S TROUBLE

"What do you think of those two girls, anyway, Nan?" Bess Harley asked. 

This was late in the evening, after the porter had made up theirberths again in the Pullman. The baskets of food had been welcomed bythe snow-bound passengers with acclaim. The two girls were thankedmore warmly for their thoughtfulness than Nan and Bess believed theyreally deserved. 

Bess Harley's question, of course, referred to Sallie Morton and CeliaSnubbins, the girls who had run away from home to become moving pictureactresses. Nan replied to her chum's query:

"That Sallie Morton must be a very silly girl indeed to leave such acomfortable home and such a lovely mother. Perhaps Celia Snubbins may nothave been so pleasantly situated; but I am sure she had no reason forrunning away. "

Bess sighed. "Well, " she murmured, "it must be great fun to work for themovies. Just think of those two country girls appearing in a five-reelfilm like 'A Rural Beauty. '"

"Well, for goodness' sake, Bess Harley!" cried Nan, astonished, "have youbeen bitten by _that_ bug?"

"Don't call it 'bug'--that sounds so common, " objected Bess. "Call it'bacilli of the motion picture. ' It must be _great_, " she addedemphatically, "to see yourself acting on the screen!"

"I guess so, " Nan said, with a laugh. "A whole lot those two foolishgirls _acted_ in that 'Rural Beauty' picture. They were probably two ofthe 'merry villagers' who helped to make a background for the realactresses. You know very well, Bess, that girls like us wouldn't be hiredby any film company for anything important. "

"Why--you know, Nan, " her chum said, "that some of the most highly paidfilm people are young girls. "

"Yes. But they are particularly fitted for the work. Do you feel thegenius of a movie actress burning in you?" scoffed Nan. 

"No-o, " admitted Bess. "I think it is that hard boiled egg I ate. And itdoesn't exactly burn. "

Nan went off in a gale of laughter at this, and stage-struck Bess chimedin. "I don't care, " the latter repeated, the last thing before theyclimbed into their respective berths, "it must be oodles of fun to workfor the movies. "

While the chums slept there were great doings outside the snow-boundtrain. The crew turned out with shovels, farmers in the neighborhoodhelped, and part of a lately arrived section gang joined in to shovel thesnow away from the stalled engine and train. 

Cordwood had been bought of Peleg Morton and hauled over to thelocomotive for fuel. With this the engineer and fireman managed to makesufficient steam to heat the Pullman coach and the smoking car. Nan andBess had brought little "Buster, " as the spaniel had been named, intotheir section and, having been fed and made warm, he gave the girlshardly any trouble during the night. 

Selfish Mr. Bulson, who had shipped the puppy home to his little boy, seemed to have no interest whatsoever in Buster's welfare. 

It was not until the great snow-plow and a special locomotive appearedthe next morning, and towed the stalled train on to its destination, andNan Sherwood and her chum arrived at Tillbury, that Nan learned anythingmore regarding Mr. Ravell Bulson. 

Mr. And Mrs. Sherwood had been more than a little worried by Nan's delayin getting home and Mr. Sherwood was at the station to meet the trainwhen it finally steamed into Tillbury. 

Owneyville, which the girls knew to be Mr. Bulson's home town, was astation beyond Tillbury, and a much smaller town. The fat man had tochange cars, so it was not surprising that he stepped down upon theTillbury platform just as Nan ran into her father's arms. 

"Oh, Papa Sherwood!" Nan almost sobbed. 

"My dear Nancy!" he returned, quite as much moved. 

And just then Mr. Bulson appeared beside them. "Well, Sherwood!" the fatman growled, "have you come to your senses yet?"

Robert Sherwood's face flushed and he urged Nan away along the snowyplatform. "I don't care to talk to you, Bulson, " he said shortly. 

"Well, you _will_ talk to me!" exclaimed the angry fat man. "I'll get youinto court where you'll have to talk. "

Mr. Sherwood kept right on with Nan and Bulson was left fuming andmuttering on the platform. Bess had already been put into the familysleigh and was being whisked home. Nan and her father tramped brisklythrough the snowy streets toward "the little dwelling in amity, " whichNan had not seen since leaving Tillbury for her Uncle Henry Sherwood'shome at Pine Camp, ten months before. 

"Oh, _dear_, Papa Sherwood!" gasped Nan. "What is the matter with thathorrid man? He says the most dreadful things about you!"

"What's that?" demanded her father, quickly. "What do you knowabout Bulson?"

"More than I really want to know about him, " said Nan, ruefully. Sherelated briefly what had happened a few days before on Pendragon Hill. "And when he called you a rascal, I--oh! I was very, very angry! What didhe mean, Papa Sherwood?"

But her father postponed his explanation until later; and it was reallyfrom her mother that Nan heard the story of Mr. Sherwood's trouble withRavell Bulson. Mrs. Sherwood was very indignant about it, and so, ofcourse, was Nan. 

A week or more before, Mr. Sherwood had had business in Chicago, and inreturning took the midnight train. The sleeping car was side-tracked atTillbury and when most of the passengers were gone the man in the berthunder Mr. Sherwood's began to rave about having been robbed. His watchand roll of banknotes had disappeared. 

The victim of the robbery was Mr. Ravell Bulson. Mr. Bulson had at onceaccused the person occupying the berth over his as being the guiltyperson. Nan's father had got up early, and had left the sleeping car longbefore Mr. Bulson discovered his loss. 

The railroad and the sleeping car company, of course, refused toacknowledge responsibility for Mr. Bulson's valuables. Nor on meresuspicion could Mr. Bulson get a justice in Tillbury to issue a warrantfor Mr. Sherwood. 

But Ravell Bulson had been to the Sherwood cottage on Amity Street, andhad talked very harshly. Besides, the fat man had in public loudlyaccused his victim of being dishonest. 

Mr. Sherwood's reputation for probity in Tillbury was well founded; hewas liked and respected; those who really knew him would not beinfluenced by such a scandal. 

But as Mr. Sherwood was making plans to open an agency in Tillbury for acertain automobile manufacturing concern, he feared that the report ofMr. Bulson's charge would injure his usefulness to the corporation he wasabout to represent. To sue Bulson for slander would merely give widercirculation to the story the fat man had originated. 

Ravell Bulson was a traveling man and was not often in Tillbury--that wasone good thing. He had a reputation in his home town of Owneyville ofbeing a quarrelsome man, and was not well liked by his neighbors. 

Nevertheless a venomous tongue can do a great deal of harm, and aspiteful enemy may sometimes bring about a greater catastrophe than amore powerful adversary. 

CHAPTER XIII

ADVENTURES IN A GREAT CITY

"Now! what _do_ you know about this?" Bess Harley demanded, withconsiderable vexation. 

"Of course, it's a mistake--or else that big clock's wrong, " declaredNan Sherwood. 

"No fear of a railroad clock's being wrong, " said her chum, grumpily. "That old time table was wrong. _They're_ always wrong. No more senseto a time table than there is to a syncopated song. _It_ said we wereto arrive in this station three-quarters of an hour ago--and it turnsout that it meant an entirely different station and an entirelydifferent train. "

Nan laughed rather ruefully. "I guess it is our own fault and not thetime table's. But the fact remains that we are in the wrong place, and atthe wrong time. Walter and Grace, of course, met that other train and, not finding us, will have gone home, not expecting us till to-morrow. "

"Goodness, what a pickle!" Bess complained. "And how will we find theMason's house, Nan Sherwood?"

The chums had the number and street of their friends' house, but itoccurred to neither of them to go to a telephone booth and call up thehouse, stating the difficulty they were in. Nor did the girls think ofasking at the information bureau, or even questioning one of theuniformed policemen about the huge station. 

"Now, of course, " Nan said firmly, "some street car must go withinwalking distance of Grace's house. "

"Of course, but which car?" demanded Bess. 

"That is the question, isn't it?" laughed Nan. 

"One of these taxi-cabs could take us, " suggested Bess. 

"But they cost so much, " objected her friend. "And we can't read thosefunny clocks they have and the chauffeur could overcharge us all hepleased. Besides, " Nan added, "I don't like their looks. "

"Looks of what--the taxis?"

"The chauffeurs, " responded Nan, promptly. 

"We-ell, we've got to go somehow--and trust to somebody, " Bess saidreflectively. "I wonder should we go to that hotel where we stayed thatweek with mother? They would take us in I suppose. "

"But goodness! why should we be so helpless?" demanded Nan. "I'm sure twoboys would start right out and find their way to Grace's. "

"Would you _dare_?" cried Bess. 

"Why not? Come on! We don't want to spend all our money in taxi fares. Let's go over there and ask that car man who seems to be bossing theconductors and motormen. "

The girls, with their handbags, started across the great square beforethe station. Almost at once they found themselves in a tangle ofvehicular traffic that quite confused Bess, and even troubled thecooler-headed Nan. 

"Oh, Nan! I'm scared!" cried her chum, clinging with her free hand toNan's arm. 

"For pity's sake, don't be foolish!" commanded Nan. "You'll get meexcited, too--Oh!"

An automobile swept past, so near the two girls that the step brushedtheir garments. Bess almost swooned. Nan wished with all her heart thatthey had not so recklessly left the sidewalk. 

Suddenly a shrill voice cried at her elbow: "Hi, greeny! you look out, now, or one of these horses will take a bite out o' you. My! but you'rethe green goods, for fair. "

Nan turned to look, expecting to find a saucy street boy; but the ownerof the voice was a girl. She was dirty-faced, undersized, poorly dressed, and ill-nourished. But she was absolutely independent, and stood there inthe crowded square with all the assurance of a traffic policeman. 

"Come on, greenies, " urged this strange little mortal (she could not havebeen ten years old), "and I'll beau you over the crossing myself. Something'll happen to you if you take root here. "

She carried in a basket on her arm a few tiny bunches of stale violets, each bunch wrapped in waxed paper to keep it from the frost. Nan had seendozens of these little flower-sellers of both sexes on the street whenshe had passed through Chicago with her Uncle Henry the winter before. 

"Oh, let's go with her, " cried the quite subdued Bess. "Do, Nan!"

It seemed rather odd for these two well-dressed and well-grown girls tobe convoyed by such a "hop-o'-my-thumb" as the flower-seller. But thelatter got Nan and Bess to an "isle of safety" in a hurry, and would thenhave darted away into the crowd without waiting to be thanked, had notNan seized the handle of her basket. 

"Wait!" she cried. "Don't run away. "

"Hey!" said the flower-seller, "I ain't got time to stop and chin-chin. Igot these posies to sell. "

"Sell us two, " Nan commanded. "Wait!"

"Aw right. 'F you say so, " said the small girl. "Fifteen a bunch, " sheadded quickly, shrewdly increasing by a nickel the regular price of thestale boutonni�res. 

Nan opened her purse to pay for both. Bess said, rather timidly: "Ishould think you would be afraid of getting run over every time you crossthe street--you're so little. "

"Aw--say!" responded the strange girl, quite offended. "What d'ye thinkI am--a _kid_? I live here, I do! I ain't country, and don't know meway 'round. "

"Meaning that we _are_, I suppose?" laughed Nan. 

"Well, " drawled the girl, "it sticks out all over you. I can tell 'em ablock away. An' I bet you're lost and don't know where you're goin'. Youtwo didn't come here to be pitcher actors, did ye?"

"Why--no!" gasped Bess. 

Nan was moved to ask. "What put that idea in your head, honey?"

"I guess 'most girls that run away from home nowadays are lookin' to makea hit in the pitchers--ain't they?"

"You ridiculous child, you!" laughed Bess. "We haven't run away. "

"No? Well, I thought mebbe youse did, " said the flower-seller, grinningimpishly. "I see a plenty of 'em comin' off the trains, I do. "

"Runaway girls?" cried Nan, "They don't tell me they have run away. But they are all greenies--justas green as grass, " this shrewd child of the street declared. 

"Have you seen any girls lately who have come to the city to be pictureactresses?" Nan asked with sudden eagerness. 

"Yep, " was the reply. 

"Sure?" cried Bess. "You don't mean it!"

"Yes, I do. Two girls bigger'n you. Le's see--it was last Friday. "

"The second day of the big blizzard?" cried Nan. 

"That's the very day, " agreed Bess. "It's when Sallie and Celia wouldhave got here if they _were_ coming to Chicago. "

"Hi!" exclaimed the flower girl. "What's you talkin' about? Who's Sallieand Celia?"

"Girls whom we think came to the city the other day just as you said, "Nan explained. "They have run away to be moving picture actresses. "

"Hi!" exclaimed the flower-seller again. "What sort o' lookin' girls?"

"Why--I don't know exactly, " confessed Nan. "Do we, Bess? Mrs. Mortonsaid Sallie took with her those photographs that were taken while thegirls were playing as extras in 'A Rural Beauty. '"

"That's it!" suddenly interrupted the flower-girl. "I bet I seen thosetwo. They didn't call each other 'Sallie' and 'Celia'; but they had somefancy names--I forgot what. "

"Oh! are you _sure_?" cried Bess. 

"They had them photographs just like you say. They showed 'em to me. Yousee, " said the little girl, "I showed 'em where they could eat cheap, andthey told me how they was going to join a movie company. "

CHAPTER XIV

THE FIRST CLUE

Nan and her chum were wildly excited. During their brief stay atTillbury over Christmas they had been so busy, at home and abroad, thatthey had not thought much about Sallie Morton and Celia Snubbins, thetwo runaways. 

In Nan's case, not having seen her mother for ten months, she did not--atthe last moment--even desire to come away from her and visit her schoolfriends in Chicago. 

There really was so much to say, so much to learn about Scotland and thebeautiful old Emberon Castle and the village about it, and about thequeer people Mrs. Sherwood had met, too! Oh! Nan hoped that she wouldsee the place in time--the "Cradle of the Blake Clan, " as Mr. Sherwoodcalled it. 

There had been presents, of course, and in the giving and accepting ofthese Nan had found much pleasure and excitement--especially when shefound a box of beautiful new clothes for her big doll, all made inScotland by "Momsey, " who knew just how precious Beautiful Beulah was inher daughter's eyes. 

With all her work and play at Lakeview Hall, Nan Sherwood had notforgotten Beulah. The other girls of her age and in her grade wereinclined to laugh at Nan for playing dolls; but at the last of the termBeautiful Beulah had held the post of honor in Room Seven, Corridor Four. 

Nan's love for dolls foreshadowed her love for babies. She never couldpass a baby by without trying to make friends with it. The little girlsat Lakeview Hall found a staunch friend and champion in Nan Sherwood. Itwas a great grief to Mrs. Sherwood and Nan that there were no babies inthe "little dwelling in amity. " Nan could barely remember the brotherthat had come to stay with them such a little while, and then had goneaway forever. 

Nan's heart was touched by the apparent needs of this street girl who hadcome to the rescue of Bess and herself when they arrived in Chicago. Allthe time she and her chum were trying to learn something about the twogirls who had come to the great city to be moving picture actresses, andlistening to what the flower-seller had to say about them, Nan wasthinking, too, of their unfortunate little informant. 

"Is that restaurant where you took those girls to eat near here?" shesuddenly asked. 

"Aw, say! 'tain't no rest'rant, " said the child. "It's just MotherBeasley's hash-house. "

"Goodness!" gasped Bess. "Is it a _nice_ place?"

The girl grinned. "'Cordin' ter what you thinks is nice. I 'spect _you'd_like the Auditorium Annex better. But Mother Beasley's is pretty goodwhen you ain't got much to spend. "

Bess looked at Nan curiously. The latter was eager to improve thisacquaintanceship so strangely begun, and for more than one reason. 

"Could you show us to Mother Beasley's--if it isn't very far away?"Nan asked. 

"Aw, say! What d'ye think? I ain't nawthan' ter do but beau greeniesaround this burg? A swell chaunc't I'd have to git any eats meself. Igotter sell these posies, I have. "

"But you can eat with us!" Nan suggested. 

"Oh, Nan!" Bess whispered. "Do you s'pose we can find any clue to thosegirls there?"

"I hope so, " returned Nan, in the same low voice. 

"Goodness! I'm just as excited as I can be, " her chum went on to say. "We'll be regular detectives. _This_ beats being a movie actress, right now. "

Nan smiled, but in a moment was grave again. "I'd do a great deal forthat lovely Mrs. Morton, " she said. "And even funny old Si Snubbins hadtears in his eyes at the last when he begged us to find his Celia. "

"I know it, " Bess agreed sympathetically. "But I can't help being excitedjust the same. If we should find them at this Mother Beasley's--"

"I don't expect that; but we may hear of them there, " said Nan. "Here'sour new chum. "

The flower-girl had darted away to sell one of her little bouquets. Nowshe came back and took up the discussion where she had dropped it. 

"Now about those eats, " she said. "I ain't in the habit of eating at allhours; it don't agree wid my constitootin, me doctor tells me. Fact is, sometimes I don't eat much, if _any_. "

"Oh!" gasped Bess. 

"That's when I don't sell out. An' I got five posies left. I b'lieve I'dbetter take ye up on this offer. Youse pay for me feed for the pleasureof me comp'ny; hey?"

"That's the answer, " said Nan, spiritedly. "We're going to be goodfriends, I can see. "

"We are if youse is goin' to pay for me eats, " agreed the girl. 

"What is your name?" asked Nan, as their young pilot guided thechums across to the opening of a side-street. "Mine is Nan, and myfriend's is Bess. "

"Well, they calls me some mighty mean names sometimes; but my real, honest-to-goodness name is Inez. Me mudder was a Gypsy Queen and mefadder was boss of a section gang on de railroad somewhere. He went offand me mudder died, and I been livin' with me aunt. She's good enoughwhen she ain't got a bottle by her, and me and her kids have good times. But I gotter rustle for me own grub. We all haster. "

Nan and Bess listened to this, and watched the independent little thingin much amazement. Such a creature neither of the chums from Tillbury hadever before heard of or imagined. 

"Do you suppose she is telling the truth?" whispered Bess to Nan. 

"I don't see why she should tell a wrong story gratuitously, " Nanreturned. 

"Come on, girls, " said Inez, turning into another street--narrowerand more shabby than the first. "Lift your feet! I ain't got no timeto waste. "

Nan laughed and hastened her steps; but Bess looked doubtful. 

"Hi!" exclaimed the street girl, "are you sure you two ain't wantin' tobreak into the movies, too?"

"Not yet, " proclaimed Nan. "But we would like to find a couple of girlswho, I think, came to Chicago for that purpose. "

"Hi! them two I was tellin' you about?"

"Perhaps. "

"Their folks want 'em back?" asked the street child, abruptly. 

"I should say they did!" cried Bess. 

"Ain't they the sillies!" exclaimed Inez. "Catch me leavin' a place wherethey didn't beat me too much and where the eats came reg'lar. "

"Oh!" again ejaculated Bess. 

Just then a little boy, more ragged even than their guide, approached. Atonce Inez proceeded to shove him off the sidewalk, and when he objected, she slapped him soundly. 

"Why, goodness me, child!" cried the astonished Nan, "what did you dothat for? Did he do anything to you?"

"Nope. Never seen him before, " admitted Inez. "But I pitch into all theboys I see that I'm sure I can whip. Then they let me alone. They thinkI'm tough. These boys wouldn't let a girl sell a flower, nor a newspaper, nor nothin', if they could help it. We girls got ter fight 'em. "

"The beginning of suffragism, " groaned Nan. 

"I never heard of such a thing!" Bess cried. "Fighting the boys--howdisgraceful!"

Inez stared at her. "Hi!" she finally exclaimed, "you wouldn't make muchif you didn't fight, I can tell ye. When I see a boy with a basket ofposies, I pull it away from him and tear 'em up. Boys ain't got nobusiness selling posies around here. That's a girl's job, and I'm goin'to show 'em, I am!"

Nan and Bess listened to this with mingled emotions. It was laughable, yet pitiful. Little boys and girls fighting like savages for a bareexistence. The chums were silent the rest of the way to the old brickhouse--just a "slice" out of a three-story-and-basement row of suchhouses, which Inez announced to be "Mother Beasley's. "

"Sometimes she's got her beds all full and you hafter wait for lodgin's. Mebbe she'll let you camp in her room, or in one of the halls up-stairs. "

"Oh, but, my dear, we don't wish to stay!" Nan said. "Only to eat hereand inquire about those other girls. "

"Where' ye goin' to stop?" asked Inez, curiously. 

"We have friends out by Washington Park, " Bess said. "They'd have met us, only there was some mistake in the arrival of our train. "

"Hi! Washington Park?" exclaimed the flower-seller. "Say, you must bebig-bugs. "

Nan laughed. "I guess _they_ are, " she said. 

"Youse won't be suited with Mother Beasley's grub, " said the girl, hesitating at the basement steps. 

"I believe she's right, " Bess said faintly, as the odor of cookingsuddenly burst forth with the opening of the door under the long flightleading to the front door of the house. 

"I've eaten in a lumber camp, " said Nan, stoutly. "I'm sure this can'tbe as hard. "

CHAPTER XV

CONTRASTS

A girl not much bigger than Inez, nor dressed much better, came outof the basement door of Mother Beasley's, wiping her lips on the backof her hand. 

"Hullo, Ine!" she said to the flower-seller. "Who you got in tow? Somemore greenies. "

"Never you mind, Polly, " returned Inez. "They're just friends of mine--ontheir way to Washington Park. "

"Yes--they--be!" drawled the girl called Polly. 

"Hi! that's all right, " chuckled Inez. "I t'ought I'd make ye sit up andtake notice. But say! wot's good on the menu ter-day?"

"Oh, say! take me tip, " said Polly. "Order two platters of Irish stew an'a plate o' ham an' eggs. Youse'll have a bully feed then. Eggs is cheapan' Mother Beasley's givin' t'ree fer fifteen cents, wid the ham throwedin. That'll give youse each an egg an' plenty of stew in the two plattersfor all t'ree. "

This arrangement of a course dinner on so economical a plan made Bessopen her eyes, while Nan was greatly amused. 

"How strong's the bank?" asked Inez of Nan, whom she considered theleader of the expedition. "Can we stand fifteen cents apiece?"

"I think so, " returned the girl from Tillbury, gravely. 

"Good as gold, then!" their pilot said. "We'll go to it. By-by, Polly!"

She marched into the basement. Bess would never have dared proceed thatfar had it not been for Nan's presence. 

A woman with straggling gray hair met them at the door of the longdining-room. She had a tired and almost toothless smile; but had it notbeen for her greasy wrapper, uncombed hair and grimy nails, MotherBeasley might have been rather attractive. 

"Good afternoon, dearies, " she said. "Dinner's most over; but maybe wecan find something for you. You goin' to eat, Inez?"

"Ev'ry chance't I get, " declared the flower-seller, promptly. 

"Sit right down, " said Mrs. Beasley, pointing to the end of a longtable, the red-and-white cloth of which was stained with the passageof countless previous meals, and covered with the crumbs from"crusty" bread. 

Bess looked more and more doubtful. Nan was more curious than she washungry. Inez sat down promptly and began scraping the crumbs together ina little pile, which pile when completed, she transferred to theoil-cloth covered floor with a dexterous flip of the knife. 

"Come on!" she said. "Shall I order for youse?"

"We are in your hands, Inez, " declared Nan, gravely. "Do with us asyou see fit. "

"Mercy!" murmured Bess, sitting down gingerly enough, after removing hercoat in imitation of her chum. 

"Hi!" shouted Inez, in her inimitable way. "Hi, Mother Beasley! bring ustwo orders of the Irish and one ham an' eggs. Like 'em sunny-side up?"

"Like _what_ sunny-side up?" gasped Bess. 

"Yer eggs. "

"Which is the sunny-side of an egg?" asked Bess faintly, while Nan wasconvulsed with laughter. 

"Hi!" ejaculated Inez again. "Ain't you the greenie? D'ye want yer eggfried on one side, or turned over?"

"Turned over, " Bess murmured. 

"An' you?" asked the flower-seller of Nan. 

"I always like the sunny-side of everything, " our Nan admitted. 

"Hi, Mother Beasley!" shouted Inez, to the woman in the kitchen. "Two ofthem eggs sunny-side up, flop the other. "

Nan burst out laughing again at this. Bess was too funny foranything--to look at!

There were other girls in the long room, but none near where Nan and Bessand their strange little friend sat. Plainly the strangers were workinggirls, somewhat older than the chums, and as they finished their latedinners, one by one, they went out. Some wore cheap finery, but most ofthem showed the shabby hall-mark of poverty in their garments. 

By and by the steaming food appeared. Inez had been helping herselfliberally to bread and butter and the first thing Mother Beasley did wasto remove the latter out of the flower-seller's reach. 

"It's gone up two cents a pound, " she said plaintively. "But if it was adollar a pound some o' you girls would never have no pity on neither thebread nor the butter. "

The stew really smelled good. Even Bess tried it with less doubt. Inezate as though she had fasted for a week and never expected to eat again. 

"Will you have coffee, dearies?" asked Mother Beasley. 

"Three cents apiece extry, " said Inez, hoarsely. 

"Yes, please, " Nan said. "And if there is pie, we will have pie. "

"Oh, you pie!" croaked Inez, aghast at such recklessness. "I reckon you_do_ 'blong up to Washington Park. "

Nan had to laugh again at this, and even Bess grew less embarrassed. WhenMrs. Beasley came back with the coffee and pie, Nan drew her intoconversation. 

"Inez, here, says she introduced two other girls from the country to yourhome a few days ago, " said Nan. "Two girls who were looking for jobs withthe movies. "

"Were they?" asked Mrs. Beasley, placidly. "My girls are always lookingfor jobs. When they get 'em, if they are good jobs, they go to live wherethe accommodations are better. I do the best I can for 'em; but I onlyaccommodate poor girls. "

"And I think you really must do a great deal of good, in your way, Mrs. Beasley, " Nan declared. "Did these two we speak of chance to stay withyou until now?"

"I was thinkin', " said Mrs. Beasley. "I know, now, the ones you mean. Yes, Inez _did_ bring 'em. But they only stayed one night. They wus usedto real milk, and real butter, and strictly fresh eggs, and feather beds. They was real nice about it; but I showed 'em how I couldn't give 'emlive-geese feather beds an' only charge 'em a dollar apiece a week fortheir lodgin's. 

"They had money--or 'peared to have. And they heard the movin' picturestudios were all on the other side of town. So they went away. "

"Oh, dear!" sighed Bess. 

"Well, they were all right at that time. I'll write and tell Mrs. Morton, " Nan said. 

"Did they tell you their names, Mrs. Beasley?" she asked. 

"Bless you! if they did, I don't remember. I have twenty-five girls allthe time and lots of 'em only stay a few nights. I couldn't begin to keeptrack of 'em, or remember their names. "

This was all the information the chums could get from Mrs. Beasleyregarding the girls whom Nan and Bess believed to be the runaways. Alittle later they went out with Inez, the latter evidently filled torepletion. 

"Hi! but that _was_ a feed! You girls must be millionaires' daughters, like the newspapers tell about, " said the street girl. 

"Oh, no, we're not, " Nan cried. 

"Well, you better be joggin' along toward Washington Park. I don'twant youse should get robbed while I'm with you. Mebbe the police'dthink I done it. "

"If you will put us on the car that goes near this address, " said Nan, seriously, showing Inez Walter Mason's card, "we'll be awfully obliged. "

Inez squinted at the address. "I kin do better'n that, " she declared. "I'll put youse in a jitney that'll drop ye right at the corner of thestreet--half a block away. "

"Oh! a jitney!" Bess cried. "Of course. "

Inez marched them a couple of blocks and there, on a busy corner, hailedthe auto-buss. Before this Nan had quietly obtained from the child herhome address and the name of her aunt. 

"In you go, " said the flower-seller. Then she shouted importantly to the'bus-driver: "I got your number, mister! You see't these ladies gets offat their street or you'll get deep into trouble. Hear me?"

"Sure, Miss! Thank ye kindly, Miss, " said the chauffeur, saluting, with a grin, and the jitney staggered on over the frozen snow and iceof the street. 

They came to the Mason house, safe and sound. An important-looking manin a tail coat and an imposing shirt-front let the girls into thegreat house. 

"Yes, Miss, " he said, in answer to Nan's inquiry. "There must have beensome mistake, Miss. Miss Grace and Mister Walter went to the station tomeet you, and returned long ago. I will tell them you have arrived. "

He turned away in a stately manner, and Bess whispered: "I feel just ascountrified as that little thing said we looked. "

Nan was looking about the reception room and contrasting its tastefulrichness with Mother Beasley's place. 

CHAPTER XVI

A SPIN IN THE PARK

Grace's home was a beautiful, great house, bigger than the Harley's atTillbury, and Nan Sherwood was impressed by its magnificence and by thespacious rooms. Her term at Lakeview Hall had made Nan much moreconversant with luxury than she had been before. At home in the littlecottage on the by-street, although love dwelt there, the Sherwoods hadnever lived extravagantly in any particular. Mrs. Sherwood's longinvalidism had eaten up the greater part of Mr. Sherwood's salary when heworked in the Atwater Mills; and now that Mrs. Sherwood's legacy from hergreat uncle, Hugh Blake of Emberon, was partly tied up in the Scotchcourts, the Sherwoods would continue to limit their expenditures. 

At Mrs. Sherwood's urgent request, her husband was going into theautomobile business. A part of the money they had brought back fromScotland had already been used in fitting up a handsome showroom andgarage on the main street of Tillbury; and some other heavy expenses hadfallen upon Mr. Sherwood, for which he would, however, be recompensed bythe sale of the first few cars. 

If Ravell Bulson injured Mr. Sherwood's business reputation by his wildcharges, or if the company Mr. Sherwood expected to represent, heard ofthe trouble, much harm might be done. The automobile manufacturingcompany might even refuse to allow their cars to be handled by Mr. Sherwood--which was quite within their rights, according to the contractwhich had been signed between them. 

Enough of this, however. Nan and Bess Harley were established with GraceMason, in Chicago, expecting to have a fine time. Nan tried to put allhome troubles off her mind. 

The girls occupied a beautiful large suite together on the third floor, with a bath all their own, and a maid to wait upon them. Grace was usedto this; but she was a very simple-minded girl, and the presence of atidy, be-aproned and be-capped maid not much older than herself, did notparticularly impress Grace one way or another. 

"I feel like a queen, " Bess confessed, luxuriously. "I can say: 'Do thusand so, ' and 'tis done. I might say: 'Off with his head!' if one of mysubjects displeased me, and he would be guillotined before you couldwink an eye. "

"How horrid!" said Grace, the shy. "I never could feel that way. "

"It would never do for Elizabeth to be a grand vizer, or sultan, orsatrap, " Nan remarked laughingly. 

"Who wants to be a 'shawl-strap'? Not I!" cried Bess, gaily. "I am QueenBess, monarch of all I survey. Katie!"--the neat little maid had justentered the room--"will you hand me the book I was reading in the otherroom? I'm too weak to rise. Oh, thanks!"

Grace laughed; but Nan looked a little grave as Katie disappeared again. 

"Don't, honey, " Nan said to her thoughtless chum. "It isn't _nice_. Thepoor girl has necessary work enough without your making up thing's forher to do. She is on her feet from morning till night. She tells me thather ankles swell dreadfully sometimes, and that is awful for a young girllike her. "

"Why, Nan!" Grace cried, "how did you know?"

"Katie told me, " repeated Nan. 

"But--but she never told me, " expostulated their hostess. 

"I don't suppose you ever saw her crying, as I did, while she was settingthe dinner table. It was last evening. She had been on her feet more thanusual yesterday. The doctor tells her that her arches are breaking down;but she cannot afford to have arch supports made at present, because hermother needs all the money Katie can earn. "

"Mercy!" gasped Bess. "Did you ever see such a girl as Nan? She alreadyknows all the private history of that girl. "

"No, I do not, " said Nan, with some indignation. "I never asked her athing. She just told me. Lots of girls who have to go out to service aretroubled with their arches breaking down. Especially when the floors arepolished wood with nothing but rugs laid down. Bare floors may be verysanitary; but they are hard on the feet. "

"There you go!" sighed Bess, "with a lot of erudite stuff that we don'tunderstand. I wish you wouldn't. "

"I know why Katie, and other people as well, love to tell Nan all theirtroubles, " said Grace, softly. "Because she is sympathetic. I am afraid_I_ ought to have known about poor Katie's feet. "

The very next day the little serving maid was sent by Mrs. Mason to theorthopedic shoe shop to be measured for her arch supports and shoes. Butit was Nan whom poor Katie caught alone in a dark corner of the hall whenshe came back, and humbly kissed. 

"An' bless yer swate heart, Miss, for 'twas yer kind thought stirred upMiss Grace to tell the mistress. Bless yer swate heart again, I say!"

Nan kept this to herself, of course; but it pleased her very much thatthe word she had dropped had had such a splendid result. Grace, she knew, was a lovable girl and never exacting with the servants; and Mrs. Masonwas good to her people, too. But it was a rather perfunctory sort ofgoodness, spurred by little real knowledge of their individual needs. 

After this, it was quite noticeable that Grace was even more considerateof Katie and the other maids. Nan Sherwood had had little experience withdomestic servants; but the appreciation of _noblesse oblige_ was strongwithin her soul. 

The girls' time, both day and evening, was fully occupied. The Masons'was a large household, and there seemed to be always company. It wasalmost like living in a hotel, only above and over all the freedom andgaiety of the life there, was the impression that it was a real _home_, and that the Mason family lived a very intimate existence, after all. 

Walter and his father were close chums. Grace and her mother were liketwo very loving sisters. The smaller children were still with theirgoverness and nurse most of the time. But there were times in every daywhen the whole family was together in private, with the rest of thehousehold shut out. 

There was always something going on for the young folk. The day'sactivities were usually planned at the general breakfast table. One dayNan had two hours of the forenoon on her hands, while her chum and Gracewent shopping with Mrs. Mason. Nan did not like shopping--much. 

"Not unless I can have lots of money in my pocket-book, and beextravagant, " she said, laughing. 

"You never were extravagant in your life!" declared Bess, inrefutation of this. 

However, Nan was left alone and Walter found it out. He had brought hisblack horse down from Freeling with him. He sent for this and the cutter, and insisted that Nan go with him through the park. 

Nan went, and would have had a delightful time had it not been for asingle incident. As they turned back, suddenly there met them a veryhandsome, heavy, family sleigh, the pair of horses jingling theirharness-bells proudly, and with tossing plumes and uniformed coachmanand footman. 

"Goodness!" gasped Nan, as she saw a girl in furs lean far out of thegreat sleigh and wave her muff to Walter. 

It was Linda Riggs. Linda quite ignored Nan's presence behind theblack horse. 

CHAPTER XVII

"A MOVING SCENE"

Nan did not refuse to go shopping every time her school friends went. The big Chicago stores appealed to her just as much as to any countrygirl who ever fell under their charm. In the Windy City thedepartment stores--that mammoth of modern commerce--is developed tothe highest degree. 

It was like wandering through an Alladin's Palace for Nan to walk aboutWilson-Meadows, Galsig-Wheelwrights, or any of the other big stores. Andit was because she was so much interested in what she saw, that shewandered one day away from her friends and found herself in the jewelrydepartment, where the French novelties loaded the trays and weredisplayed in the cases. 

Nan forgot her friends--and the flight of time. It was not alone thepretty things displayed that interested her, but the wonderfully dressedwomen who paraded through the aisles of the store. 

She found herself beside a beautifully dressed woman, in a loose, full-flowing fur garment, with fur hat to match, who, it seemed to Nan, was quite the most fashionable person she had ever beheld. The woman hada touch of rouge upon her otherwise pale cheeks; her eyebrows weresuspiciously penciled; her lips were slightly ruddy. Nevertheless, shewas very demure and very much the lady in appearance. 

She was idly turning over lavalli�res on a tray--holding them up forinspection, and letting the pretty chains run through her fingers to dropinto the tray again, like sparkling water. 

"I don't think I care for any of these, don't you know?" she drawled, butvery pleasantly. "I'm sorry--really. "

She turned away from the counter. Nan was close by and had been secretlywatching the pretty woman more than she had the lavalli�res. Theclerk--rather an attractive girl with curly, black hair and very pinkcheeks; quite an excitable young thing--suddenly leaned over the counterand whispered:

"Oh, madam! Pray! The special lavalli�re I showed you is not here. "

"What do you say, child?" demanded the woman, haughtily. "Do you missanything?"

"The special lavalli�re I showed you, madam, " gasped the girl. "Forgiveme--_do_! But I am responsible for all I take out of the case!"

"It is a mistake, " said the woman, coldly. "I haven't the thing--surely. "

"It is not here!" wailed the clerk, still in a low key, but fingeringmadly among the chains upon the tray. "Oh, ma'am! it will cost metwenty dollars!"

The woman turned slowly and her eyes--placid blue before--now shone withan angry light. Her gaze sought the counter--then the excitedclerk--lastly, Nan!

"I haven't your lavalli�re, " she said, and although her voice was stern, it was low. "I haven't your lavalli�re. How about this girl, here?" andshe indicated Nan, with an air of superb indifference. 

"Oh, madam!" gasped the clerk. 

"Don't! don't!" begged Nan. "Oh! you _know_ I haven't it!"

At that moment Nan felt a severe grasp upon her arm. She could not haverun had she so desired. Her heart grew cold; her face flushed to fieryred. All neighboring eyes were turned on her. 

In department stores like this the management finds it very unwise tomake any disturbance over a case of loss or robbery. The store detectiveheld on to Nan's arm; but he waited for developments. 

"What is this all about, Miss Merwin?" he demanded of the clerk. 

"I am charged with stealing a twenty-dollar lavalli�re!" exclaimedthe customer. 

"Oh, impossible, madam!" said the detective, evidently recognizing her. 

"Then this girl, who was nearest, may have it, " said madam, sharply. 

Nan was very much frightened; yet her sense of honesty came to herrescue. She cried:

"Why should I be accused? I am innocent--I assure you, I would not dosuch a thing. Why! I have more than twenty dollars in my purse right now. I will show you. Why should I steal what I can buy?"

To Nan Sherwood this question seemed unanswerable. But the storedetective scarcely noticed. He looked at the lovely woman and asked:

"Madam is _sure_ this girl took the lavalli�re?"

"Oh, mercy, no! I would not accuse anybody of such a thing, " respondedthe woman, in her low voice. 

"But we know who you are, madam, we do not know this girl, " said thedetective, doubtfully. "You are a customer whom the store is glad toserve. This girl is quite unknown to us. I have no doubt but she isguilty--as you say. "

He shook the troubled Nan by the arm. The girl was trying to controlherself--to keep from breaking down and crying. Somehow, she felt that_that_ would not help her in the least. 

Without warning, a low voice spoke at Nan's side: "I know this girl. Ofwhat is she accused?"

Only a few beside the detective and Nan heard the words. 

"Of stealing something from the counter, " said the man. 

"I should not be surprised. " The girl who had spoken, still whispered tothe detective. "I know who she is. Her father is already in trouble on asimilar charge. This girl tried to take a hand-bag of mine once. I never_did_ think she was any better than she should be. "

It was Linda Riggs. She stood with flushed face, looking at Nan, andalthough but few customers heard what she said, the latter felt as thoughshe should sink through the floor. 

"Ah-ha!" exclaimed the pompous detective, holding Nan's arm with atighter grip. "You'll come with me to the superintendent's office to besearched. "

Nothing but the vindictive expression of Linda's face kept Nan Sherwoodfrom bursting into tears. She was both hurt and frightened by thissituation. And to have her father's name mentioned in such anaffair--perhaps printed in the papers! This thought terrified her as muchas the possibility that she, herself, might be put in jail. 

Rather unsophisticated about police proceedings was Nan, and she saw jailyawning for her just beyond the superintendent's office, whether the lostlavalli�re was found in her possession or not. 

But instantly, before the detective could remove the trembling girl fromthe spot, or many curious people gather to stare and comment upon theincident, the wonderfully dressed woman said to the detective in hercareless drawl:

"Wait! Quite dramatic, I must say. So this other girl steps in andaccuses our young heroine--without being asked even? I would doubt suchtestimony seriously, were I _you_, sir. "

"But, madam!" exclaimed the man. 

"_What_ a situation--for the film!" pursued the woman, raising herlorgnette to look first at Nan and then at Linda Riggs. The latter wasflushing and paling by turns--fearful at what she had done to herschoolmate, yet glad she had done it, too!

As the customer wheeled slowly in her stately way to view the railroadmagnate's daughter, the clerk uttered a stifled cry, and on the heels ofit the detective dropped Nan's arm to hop around the woman in greatexcitement. 

"Wait, madam! wait, madam! wait!" he reiterated. "It is here--it ishere!"

"What is the matter with you, pray?" asked the woman, curiously. "Haveyou taken leave of your senses? Why don't you stand still?"

"The lavalli�re!" gasped the man and, reaching suddenly, he plucked thedangling chain from an entangling frog on her fur garment. "Here it is, madam!" he cried, with immense satisfaction. 

"Now, fancy!" drawled the woman. 

Linda slipped out of sight behind some other people. Nan felt faint--justas though she would drop. The clerk and the detective were lavish intheir apologies to Nan. As for the woman whose garment had been the causeof all the trouble, she merely laughed. 

"Fancy!" she said, in her low, pleasant drawl. "Just fancy! had I notchanced to be known to you, and a customer of the store, I might havebeen marched up to the superintendent's office myself. It really _is_ awonderfully good situation for a film--a real moving picture scene madeto order. "

CHAPTER XVIII

THE RUNAWAYS AGAIN

Nan was ordinarily brave enough. But the disgrace of this scene--in whichthe fashionably attired woman merely saw the dramatic possibilities--wellnigh broke the girl's spirit. If she moved from this place she feared thewhispering people would follow her; if she remained, they would remain togape and wonder. 

The troubled girl glanced hurriedly around. Was there no escape? Supposeher chum and Mrs. Mason and Grace should appear, searching for her?

The floodgates of her tears were all but raised when the placid woman whohad caused all the trouble turned suddenly to her. 

"I _do_ owe an apology to you, my dear, " she said. "I see you feel verybadly about it. Don't. It really is not worth thinking of. You evidentlyhave a spiteful enemy in that girl who has run away. But, of course, mydear, such unfounded accusations have no weight in the minds of sensiblepeople. " She seemed quite to have forgotten that hers was the firstaccusation. 

She glanced about disdainfully upon the group of whispering women andgirls. Some of them quite evidently recognized her. How could they helpit, when her features were so frequently pictured on the screen? But Nanhad not identified this woman with the great actress-director, whosefilms were being talked of from ocean to ocean. 

"Come, my dear, " she said. "We can find a quieter place to talk, I know. And I _do_ wish to know you better. "

Whether it were unwise or not, Nan Sherwood found it impossible torefuse the request of so beautiful a woman. Nan immediately fell underthe charm of her beauty and her voice. She went with her dumbly andforgot the unpleasant people who stood about and stared. The lovelywoman's light hand upon her arm, too, took away the memory of thedetective's stern grasp. 

The actress led her to the nearest elevator where a coin slipped intothe palm of the elevator man caused him to shoot them up to anotherfloor without delay. In this way all the curious ones lost trace of Nanand her new friend. In a few moments they were sitting in one of thetea-rooms where a white-aproned maid served them with tea and sweets atMadam's command. 

"That is what you need, my dear, " said Nan's host. "Our unfailingnerve-reviver and satisfier--tea. What would our sex do without it? Andhow do we manage to keep our complexions as we do, and still imbibehogsheads of tea?"

She laughed and pinched Nan's cheek. "You have a splendid complexionyourself, child. And there's quite some film-charm in your features, Ican see. Of course, you have never posed?"

"For moving pictures?" gasped Nan, at last waking up to what the womanmeant. "Oh, no, indeed!"

"You are not like most other young girls, then?" said the woman. "Youhaven't the craze to act in the silent drama?"

"I never thought of such a thing, " Nan innocently replied. "Filmcompanies do not hire girls of my age, do they?"

"Not unless they are wonderfully well adapted for the work, " agreed theactress. "But I am approached every week--I was going to say, everyday--by girls no older than you, who think they have genius for thefilm-stage. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Nan, beginning at last to take interest in somethingbesides her recent unpleasant experience. "Do _you_ make movingpictures?"

The actress raised her eyes and clasped her hands, invoking invisiblespirits to hear. "At last! a girl who is not tainted by the universalcraze for the movies--and who does not know _me_! There are still worldsfor me to conquer, " murmured the woman. "Yes, my child, " she added, tothe rather abashed Nan, "I am a maker of films. "

"You--you must excuse me, " Nan hastened to say. "I expect I ought toknow all about you; but I lived quite a long time in the Michiganwoods, and then, lately, I have been at boarding school, and we have nomovies there. "

"Your excuses are accepted, my dear, " the actress-director said demurely. "It is refreshing, I assure you, to meet a girl like you. "

"I--I suppose you see so many, " Nan said eagerly. "Those looking forpositions in your company, I mean. You do not remember them all?"

"Oh, mercy, no, my dear!" drawled the woman. "I see hundreds. "

"Two girls I know of have recently come to Chicago looking for positionswith moving picture concerns, " explained Nan, earnestly. "They arecountry girls, and their folks want them to come home. "

"Runaways?"

"Yes, ma'am. They have run away and their folks are dreadfully worried. "

"I assure you, " said the moving picture director, smiling, "theyhave not been engaged at my studio. New people must furnishreferences--especially if they chance to be under age. Two girls from thecountry, you say, my dear? How is it they have come to think they can actfor the screen?" and she laughed lightly again. 

Nan, sipping her tea and becoming more used to her surroundings and moreconfidential, told her new acquaintance all about Sallie Morton andCelia Snubbins. 

"Dear, dear, " the woman observed at last. "How can girls be sofoolish? And the city is no place for them, alone, under anycircumstances. If they should come to me I will communicate with theirparents. I believe I should know them, my dear--two girls together, and both from the country?"

"Oh! if you only would help them, " cried Nan. "I am sure such a kind actwould be repaid. "

The woman laughed. "I see you have faith in all the old fashionedvirtues, " she said. "Dear me, girl! I am glad I met you. Tell me how Imay communicate with the parents of these missing girls?"

Nan did this; but she appreciated deeply the fact that the actressrefrained from asking her any personal questions. After what Linda Riggshad said at the jewelry counter, Nan shrank from telling her name orwhere she lived to anybody who had heard her enemy. 

She parted from the moving picture director with great friendliness, however. As the latter kissed Nan she slipped a tiny engraved card intothe girl's hand. 

"Some time, when you have nothing better to do, my dear, come to seeme, " she said. It was not until Nan was by herself again that shelearned from the card that she had been the guest of a very famousactress of the legitimate stage who had, as well, become notable as amaker of moving pictures. 

The girl's heart was too sore at first, when she met her friends asagreed in an entirely different part of the great store, to say anythingabout her adventure. But that night, when she and Bess were alone, Nanshowed her chum the famous actress' card, and told her how the movingpicture director was likewise on the lookout for the two runaway girls. 

"Splendid!" cried Bess. "Keep on and we'll have half the people inChicago watching out for Sallie and Celia. But Nan! You do have the mostmarvelous way of meeting the most interesting people. Think of it!Knowing that very famous actress. How did you do it, Nan?"

"Oh! something happened that caused us to speak, " Nan said lightly. Butshe winced at the thought of the unhappy nature of that incident. She wasglad that Bess Harley was too sleepy to probe any deeper into the matter. 

CHAPTER XIX

HOW THEY LOOKED ON THE SCREEN

Nan did not forget Inez, the flower-girl, nor the fact that therunaways--Sallie Morton and Celia Snubbins--might still be traced throughMother Beasley's cheap lodging house. 

Both Walter and Grace Mason had been interested, as well as amused, inthe chum's account of their first adventure in Chicago. The brother andsister who lived so far away from the squalor of Mother Beasley's and whoknew nothing of the toil and shifts of the flower-seller's existence, were deeply moved by the recital of what Nan and Bess had observed. 

"That poor little thing!" Grace said. "On the street in all weathers tosell posies--and for a drunken woman. Isn't it awful? Something should bedone about it. I'll tell father. "

"And he'd report the case to the Society, " said her brother, promptly. "Father believes all charity should be done through organizations. 'Organized effort' is his hobby, " added Walter, ruefully. "He says I lackproper appreciation of its value. "

"But if he told the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Childrenabout Inez, they would take her and put her in some institution, "objected Nan. 

"And put a uniform on her like a prisoner, " cried Bess. "And make herobey rules like--like us boarding school girls. Oh, dear!"

The others laughed at that. 

"Oh, you girls!" said Walter. "To hear you talk, one would think you werehounded like slaves at Lakeview Hall. You should have such a strictteacher as my tutor, for instance. He's the fellow for driving one. Hesays he'll have me ready for college in two years; but if he does, I knowI shall feel as stuffed as a Strasburg goose. "

"This learning so much that one will be glad to forget when one growsup, " sighed Bess, "is an awful waste of time. "

"Why, Bess!" cried Grace Mason, "don't you ever expect to read or writeor spell or cipher when you grow up?"

"No more than I can help, " declared the reckless Elizabeth. 

"And yet you've always talked about our going to college together, " saidNan, laughing at her chum. 

"But college girls never have to use what they learn--except fudge-makingand dancing, and--and--well, the things that aren't supposed to be in thecurriculum, " declared Bess. 

"Treason! treason!" said Nan. "How dare you, Elizabeth? Pray what _do_girls go through college for?"

"To fit themselves for the marriage state, " declared Bess. "My motherwent to college and she says that every girl in her graduating class wasmarried inside of five years--even the homely ones. You see, the homelyones make such perfectly splendid professors' wives. There's even achance for Procrastination Boggs, you see. "

"You ridiculous girl!" Nan said. "Come on! Who's going down town with me?I can find my way around now, for I have studied a map of Chicago and Ican go by the most direct route to Mother Beasley's. "

"And find that cunning little Inez, too?" asked Grace. 

"Yes. If I want to. But to-day I want to go to see if Sallie and Celiawent back to Mrs. Beasley's. I heard from Sallie's mother by thismorning's post, and the poor woman is dreadfully worked up about therunaways. Mrs. Morton had a bad dream about Sallie, and the poor womanbelieves in dreams. "

"She does!" exclaimed Grace. "I suppose she looks at a dream book everymorning to see what each dream means. How funny!"

"Goodness!" cried Bess. "Come to think of it, I had the strangest dreamlast night. I dreamed that I saw myself in the looking-glass and myreflection stepped right out and began to talk to me. We sat down andtalked. It was so funny--just as though I were twins. "

"What an imagination!" exclaimed Walter. "You don't lack anything in thatparticular, for sure. "

"Well, " declared Bess, "I want to know what it means. "

"I can make a pretty close guess, " said Nan, shrewdly. 

"'_Vell, vas ist_?' as our good Frau Deuseldorf says when she getsimpatient with our slowness in acquiring her beloved German. "

"It means, " declared Nan, "that a combination of French pancake withpeach marmalade, on top of chicken salad and mayonnaise, is not conduciveto dreamless slumber. If you dreamt you met yourself on Grand Avenueparading at the head of a procession of Elizabeth Harleys, after such adinner as you ate last night, I shouldn't be surprised. "

"Carping critic!" exclaimed Bess, pouting. "_Do_ let me eat what I likewhile I'm here. When we get back to Lakeview Hall you know Mrs. Cupp willwant to put us all on half rations to counteract our holiday eating. Iheard her bemoaning the fact to Dr. Beulah that we would come back withour stomachs so full that we would be unable to study for a fortnight. "

"My! she is a Tartar, isn't she?" was Walter's comment. 

"Oh, you don't know what we girls have to go through with at theHall--what trials and privations, " said his sister, feelingly. 

"I can see it's making you thin, Sis, " scoffed the boy. "And how aboutall those midnight suppers, and candy sprees, and the like?"

"Mercy!" exclaimed Bess. "If it were not for those extras we should allstarve to death. There! we've missed that jitney. We'll have to waitfor another. "

The girls and their escort got safely to the shabby street in whichMother Beasley kept her eating and lodging house; but they obtained nonew information regarding the runaway girls who had spent their firstnight in Chicago with the poor, but good-hearted widow. 

Nor did they find Inez in her accustomed haunts near the railroadstation; and it was too late that day to hunt the little flower-seller'slodging, for Inez lived in an entirely different part of the town. 

"Rather a fruitless chase, " Walter said, as they walked from the car onwhich they had returned. "What are you going to do about those runawaygirls, now?"

"I don't know--oh! stop a moment!" Nan suddenly cried. "What's thatover there?"

"A picture palace; goodness knows they're common enough, " said Bess. 

"But see what the sign says. Look, girls! Look, Walter!" and Nanexcitedly pointed out the sheet hung above the arched entrance of theplayhouse. "'A Rural Beauty'!" she cried. "That's the very picture thosetwo girls took part in. It's been released. "

"We must see it, " Bess cried. "I'm just crazy to see how Sallie and Celialook on the screen. "

"Why! you never saw them. Do you think they will be labeled?"scoffed Walter. 

"Oh, we saw a photograph of Sallie; and if Celia looks anything likeMr. Si Snubbins, we can't mistake her, " laughed Bess. "Let's run overand go in. "

"No, " Grace objected. "Mother never lets us go to a picture show withoutasking her permission first. "

"No? Not even when Walter is with you?" asked Bess. 

"No. She wishes to know just what kind of picture I am going to see. Shebelongs to a club that tries to make the picture-play people in thisneighborhood show only nice films. She says they're not all to be trustedto do so. "

"I guess this 'Rural Beauty' is a good enough picture, " Nan said; "but ofcourse we'll ask your mother's permission before we go in. "

"There it is, " groaned Bess. "Got to ask permission to breathe, I expect, pretty soon. "

But she was glad, afterward, that they did ask Mrs. Mason. That carefullady telephoned the committee of her club having the censorship ofpicture plays in charge, and obtained its report upon "A Rural Beauty. "Then she sent Walter to the playhouse to buy a block of seats for thatevening, and over the telephone a dozen other boys and girls--friends ofGrace and Walter--were invited to join the party. 

They had a fine time, although the chums from Tillbury had not anopportunity of meeting all of the invited guests before the show. 

"But they are all going home with us for supper--just like a grown-uptheatre party, " confided Grace to Nan and Bess. 

"Pearl Graves telephoned that she would be a little late and would haveto bring her cousin with her. Mother told her to come along, cousin andall, of course. "

Nan and Bess, with a couple of friends of the Masons' whom they hadalready met, sat in the front row of the block of seats reserved for theparty, and did not see the others when they entered the darkened house. 

Several short reels were run off before the first scene of "A RuralBeauty" was shown. It was a very amusing picture, being full of countrytypes and characters, with a sweet little love story that pleased thegirls, and some quite adventurous happenings that made a hit with Walter, as he admitted. 

Sallie Morton and Celia Snubbins were in the picture and the chums easilypicked the runaways out on the screen. Sallie was a pretty girl, despitethe fault her father had pointed out--that she was long-limbed. Nan andBess knew Celia Snubbins because she _did_ look like her father. 

The two girls had been used in the comedy scene of "A Rural Beauty" ascontrasts to the leading lady in the play, who was made up moststrikingly as the beautiful milkmaid who captured the honest young farmerin the end. 

There was a buzz of excitement among the Masons and those of theirfriends who had heard about the runaways over the appearance of Sallieand Celia when they came on the screen. As the party reached the lobbyafter the end of the last reel, Walter expressed his opinion emphaticallyregarding the runaway girls. 

"I declare! I think those two girls awfully foolish to run away fromhome if they couldn't do anything more in a picture than they did inthat one. "

Nan was about to make some rejoinder, for Walter was walking beside her, when somebody said, back of them:

"Why, you must know those girls ahead. They go to Lakeview Hall withGracie Mason. "

"Goodness! they are not staying with Grace and Walter, are they?"demanded a shrill and well remembered voice. "Why, I saw Nan Sherwood introuble in one of the big stores the other day, for taking something fromone of the counters. "

Nan turned, horrified. The speaker was Linda Riggs. 

CHAPTER XX

NAN ON THE HEIGHTS

Mrs. Mason had not chaperoned the party of girls and boys to the motionpicture show; but Miss Hagford, the English governess, was with them. Including the young hosts and Nan and Bess, there was almost a score inthe party, and they made quite a bustling crowd in the lobby as they cameout, adjusting their outer garments against the night air. 

Walter and Nan were in the lead and when Linda Riggs' venomous tonguespat out the unkind words last repeated, few of the party heard her. Pearl Graves, her cousin, was beside the purse-proud girl who had beenNan's bitter enemy since the day they had first met. Pearl was adifferent kind of girl entirely from Linda; in fact, she did not know hercousin very well, for Linda did not reside in Chicago. At her cousin'sharsh exclamation Pearl cried:

"Hush, Linda! how can you say such things? That can not possibly betrue. "

"'Tis, too! And Nan won't dare deny it, " whispered Linda. "She knows whather father is, too! Mr. And Mrs. Mason can't have heard about Nan'sfather being in trouble for taking a man's watch and money in a sleepingcar. Oh! _I_ know all about it. "

Walter Mason's ears were sharp enough; but Linda spoke so hurriedly, andthe boy was so amazed, that the cruel girl got thus far in her wickedspeech before he turned and vehemently stopped her. 

"What do you mean by telling such a story as that about Nan?" demandedthe boy, hoarsely. "And about her father, too? You are just the meanestgirl I ever saw, Linda Riggs, and I'm sorry you're in this party. I wishyou were a boy--I'd teach you one good lesson--I would!"

They stood just at the entrance to the theatre, where the electric lightswere brightest. A few flakes of snow were falling, like glisteningparticles of tinsel. There were not many patrons entering the movingpicture house at this late hour, but the remainder of the Masons' guestscrowded forward to hear and see what was going on. 

Nan was white-faced, but dry-eyed. Walter stood partly in front of her asthough he were physically defending her, and held one of her hands whilehis other hand was tightly clenched, and his face ablaze withindignation. 

"Oh, Nan! What is the matter?" cried Bess Harley, running to Nan's sideand taking her other hand. 

"What has happened?" asked Grace Mason. "What is it, Walter?"

"My goodness!" broke in Bess, before there could be any otherexplanation. "Here's that horrid Linda Riggs. What brought _her_ here, I'd like to know?"

"I've as much right here as you have, Harley, " cried Linda. "I don'thave to worm myself into society that is above me, as you and yourprecious friend do. My father is as rich as any girl's father here, I'dhave you know. "

"Oh, hush, Linda!" murmured Pearl Graves, very much ashamed of hercousin. 

"Walter! Grace! What does this mean?" demanded the governess, hurryingforward. "Don't make a scene here, I beg. Have no quarreling. "

But Walter was too greatly enraged to be easily amenable to the mildlady's advice. 

"What do you think of this, Miss Hagford?" he cried excitedly. "NanSherwood has been at our house since the first day she and Bess arrivedin Chicago; yet Linda Riggs says she saw Nan taking something in astore here. "

"Hush, Walter, hush!" begged Miss Hagford. "People will hear you. "

"Well, people heard her!" declared the angry youth. 

"We know Linda Riggs for what she is, " Bess put in. "But these other boysand girls don't. Grace will tell you that Linda is the very meanest girlat Lakeview Hall. "

"Oh! I couldn't say _that_, Bess, " gasped timid Grace. "She is my guestfor the evening!"

"Well, I'll say it for you, " burst out her brother. "Somebody should tellthe truth about her. "

"So they should, " chimed in Bess. "She's a mean, spiteful thing!"

"Stop! stop, all of you!" commanded the governess, sternly. "Why, this isdisgraceful. "

"I guess it is--I guess it is, " said Linda, bitterly. "But this is thesort of treatment I might expect from anybody so much under theinfluence of Sherwood and Harley, as Grace and Walter are. I tell you Isaw Nan Sherwood being held by a detective in Wilson-Meadows store, because they said she had taken some jewelry from the counter. And shecannot deny it!"

She said this with such positiveness, and was so much in earnest, thatmost of her hearers could not fail to be impressed. They stared atwhite-faced Nan to see if she had not something to say in her owndefense. It seemed preposterous for Linda to repeat her charge soemphatically without some foundation for it. 

"It isn't so!" cried Bess, first to gain her breath. "You know, Grace, Nan hasn't been shopping unless you and I were both with her. _That's_made up out of whole cloth!"

"You were not with her that day, Miss Smartie, " cried the revengefulLinda. "And you see--she doesn't deny it. "

"Of course she denies it!" Bess responded. "Do say something, Nan! Don'tlet that girl talk about you in this way. "

Then Nan did open her lips--and what she said certainly amazed most ofher hearers. "I was charged with taking a lavalli�re from the counter. But it was found hanging from a lady's coat--"

"Where _you_ hung it, when you saw you were caught!" interposed Linda. 

"It was dreadful, " Nan went on, brokenly. "I was so frightened andashamed that I did not tell anybody about it. "

"Nan!" cried Bess. "It's never _true_? You weren't arrested?"

"I--I should have been had the lavalli�re not been found, " her chumconfessed. "Linda saw me and she told the man I was dishonest. I--I wasso troubled by it all that I didn't tell anybody. It was the day I metthat lady whose card I showed you, Bess. _She_ was the lady whose coatcaught up the chain. She was very kind to me. "

"And Linda Riggs tried to make it worse for you, did she?" put in theindignant Walter. 

"Hush, Walter!" commanded Miss Hagford. "We must have no more of thishere. It is disgraceful. We will go directly home and your mother mustknow all the particulars. I don't know what she will say--I really donot, " the troubled governess added. 

"Oh, you can all go, " snarled Linda. "You're welcome to the company ofthat Nan Sherwood. Pearl and I can find our way to her house. We'll leaveyou right now. "

"Pearl is not going home, Linda, " said her cousin. "You're not going tospoil all _my_ fun for your own pleasure, I can tell you!"

"Stop, my dear, " Miss Hagford said sternly. "Don't wrangle anymore. Come! March! Walter, lead the way with your sister. Let usdelay no longer. "

Walter felt inclined to be obstinate and stick to Nan; but the latterslipped back with Bess, and they two walked arm in arm. Bess was franklysobbing. They were tears of rage. 

"Oh, dear! I wish I hadn't been brought up so respectably!" she gasped. "I wish I were like Inez. I'd slap that Linda Riggs' face and tear herhair out in big handfuls!"

Nan could not even smile at her chum's tearful emphasis. She felt verymiserable indeed. She thought the English governess looked at hersuspiciously. Some of the girls and boys must surely be impressed by whatLinda had said. Had it been practical, Nan would have slipped out of thecrowd and run away. 

It was a rather silent party that passed through the snowy streets to theMason house. Some of the girls and their escorts whispered together butthis only added to the embarrassment of all concerned. 

They reached the house at last. It was brightly lighted, for Mrs. Masonhad promised to entertain royally. Her appearance at the door when it wasopened, was quite in the nature of a surprise, however. She ran forward, her lovely gown trailing behind her and both hands outstretched. 

"Where is our Nan?" she cried gaily. "Nan Sherwood! come here to me atonce. You delightfully brave girl! And never to have talked about it!"

By this time she had the embarrassed Nan within the circle of her arms, and was smiling charmingly upon the others who trooped into the bigentrance hall. 

"What do you suppose she has done?" pursued Mrs. Mason, happily. "_You_must have known about it, Bess, for you were with Nan when she went toLakeview Hall last September. Why, girls! this Nan of ours, when thetrain stopped at a station, went alone to the rescue of a childthreatened by a rattlesnake, killed the snake, and rescued the child. What do you think of _that_?

"And now some of the passengers on that train, who saw the brave deed, have applied for and obtained a medal for bravery which has been broughthere by a committee, and is to be presented to our Nan. You dear girl!"cried Mrs. Mason, kissing her heartily. "_What are you crying for_?"

CHAPTER XXI

LONG TO BE REMEMBERED

There were lights and music and flowers all about the big receptionrooms, and a number of ladies and gentlemen were present besides thecommittee that had brought the medal for Nan. This was no time to retailsuch gossip as Linda Riggs had brought to her ears, and Miss Hagford, thegoverness, did not take her employer into her confidence at that time. 

Besides, Nan was suddenly made the heroine of the hour. 

If she had felt like running away as the party of young people returnedto the Mason house from the moving picture show, Nan was more thandesirous of escape now. The situation was doubly embarrassing after LindaRiggs' cruel accusation; for Nan had the feeling that some, at least, ofthese strange girls and boys must believe Linda's words true. 

Nan knew that, all the way from the picture show, Linda had been eagerlygiving her version of the difficulties that had risen between them sinceshe and Nan had first met on the train going to Lakeview Hall. Theseincidents are fully detailed in the previous volume of this series, "NanSherwood at Lakeview Hall, " as likewise is the incident which resulted inthe presentation to Nan of the medal for bravery. 

The ladies and gentlemen who had made it their business to obtain thisrecognition of a very courageous act, had traced the modest schoolgirl bythe aid of Mr. Carter, the conductor of the train on which Nan and Besshad been so recently snow-bound. 

The committee were very thoughtful. They saw that the girl was greatlyembarrassed, and the presentation speech was made very brief. But Mrs. Mason, with overflowing kindness, had arranged for a gala occasion. Along table was set in the big dining room, and the grown folk as well asthe young people gathered around the board. 

The ill-breeding of Linda Riggs, and her attempt to hurt Nan'sreputation in the eyes of the Masons' friends, were both smothered underthe general jollity and good feeling. Afterward Bess Harley declaredthat Linda must have fairly "stewed in her own venom. " Nobody paid anyattention to Linda, her own cousin scarcely speaking to her. Only oncedid the railroad magnate's daughter have an opportunity of showing herill-nature verbally. 

This was when the beautiful gold medal was being passed around thetable for the inspection of the company individually. It came in thecourse of events, to Linda. She took the medal carelessly and turned itover on her palm. 

"Oh, indeed--very pretty, I am sure. And, of course, useful, " shemurmured. "I have been told that most of these medals finally find theirway to the pawnshops. "

This speech made Mrs. Mason, who heard it, look curiously at Linda; thegirls about her were silent--indeed, nobody made any rejoinder. It causedMrs. Mason, however, to make some inquiries of Miss Hagford, and later ofGrace and Bess. 

The young folk danced for an hour to the music of a big disc machine. Thecommittee of presentation had bidden Nan good-bye, and thanked Mrs. Masonfor her hospitality. The party was breaking up. 

Mrs. Mason called the young people together when the wraps of those whowere leaving were already on. 

"One last word, boys and girls, before we separate, " the lady saidsoftly, her arm around Nan, by whom she seemed to stand quite by chance. "I hope you have all had a pleasant time. If we cultivate a happy spiritwe will always find pleasure wherever we go. Remember that. 

"Criticism and back-biting in any social gathering breed unhappiness anddiscontent. And we should all be particularly careful how we speak of orto one another. I understand that there was one incident to mar thisotherwise perfect evening. One girl was unkind enough to try to hurt thefeelings of another by a statement of unmistakable falsehood. "

Mrs. Mason's voice suddenly became stern. She was careful to avert hergaze from Linda Riggs' direction; but they all knew to whom she referred. 

"I speak of this, boys and girls, for a single reason, " the lady pursued. "For fear some of you may go home with any idea in your minds that theaccusation against the girl vilified or against her father is in anyparticular true, I want you to tell your parents that _I_ stand sponsorfor both our dear Nan and her father. Neither could be guilty of takingthat which was not his. 

"Now, good-night all! I hope you have had a lovely time. I am sure thisnight will long be remembered by our Nan!"

The boys, led by Walter, broke into a hearty cheer for Nan Sherwood. Every girl save Linda came to kiss her good-night. Her triumph seemedunalloyed. 

Yet the first mail in the morning brought a letter which dealt astaggering blow to Nan's Castle of Delight. Her mother wrote in haste tosay that Mr. Ravell Bulson had been to the automobile manufacturers withwhom Mr. Sherwood had a tentative contract, and had threatened to sue Mr. Sherwood if he did not return to him, Bulson, his lost watch and chainand roll of bankbills, amounting to several hundred dollars. 

The automobile manufacturers had served notice on Mr. Sherwood thatthey would delay the signing of any final contract until Bulson'saccusation was refuted. Almost all of Mrs. Sherwood's ready money, received through the Scotch courts, had been invested in the newautomobile showroom and garage. 

CHAPTER XXII

WHAT HAS BECOME OF INEZ?

Nan could not bring herself to speak of the sudden turn her father'sdifficulties had taken. She had long-since learned that family affairswere not to be discussed out of the family circle. 

It was bad enough, so she thought, to have Tillbury and Owneyville peoplediscussing the accusation of Ravell Bulson, without telling all thetrouble to her friends here in Chicago. Enough had been said on theprevious evening, Nan thought, about the matter. She hid this new phaseof it even from her chum. 

It was Bess who suggested their activities for this day. She wanted to dosomething for Inez, the flower-girl, in whom usually thoughtless Bess hadtaken a great interest. She had written to her mother at once about thepoor little street arab, and Mrs. Harley had sent by express a greatbundle of cast-off dresses outgrown by Bess' younger sisters, that easilycould be made to fit Inez. 

Mrs. Mason had shoes and stockings and hats that might help in thefitting out of the flower-seller; and she suggested that the child bebrought to the house that her own sewing maid might make such changes inthe garments as would be necessary to make them of use for Inez. 

"Not that the poor little thing is at all particular, I suppose, abouther clothes, " Bess remarked. "I don't imagine she ever wore a garmentthat really fitted her, or was made for her. Her shoes weren't mates--Isaw that the other day, didn't you, Nan?"

"I saw that they were broken, " Nan agreed, with a sigh. "Poorlittle thing!"

"And although fashion allows all kinds of hats this season, I am verysure that straw of hers had seen hard service for twelve months or more, "Bess added. 

Walter, hearing the number and street of Inez's lodging, insisted uponaccompanying the chums on their errand. Grace did not go. She franklyadmitted that such squalid places as Mother Beasley's were insufferable;and where Inez lived might be worse. 

"I'm just as sorry for such people as I can be and I'd like to help themall, " Grace said. "But it makes me actually ill to go near them. Howmother can delve as she does in the very slums--well, I can't do it!Walter is like mother; he doesn't mind. "

"I guess you're like your father, " said Bess. "He believes in puttingpoor people into jails, otherwise institutions, instead of giving them achance to make good where they are. And there aren't enough institutionsfor them all. I never supposed there were so many poor people in thiswhole world as we have seen in Chicago. 

"I used to just detest the word 'poor'--Nan'll tell you, " confessed Bess. "I guess being with Nan has kind of awakened me to 'our duties, ' as Mrs. Cupp would say, " and she laughed. 

"Oh!" cried Grace. "I'd do for them, if I could. But I don't even knowhow to talk to them. Sick babies make me feel so sorry I want to cry, andold women who smell of gin and want to sell iron-holders really scare me. Oh, dear! I guess I'm an awful coward!"

Nan laughed. "What are you going to do with that crisp dollar bill I sawyour father tuck into your hand at breakfast, Gracie?" she asked. 

"Oh, I don't know. I hadn't thought. Papa is always so thoughtful. Heknows I just _can't_ make ends meet on my fortnightly allowance. "

"But you don't absolutely need the dollar?"

"No-o. "

"Then give it to us. We'll spend it for something nice with which totreat those kid cousins that Inez told us about. "

"Good idea, " announced Walter. "It won't hurt you to give it tocharity, Sis. "

"All right, " sighed Grace. "If you really all say so. But there is such apretty tie down the street at Libby's. "

"And you've a million ties, more or less, " declared Bess. "Ofcourse we'll take it from her, Walter. Come on, now! I'm ready. "

Under Walter's piloting the chums reached the street and number Inez hadgiven Nan. It was a cheap and dirty tenement house. A woman told them togo up one flight and knock on the first door at the rear on that landing. 

They did this, Walter insisting upon keeping near the girls. A red-faced, bare-armed woman, blowsy and smelling strongly of soapsuds, came to thedoor and jerked it open. 

"Well?" she demanded, in a loud voice. 

Bess was immediately tongue-tied; so Nan asked:

"Is Inez at home?"

"And who be you that wants Inez--the little bothersome tyke that she is?"

"We are two of her friends, " Nan explained briefly. It was plain thatthe woman was not in a good temper, and Nan was quite sure she hadbeen drinking. 

"And plenty of fine friends she has, " broke out the woman, complainingly. "While I'm that poor and overrun with children, that I kin scarce getbite nor sup for 'em. And she'll go and spend her money on cakes andice-cream because it's my Mamie's birthday, instead of bringing it allhome, as I told her she should! The little tyke! I'll l'arn her!"

"I am sorry if Inez has disobeyed you, " said Nan, breaking in on whatseemed to promise to be an unending complaint. "Isn't she here--or canyou tell us where to find her?"

"I'll say 'no' to them two questions immediate!" exclaimed the woman, crossly. "I beat her as she deserved, and took away the money she hadsaved back to buy more flowers with; and I put her basket in the stove. "

"Oh!" gasped Bess. 

"And what is it to _you_, Miss?" demanded the woman, threateningly. 

"It was cruel to beat her, " declared Bess, bravely, but unwisely. 

"Is that so? is that so?" cried the virago, advancing on Bess with theevident purpose of using her broad, parboiled palm on the visitor, justas she would use it on one of her own children. "I'll l'arn ye not tocome here with your impudence!"

But Walter stepped in her way, covering Bess' frightened retreat. Walterwas a good-sized boy. 

"Hold on, " he said, good-naturedly. "We won't quarrel about it. Just tellus where the child is to be found. "

"I ain't seen her for four days and nights, that I haven't, " declaredthe woman. 

That was all there was to be got out of her. Nan and her friends wentaway, much troubled. They went again to Mother Beasley's to inquire, withlike result. When they told that kind but careworn woman what the child'saunt had said, she shook her head and spoke lugubriously. 

"She was probably drunk when she treated the child so. If she destroyedInez basket and used the money Inez always saved back to buy a new supplyof bouquets, she fair put the poor thing out o' business. "

"Oh, dear!" said Nan. "And we can't find her on the square. "

"Poor thing! I wisht she had come here for a bite--I do. I'd have trustedher for a meal of vittles. "

"I am sure you would, Mrs. Beasley, " Nan said, and she and her friendswent away very much worried over the disappearance of Inez, theflower-seller. 

CHAPTER XXIII

JUST TOO LATE

Walter Mason was not only an accommodating escort; he was very muchinterested in the search for Inez. Even Bess, who seldom admitted thenecessity for boys at any time in her scheme of life, admitted on thisoccasion that she was glad Walter was present. 

"That woman, poor little Inez's aunt, would have slapped my face, Iguess, " she admitted. "Isn't it mean of her to speak so of the child?And she had beaten her! I don't see how you had the courage to faceher, Walter. "

"I should give him my medal, " chuckled Nan. "Where now, Walter?"

"To see that officer, " declared the boy. 

The trio were again on the square where Inez had told Nan she almostalways sold her flowers. Walter came back in a few moments from hisinterview with the police officer. 

"Nothing doing, " he reported. "The man says he hasn't seen her forseveral days, and she was always here. "

"I suppose he knows whom we mean?" worried Bess. 

"Couldn't be any mistake about that, " Walter said. "He is afraidshe is sick. "

"I'm not, " Nan said promptly. "It is just as Mrs. Beasley says. If heraunt took Inez's basket and money away, she is out of business. She'slost her capital. I only hope she is not hungry, poor thing. "

"Dear, dear!" joined in Bess. "If she only knew how to come to us! Shemust know we'd help her. "

"She knows where we are staying, " Nan said. "Don't you remember I showedher Walter's card?"

"Then why hasn't she been to see us?" cried Bess. 

"I guess there are several reasons for that, " said sensible Nan. 

"Well! I'd like to know what they are, " cried her chum. "Surely, shecould find her way. "

"Oh, yes. Perhaps she didn't want to come. Perhaps she is too proud tobeg of us--just beg _money_, I mean. She is an independent little thing. "

"Oh, I know that, " admitted Bess. 

"But more than likely, " Nan pursued, "her reason for not trying to see uswas that she was afraid she would not be admitted to the house. "

"My gracious!" exclaimed Walter. "I never thought of that. "

"Just consider what would happen to a ragged and dirty little child whomounted your steps--even suppose she got that far, " Nan said. 

"What would happen to her?" demanded the wondering Bess, while Walterlooked thoughtful. 

"If she got into the street at all (there is always a policeman on fixedpost at the corner) one of the men at the house, the butler or thefootman, would drive her away. 

"You notice that beggars never come through that street. They are anuisance and wealthy people don't want to see people in rags abouttheir doorsteps. Even the most charitable people are that way, Iguess, " added Nan. 

"Your mother is so generous, Walter, that if beggars had free access tothe street and the house, she could never go out of an afternoon withouthaving to push her way through a throng of the poor and diseased to reachher carriage. "

"Oh, mercy!" cried Bess. 

"I guess that is so, " admitted Walter. "You've got mother sized upabout right. "

"I know it's so, " said Nan, quickly. "Do you know, I think your mother, Walter, would have made a good chatelaine of a castle in medieval times. Then charitably inclined ladies were besieged by the poor and miserableat their castle gates. The good lady gave them largess as she steppedinto her chariot. Their servants threw silver pennies at a distance sothat the unfortunates would scramble for the coins and leave a freepassage for miladi. 

"In those days, " pursued Nan, quite in earnest, "great plagues used todestroy a large portion of the population--sweeping through the castlesof the rich as well as the hovels of the poor. That was because thebeggars hung so upon the skirts of the rich. Wealth paid for itscruelty to poverty in those days, by suffering epidemics of diseasewith the poor. "

"Goodness, Nan! I never thought of that, " said Walter. "What agirl you are. "

"She reads everything, " said Bess, proudly; "even statistics. "

Nan laughed heartily. "I did not get _that_ out of a book of statistics, Bess. But that is why we have so many hospitals and institutions forhousing poor and ill people. Society has had to make these provisions forthe poor, to protect itself. "

"Now you sound like a regular socialist or anarchist or something, " saidBess, somewhat vaguely. 

"You'd have heard it all before, if you'd listened to some of Dr. Beulah's lectures in the classroom, " Nan said. "But we're far off thesubject of Inez. I wish we could find her; but there seems no way. "

"Oh, Nan! are you sure? Put on your thinking-cap, " begged Bess. 

"I have thought, " her chum replied. "I thought of trying to trace herthrough the people who sell flowers to her. I asked Mrs. Beasley, and shetold me that the flowers Inez sells come from the hotels and bigrestaurants where they have been on the tables over night. They aresorted and sold cheap to street pedlers like Inez. Hundreds of littleragamuffins buy and hawk these bouquets about the streets. The men whohandle the trade would not be likely to remember one little girl. 

"Besides, " added Nan, smiling sadly. "Inez is a bankrupt. She is out ofbusiness altogether. The few pennies she saved back every day--rain orshine, whether she went hungry, or was fed--was her capital; and that heraunt took away. I'm dreadfully worried about the poor thing, " concludedNan, with moist eyes. 

She felt so bad about it that she could not bring herself to join thematin�e party that had been arranged by Grace for that afternoon. Some ofthe girls were going to have a box at a musical comedy, with Miss Hagfordas chaperon. 

Nan did not plead a headache; indeed, she was not given to white lies. She wished to call on the lovely actress whom she had met the day of heradventure in the department store. She wanted to inquire if she had seenor heard anything of the runaways, Sallie and Celia. 

"I'd dearly love to go with you, " Bess observed. "Just think of yourknowing such a famous woman. You have all the luck, Nan Sherwood. "

"I'm not sure that it was _good_ fortune that brought me in contact withthe lady, " Nan returned ruefully. 

"Well! it turned out all right, at least, " said Bess. "And _my_ escapadesnever do. I never have any luck. If it rained soup and I was hungry, youknow I wouldn't have any spoon. "

Nan set forth before the other girls started for the theatre. She knewjust how to find the fashionable apartment hotel in which the actresslived, for she and her friends had passed it more than once in the car. 

At the desk the clerk telephoned up to the actress' apartment to see ifshe was in, and would receive Nan. The maid did not understand who Nanwas, and was doubtful; but the moment Madam came to the telephone herselfand heard Nan's name, she cried:

"Send her up--send her up! She is just the one I want to see. "

This greatly excited Nan, for she thought of Sallie and Celia. When shewas let out of the elevator on one of the upper floors, the apartmentdoor was open, and Madam herself was holding out a welcoming hand to her, excitedly saying:

"You dear girl! You are as welcome as the flowers in May. Come in and letme talk to you. How surprising, really! I had no thought of seeing you, and yet I desired to--so much. "

Nan was drawn gently into the large and beautiful reception room, whilethe actress was talking. She saw the woman's furs and hat throwncarelessly on a couch, and thought that she must have recently come in, even before Madam said:

"I have just come from an exhausting morning in the studio. Oh, dear!everybody seemed so stupid to-day. There are such days, youknow--everything goes wrong, and even the patient camera-man loseshis temper. 

"Yes, Marie, you may bring the tea tray. I am exhausted; nothing but teawill revive this fainting pilgrim. 

"And, my dear!" she added, turning to Nan again, "I have news foryou--news of those runaway girls. "

"Oh, Madam! Are Sallie and Celia found?" cried Nan. "I want so to makeMrs. Morton happy. "

"We-ell, " said the actress, with less enthusiasm. "I believe I can giveyou a trace of them. But, of course, I haven't them shut up in a cagewaiting for their parents to come for them, " and she laughed. 

"It really is an odd occurrence, my dear. At the time I was telling youthe other day that those girls could not be working with my company, thatis exactly what they were doing. "

"Oh!" cried Nan, again. 

"Yes, my dear. Just fancy! I only learned of it this very morning. Ofcourse, I give no attention to the extra people, save when they arebefore the camera. My assistant hires them and usually trains the 'mob'until I want them. 

"Now, fancy!" pursued the lovely woman, "there was a girl, named JennieAlbert, whom we had been using quite a good deal, and she fell ill. Soshe sent two new girls, and as Mr. Gray needed two extras that day, helet them stay without inquiring too closely into their personal affairs. 

"Oh, I blame Mr. Gray, and I told him so. I did not see the girls inquestion until the big scene we put on this morning. Then the companybefore the camera was too large; the scene was crowded. I began weedingout the awkward ones, as I always do. 

"Why, positively, my dear, there are some girls who do not know how towear a frock, and yet they wish to appear in _my_ films!

"These two girls of whom I speak I cut out at once. I told Mr. Gray neverto put them into costume again. Why! sticks and stones have more grace ofmovement and naturalness than those two poor creatures--positively!"cried the moving picture director, with emphasis. 

"Ah, well! I must not excite myself. This is my time for relaxation, and--a second cup of tea!"

Her light laughter jarred a bit on Nan Sherwood's troubled mind. 

"To think!" the lovely actress said, continuing, "that it never occurredto my mind that those two awkward misses might be your runaways until Iwas standing on one side watching the scene as they passed out. One wascrying. Of course I am sorry I had to order their discharge, but one mustsacrifice much for art, " sighed Madam. 

"One was crying, and I heard the other call her 'Celia. ' And then thecrying girl said: 'I can't help it, Sallie. I am discouraged'--orsomething like that. 

"Of course, you understand, my dear, my mind was engaged with far moreimportant matters. My sub-consciousness must have filmed the words, andespecially the girls' names. After the scene suited me, it suddenly cameback to me that those names were the _real_ names of the runaway girls. They had given Mr. Gray fictitious names, of course. When I sent him outto find them, he was just too late. The girls had left the premises. "

CHAPTER XXIV

OTHER PEOPLE'S WORRIES

Nan had written home quite fully about the presentation of the medal. Itwas the first her father and mother had known of the courage she haddisplayed so many weeks before in saving the life of the tiny girl atthe Junction. 

The fact that some of her fellow passengers had seen the act andconsidered it worthy of commemoration, of course, pleased Mr. And Mrs. Sherwood; but that Nan had been in peril herself on the occasion, naturally worried her mother. 

"I hope you will not go about seeking other adventures, my dear child, "wrote her mother, with gentle raillery. "What with your announcement ofthe presentation of the medal, and Mrs. Mason's enthusiastic letter, your father and I begin to believe that we have a kind of female knighterrant for a daughter. I am afraid we never shall get our little Nanback again. "

Nan did not really need any bubble of self-importance pricked in thisway. She was humbly thankful to have been able to save the little girlfrom the snake, and that the horrid creature had not harmed her, either. 

She had hidden the medal away, and would not display it or talk about it. The thought that her name and her exploit were on the Roll of Honor ofthe National Society actually made Nan's ears burn. 

She had other worries during these brief winter days--mostly otherpeople's worries, however. The absolute disappearance of Inez was one;another was the whereabouts of the two runaway girls, Sallie and Celia, who should by this time have discovered that they were not destined to begreat motion picture actresses. 

Nan had come away from the apartment of her friend, "the Moving PictureQueen, " as Walter called her, that afternoon, with the address of thestudio and a letter to Madam's assistant, Mr. Gray. The next morning, sheand Bess went to the studio to make inquiries about the runaway girls. They went alone because Grace had much to do before returning to school;and now their day of departure for Lakeview was close at hand. 

"And oh! how I hate to go back to those horrid studies again, "groaned Bess. 

Nan laughed. "What a ridiculous girl you are, Bess Harley, " she said. "You were just crazy to go to Lakeview in the first place. "

"Yes! wasn't I?" interposed Bess, gloomily. "But I didn't know Iwas crazy. "

When once the chums came to the motion picture studio they had no thoughtfor anything but their errand and the interesting things they saw onevery side. At a high grilled gate a man let them into the courtyardafter a glance at the outside of the letter Nan carried. 

"You'll find Mr. Gray inside somewhere, " said the gatekeeper. "You'llhave to look for him. "

Nan and Bess were timid, and they hesitated for some moments in the pavedyard, uncertain which of the several doors to enter. They saw a number ofgirls and men enter through the gate as they had, and watched the menhurry to one door, and the women and girls to another. 

"Lets follow those girls, " suggested Bess, as a chattering trio went intothe building. "We can't go far wrong, for the sheep and the goats seem tobe separated, " and she giggled. 

"Meaning the men from the women?" said Nan. "I guess those doors lead tothe dressing rooms. "

She was right in this, for when the two friends stepped doubtfully into along, high, white-plastered passage, which was quite empty, but out ofwhich many doors opened, they heard a confusion of conversation andlaughter from somewhere near. 

"What are you going to do?" asked Bess, at once--and as usual--shiftingall responsibility to her chum's shoulders. "Knock at all the doors, oneafter the other, until we find somebody who will direct us further?"

"Maybe that would not be a bad idea, Bess, " Nan returned. "But--"

Just then a door opened and the confusion of voices burst on thevisitors' ears with startling directness. A girl, dressed as a Gypsy, gaudy of raiment and bejeweled with brilliantly colored glass beads, almost ran the chums down as she tried to pull the door to behind her. The girl's face was painted with heavy shadows and much white, and sooddly that it looked almost like the make-up for a clown's part. 

"Hello, kids. Going in here?" she asked pleasantly enough, refrainingfrom closing the door entirely. 

Nan and Bess obtained a good view of the noisy room. It was lighted byhigh windows and a skylight. There were rows of lockers for the girls'clothes along the blank wall of the room. Through the middle and alongthe sides were long tables and stools. The tables were divided intosections, each of which had its own make-up and toilet outfit. 

A mature woman was going about, re-touching many of the girl's faces andscolding them, as Nan and Bess could hear, for not putting on the greasepaint thick enough. 

"That nasty stuff!" gasped Bess, in Nan's ear. "I wouldn't want to put iton my face. "

Right then and there Bess lost all her desire for posing for themoving picture screen. Nan paid little attention to her, but ran afterthe girl who was hurrying through the passage toward the rear of thegreat building. 

"Oh, wait, please!" cried Nan. "I want to find Mr. Gray--and I know hecan't be in that dressing-room. "

"Gray? I should say not, " and the girl in costume laughed. Then she sawthe letter in Nan's hand. "Is that for Gray?"

"Yes, " Nan replied. 

"Come along then. I expect he's been waiting for me for half an hournow--and believe me, he's just as kind and considerate as a wild bullwhen we keep him waiting. I overslept this morning. "

It was then after ten o'clock, and Nan wondered how one could"oversleep" so late. 

"I'm only glad Madam isn't going to be here this morning. By the way, "the girl added, curiously, "who's your letter from? You and your friendtrying to break into the movies?"

"My goodness, no!" gasped Nan. "I have no desire to act--and I'm sure Ihave no ability. "

"It might be fun, " Bess said doubtfully. "But do you all have to paint upso awfully?"

"Yes. That's so we will look right on the screen. Here! that's Gray--thebald-headed man in the brown suit. I hope you have better luck than twogirls from the country who were in here for a couple of days. Graybounced them yesterday. Who's your letter from?" added the girl, evidently disbelieving what both Nan and Bess had said when they deniedhaying any desire to pose for the screen. 

"Madam, herself, " said Nan, demurely. "Do you think Mr. Gray will give mea hearing?"

"Well, I guess yes, " cried the girl in costume. "Oh, do give it to himjust as he starts in laying me out, will you?"

"Anything to oblige, " Nan said, smiling. "Can we go right over andspeak to him?"

"After me, " whispered the girl. "Don't get into any of the 'sets, ' oryou'll get a call-down, too. "

They had entered an enormous room, half circular in shape, with the roofand the "flat" side mostly glass. There were countless screens tograduate the light, and that light was all directed toward the severalsmall, slightly raised stages, built in rotation along the curved wall ofthe studio. 

Each of these stages had its own "set" of scenery and was arranged forscenes. On two, action of scenes was taking place while the energeticdirectors were endeavoring to get out of their people the pantomimicrepresentation of the scenario each had in charge. 

One director suddenly clapped his hands and shouted. 

"Get this, John! All ready! You dude and cowboy start that scene now. Besure you run on at the right cue, Miss Legget. Now, John! Ready boys?"

The representation of a tussle between a cowboy and an exquisitelydressed Eastern youth, in which comedy bit the so-called dude disarmedthe Westerner and drove him into a corner till his sweetheart bursts into protect him from the "wild Easterner, " went to a glorious finish. 

The camera clicked steadily, the man working it occasionally calling outthe number of feet of blank film left on the spool so that the directormight know whether to hasten or retard the action of the picture. 

Nan and Bess stopped, as they were warned by the girl dressed in Gypsycostume, and watched the proceedings eagerly. Just as the scene came toan end the bald man in the brown suit strode over to the three girls. 

"What do you mean by keeping me waiting, Miss Penny?" he demanded in atone that made Bess shrink away and tremble. "Your scene has been set anhour. I want--Humph! what do _these_ girls want? Did you bring them in?"

Miss Penny poked Nan sharply in the ribs with her elbow. "Show him theletter, " she whispered. Adding aloud: "Oh, I brought them in, Mr. Gray. That's what delayed me. When I saw they had a letter for you--"

"For me?" snorted the director, and took doubtfully enough the epistleNan held out to him. But when he sighted the superscription he tore itopen with an exclamation of impatient surprise. 

"_Now_, what does Madam want?" he muttered, and those few words revealedto Nan Sherwood what she had suspected to be the fact about thedirector--that she was a very exacting task-mistress. 

Miss Penny, nodding slily to Nan and Bess, slipped away to the stage onwhich the Gypsy camp was set, and around which several men in brigandishlooking costumes were lounging. 

"What's this you young ladies want of me?" asked the director, ratherpuzzled, it seemed, after reading the note. "All she writes is torecommend Miss Sherwood to my attention and then includes a lot ofinstructions for to-morrow's work. " He smiled sourly. "She is notexplicit. Do you want work?"

"Oh, mercy me! no!" cried Nan. 

"I should say not!" murmured Bess. 

The director's worried, querulous face showed relief. He listenedattentively while Nan explained about the runaways. She likewise repeatedthe actress' version of the discharging of the girls whom she hadafterward identified as the two for whom Nan and Bess were in search. 

"Yes, yes! I remember. And Madam was quite right in that instance, "grudgingly admitted the director. He drew a notebook from his pocket andfluttered the leaves. "Yes. Here are their names crossed off my list. 'Lola Montague' and 'Marie Fortesque. ' I fancy, " said Mr. Gray, chuckling, "they expected to see those names on the bills. "

"But, oh, Mr. Gray!" cried Nan Sherwood, feeling in no mood for laughingat silly Sallie Morton and Celia Snubbins. "Don't you know where theylive--those two poor girls?"

"Why--no. They were extras and we get plenty of such people, " said thedirector, carelessly. "Now, the girl who sent them is as daring a girl asI ever saw. I'm sorry she's hurt, or sick, or something, for althoughJenny Albert has little 'film charm, ' as we call it, she is useful--

"There!" suddenly broke off Mr. Gray. "You might try Jenny's address. Shesent those girls here. She probably knows where they live. "

He hastily wrote down the street and number on a card and handed it toNan. "Sorry. That's the best I can do for you, Miss Sherwood. "

He turned away, taking up his own particular worries again. 

"And, goodness me, Nan!" sighed Bess, as they went out of the clutteredstudio, back through the passage, and so into the courtyard and thestreet again. "Goodness me! I think _we_ have the greatest lot of otherpeople's worries on our shoulders that I ever heard of. We seem tocollect other folk's troubles. How do we manage it?"

CHAPTER XXV

RUNAWAYS OF A DIFFERENT KIND

The chums, on leaving the moving picture studio, stopped to read morecarefully the card Mr. Gray, the director, had given them. The street onwhich Jennie Albert lived was quite unknown to Nan and Bess and they didnot know how to find it. 

Besides, Nan remembered that Mrs. Mason trusted her to go to the movingpicture studio, and to return without venturing into any strange partof the town. 

"Of course, " groaned Bess, "we shall have to go back and ask her. "

"Walter will find the place for us, " Nan said cheerfully. 

"Oh--Walter! I hate to depend so on a boy. "

"You're a ridiculous girl, " laughed her chum. "What does it matter _whom_we depend upon? We must have somebody's help in every little thing inthis world, I guess. "

"Our sex depends too much upon the other sex, " repeated Elizabeth, primly, but with dancing eyes. 

"Votes for Women!" chuckled Nan. "You are ripe for the suffragistplatform, Bessie. I listened to that friend of Mrs. Mason's talking theother day, too. She is a lovely lady, and I believe the world will bebetter--in time--if women vote. It is growing better, anyway. 

"She told a funny story about a dear old lady who was quite converted tothe cause until she learned that to obtain the right to vote in the firstplace, women must depend upon the men to give it to them. So, to beconsistent, the old lady said she must refuse to accept _any_thing at thehands of the other sex--the vote included!"

"There!" cried Bess, suddenly. "Talk about angels--"

"And you hear their sleighbells, " finished Nan. "Hi, Walter! Hi!"

They had come out upon the boulevard, and approaching along thesnow-covered driveway was Walter Mason's spirited black horse and Walterdriving in his roomy cutter. 

The horse was a pacer and he came up the drive with that rolling actionpeculiar to his kind, but which takes one over the road very rapidly. Awhite fleck of foam spotted the pacer's shiny chest. He was sleek andhandsome, but with his rolling, unblinded eyes and his red nostrils, helooked ready to bolt at any moment. 

Walter, however, had never had an accident with Prince and had beenfamiliar with the horse from the time it was broken to harness. Mr. Masonwas quite proud of his son's horsemanship. 

Walter saw Nan as she leaped over the windrow of heaped up snow into theroadway, and with a word brought Prince to a stop without going farbeyond the two girls. There he circled about and came back to the side ofthe driveway where Nan and Bess awaited him. 

"Hop in, girls. There's room for two more, all right, " cried Walter. "I'll sit between you. One get in one side--the other on t'other. 'Roundhere, Nan--that's it! Now pull the robe up and tuck it in--sit on it. Prince wants to travel to-day. We'll have a nice ride. "

"Oh-o-o!" gasped Bess, as they started. "Not too fast, Walter. "

"I won't throw the clutch into high-gear, " promised Walter, laughing. "Look out for the flying ice, girls. I haven't the screen up, for I wantto see what we're about. "

Walter wore automobile goggles, and sat on the edge of the seat betweenthe two girls, with his elbows free and feet braced. If another sleighwhizzed past, going in the same direction, Prince's ears went back and hetugged at the bit. He did not like to be passed on the speedway. 

Bess quickly lost her timidity--as she always did--and the ride was mostenjoyable. When the first exuberance of Prince's spirit had worn off, andhe was going along more quietly, the girls told Walter what they had seenand heard at the motion picture studio. 

"Great luck!" pronounced the boy. "I'd like to get into one of thoseplaces and see 'em make pictures. I've seen 'em on the street; but that'sdifferent. It must be great. "

"But we didn't find Sallie and Celia there, " complained Nan. 

"You didn't expect to, did you?" returned the boy. "But I know where thatstreet is. We'll go around there after lunch if mother says we may, andlook for that girl who knows them. "

"Oh, Bess!"

"Oh, Nan!"

The chums had caught sight of the same thing at the same moment. Justahead was a heavy sleigh, with plumes on the corner-posts, drawn by twobig horses. They could not mistake the turnout. It belonged to theGraves' family with whom Linda Riggs was staying. 

The chums had not seen Linda since the evening of the party, when therailroad president's daughter had acted in such an unladylike manner. 

"I see the big pung, " laughed Walter. "And I bet Linda's in it, all alonein her glory. Pearl told me she hated the thing; but that her grandmotherconsiders it the only winter equipage fit to ride in. You ought to seethe old chariot they go out in in summer. 

"Hello, " he added. "Got to pull up here. "

A policeman on horseback had suddenly ridden into the middle of thedriveway. Just ahead there was a crossing and along the side road cameclanging a hospital ambulance, evidently on an emergency call. 

The white-painted truck skidded around the corner, the doctor on the rearstep, in his summerish looking white ducks, swinging far out to balancethe weight of the car. 

The pair of horses drawing the Graves' sleigh, snorted, pulled aside androse, pawing, on their hind legs. The coachman had not been ready forsuch a move and he was pitched out on his head. 

The girls and Walter heard a shrill scream of terror. The footman leftthe sleigh in a hurry, too--jumping in a panic. Off the two frightenedhorses dashed--not up the boulevard, but along the side street. 

"That's Linda, " gasped Bess. 

"And she's alone, " added Nan. 

"Say! she's going to get all the grandeur she wants in a minute, "exclaimed Walter. "Why didn't she jump, too, when she had the chance?"

He turned Prince into the track behind the swaying sleigh. The blackhorse seemed immediately to scent the chase. He snorted and increasedhis stride. 

"Oh, Walter! Can you catch them?" Nan cried. 

"I bet Prince can, " the boy replied, between his set teeth. 

The policeman on horseback was of course ahead in the chase after therunaways. But the snow on this side road was softer than on the speedway, and it balled under his horse's hoofs. 

The black horse driven by Walter Mason was more sure-footed than thepoliceman's mount. The latter slipped and lost its stride. Prince wentpast the floundering horse like a flash. 

The swaying sleigh was just ahead now. Walter drew Prince to one side sothat the cutter would clear the sleigh in passing. 

The chums could see poor, frightened Linda crouching in the bottom of thesleigh, clinging with both hands to one of the straps from which theplumes streamed. Her face was white and she looked almost ready to faint. 

CHAPTER XXVI

AN UNEXPECTED FIND

The mounted policeman came thundering down the street after them, hishorse having regained its footing. The reins of the big steeds weredragging on the ground, and Walter and his girl companions saw no way ofgetting hold of the lines and so pulling down the frightened horses. 

There was another way to save Linda Riggs, however. Walter looked at NanSherwood and his lips moved. 

"Are you afraid to drive Prince?" he asked. 

"No, " declared Nan, and reached for the reins. She had held the blackhorse before. Besides, she had driven her Cousin Tom's pair of bigdraught horses up in the Michigan woods, and Mr. Henry Sherwood'shalf-wild roan ponies, as well. Her wrists were strong and supple, andshe was alert. 

Walter passed the lines over and then kicked the robe out of the way. Bess sat on the left side of the seat, clinging to the rail. She wasfrightened--but more for the girl in the other sleigh, than because oftheir own danger. 

Walter Mason motioned to Bess to move over to Nan's side. The latter wasguiding Prince carefully, and the cutter crept up beside the biggervehicle. Only a couple of feet separated the two sleighs as Walter leanedout from his own seat and shouted to Linda:

"Look this way! Look! Do exactly as I tell you!"

The girl turned her strained face toward him. The bigger sleigh swervedand almost collided with the cutter. 

"Now!" yelled Walter, excitedly. "Let go!"

He had seized Linda by the arm, clinging with his other hand to the railof the cutter-seat. She screamed--and so did Bess. 

But Walter's grasp was strong, and, after all, Linda was not heavy. Herhold was torn from the plume-staff, and she was half lifted, halfdragged, into the cutter. 

Prince darted past the now laboring runaways. One of the latter slippedon a smooth bit of ice and crashed to the roadway. 

His mate went down with him and the sleigh was overturned. Had Lindanot been rescued as she was, her injury--perhaps her death--would havebeen certain. 

They stopped at the first drug store and a man held the head of theexcited black horse while Walter soothed and blanketed him. Then the boywent inside, and into the prescription room, where Nan and Bess werecomforting their schoolmate. 

"Oh, dear! oh, dear! I'd have been killed if it hadn't been for you, Walter Mason, " cried Linda, for once so thoroughly shaken out of her posethat she acted and spoke naturally. "How can I ever thank you enough?"

"Say!" blurted out Walter. "You'd better thank Nan, here, too. I couldn'thave grabbed you if it hadn't been for her. She held Prince and guidedthe sleigh. "

"Oh, that's all right!" interjected Nan, at once very much embarrassed. "Anybody would have done the same. "

"'Tisn't so!" cried Bess. "I just held on and squealed. "

But Linda's pride was quite broken down. She looked at Nan with her owneyes streaming. 

"Oh, Sherwood!" she murmured. "I've said awfully mean things about you. I'm so sorry--I really am. "

"Oh, that's all right!" muttered Nan, almost boyish in her confusion. 

"Well, I have! I know I made fun of your medal for bravery. You deserveanother for what you just did. Oh, dear! I--I never can thank any of youenough;" and she cried again on Bess Harley's shoulder. 

Walter telephoned to the Graves' house, telling Linda's aunt of theaccident and of Linda's predicament, and when a vehicle was sent for thehysterical girl the boy, with Nan and Bess, hurried home to a lateluncheon, behind black Prince. 

Although Mrs. Mason, naturally, was disturbed over the risk of accidentWalter and the girl chums had taken in rescuing Linda Riggs, the interestof the young folks was in, and all their comment upon, the possiblechange of heart the purse-proud girl had undergone. 

"I don't know about these 'last hour conversions, '" said the pessimisticBess. "I should wring the tears out of the shoulder of my coat and bottle'em. Only tears I ever heard of Linda's shedding! And they may prove tobe crocodile tears at that. "

"Oh, hush, Bess!" said Nan. "Let's not be cruel. "

"We'll see how she treats you hereafter, " Grace said. "I, for one, hopeLinda _has_ had a change of heart. She'll be so much happier if she stopsquarreling with everybody. "

"And the other girls will have a little more peace, too, I fancy; eh?"threw in her brother, slyly. "But how about this place you want to go tothis afternoon, Nan?" he added. 

"I should think you had had enough excitement for one day, " Mrs. Masonsighed. "The wonderful vitality of these young creatures! It amazes me. They wish to be on the go all of the time. "

"You see, " Nan explained, "we have only a few more days in Chicago and Iam _so_ desirous of finding Sallie and Celia. Poor Mrs. Morton isheart-broken, and I expect Celia's mother fears all the time for herdaughter's safety, too. "

"Those foolish girls!" Mrs. Mason said. "I am glad you young peoplehaven't this general craze for exhibiting one's self in moving pictures. "

"You can't tell when that may begin, Mother, " chuckled Walter. "When Nanwas holding on to Prince and I was dragging Linda out of that sleigh, ifa camera-man had been along he could have made some picture--believe me!"

"You'll walk or take a car to the address, " Mrs. Mason instructed them. "No more riding behind that excited horse to-day, please. "

"All right, Mother, " said Walter, obediently. "Now, whenever you girlsare ready, I am at your service. It's lucky I know pretty well the poorerlocalities in Chicago. Your calling district, Nan Sherwood, seems tonumber in it a lot of shady localities. "

However, it was only a poor neighborhood, not a vicious one, in whichJennie Albert lived. Grace had accompanied the chums from Tillbury, andthe trio of girls went along very merrily with Walter until they camenear to the number Mr. Gray had given them. 

This number they had some difficulty in finding. At least, four hundredand sixteen was a big warehouse in which nobody lodged of course. Plentyof tenement houses crowded about it but four hundred and sixteen wassurely the warehouse. 

While Walter was inquiring in some of the little neighboring stores, Nansaw a child pop out of a narrow alley beside the warehouse and looksharply up and down the street. It was the furtive, timid glance of thewoods creature or the urchin of the streets; both expect and fear theattack of the strong. 

The Lakeview Hall girls were across the street. The little girl dartedsuddenly toward them. Her head was covered by an old shawl, which halfblinded her. Her garments were scanty for such brisk winter weather, andher shoes were broken. 

"Oh, the poor little thing!" murmured Grace Mason. 

Nan was suddenly excited by the sight of the child crossing the crowdedstreet; she sprang to the edge of the walk, but did not scream as thelittle one scurried on. Down the driveway came a heavy auto-truck andalthough the little girl saw the approach of this, she could not well seewhat followed the great vehicle. 

She escaped the peril of the truck, but came immediately in the path of atouring car that shot out from behind to pass the truck. With anerve-racking "honk! honk!" the swiftly moving car was upon the child. 

Bess and Grace _did_ scream; but Nan, first aware of the little one'sdanger, was likewise first to attempt her rescue. And she needed herbreath for that effort. Other people shouted at the child and, fromeither sidewalk, Nan was the only person who darted out to save her!

The driver under the steering wheel of the touring car did his best tobring it to an abrupt stop; but the wheels skidded and--for a breathlessmoment--it did seem as though the shawl-blinded child must go under thewheels of the vehicle. 

Nan Sherwood seized the shawl and by main strength dragged its owner tothe gutter. The car slid past; both girls were safe!

"You lemme be! you lemme be!" shrieked the girl Nan had rescued, evidently considering herself much abused by the rough treatment herrescuer had given her, and struggling all the time to keep Nan fromlifting her upon the sidewalk. 

"Why, you little savage!" gasped Bess Harley. "Don't you know you'vebeen saved?"

"Who wants to be saved?" demanded the smaller girl, looking up at thethree older ones out of the hood of the shawl she had clung to sodesperately. "What youse savin' me _from_?"

Bess grew more excited. "Why, Nan!" she cried. "It is--it must be! Don'tyou see who she is?"

Nan was already looking down into the dark, shrewd and thin countenanceof the little one with a smile of recognition. It was Inez, the littleflower-girl, whom she had so fortunately pulled out of the way of theautomobile. 

"Hullo, honey; don't you know us?" Nan asked her. 

"Hi!" exclaimed the street waif. "If it ain't me tony friends fromWashington Park. Say! youse got ter excuse me. I didn't know youse. "

"Why, Inez!" exclaimed Nan, kindly. "You have a dreadful cold. "

"Say! if I don't have nothin' worse than that I'll do fine, " croakedthe little girl, carelessly. "But I never expected to see youse tonyfolks again. "

"Why, Inez!" exclaimed Bess. "And we've been hunting all over for you. "

"Goodness me!" burst out Grace Mason. "You don't mean to say that this isthe poor little thing we've been in such a fuss about?"

"Of course she is, " Bess replied. 

"This is positively Inez, " laughed Nan, squeezing the little one's coldhand in her own. "Aren't you glad to see us, child?"

"I dunno, " said Inez, doubtfully. "Youse ain't come to take me back tome aunt, have youse?" and she looked around for a chance to escape. "Iain't goin' to live with her no more--now I tell youse!" and she becamequite excited. 

Nan sought to reassure her. "Don't you be afraid, honey. We wouldn'tsee you abused. We only want to help you. That is why we have beensearching for you. "

"You been huntin' me up--jest to _help_ me?" gasped Inez, in wonder. 

"Of course we have, " said Bess. 

"Hi!" exclaimed the flower-seller, with an impish grin. "I reckon me auntwould say some of yer buttons was missin'. Youse can't be right in theupper story, " and she pointed to her own head to illustrate her meaning. 

"Goodness!" gasped Grace. "Does she think we are crazy because we want todo her a kindness?"

"She's not used to being treated with much consideration, I am afraid, "Nan observed, in a low voice. 

"You ridiculous child!" came from Bess. "Don't you know that we were bothinterested in you that first day? We told you we would see you again. "

"Aw, that don't mean nothin', " sniffed Inez. "I didn't expect nothin'would come of it. If youse folks from Washington Park ain't crazy, whatis the matter wit' youse? I ain't nothin' ter you. "

"Why, goodness me!" cried Grace again. "Do you think everybody who iskind must be out of his head? Who ever heard the like?"

"Folks ain't generally crazy to do me no favors, " said Inez, with one ofher sharp glances. "But if you girls want ter give me somethin' fornothin, ' you've lost some of yer buttons, that's sure!"

Nan and her two companions had to laugh at this, but the laughter wasclose to tears, after all. It was really pathetic that this waif ofthe streets should suspect the sanity of anybody who desired to do hera kindness. 

CHAPTER XXVII

JENNIE ALBERT--AND SOMEBODY ELSE

"Well! what do you know about that?" was Walter's comment, whenhe came back to the girls and found them surrounding the hungrylooking little street waif, of whom he had already heard so muchfrom Nan and Bess. 

"We go out to shoot partridges and bring down a crow, " he added. "Goodness! what a hungry looking kid. There's a bakeshop over the way. Bring her in and see if we can't cure this child of old Father Famine. "

Inez looked at Walter askance at first. But when she understood that hewas going to stand treat to coffee and cakes, she grew friendlier. 

"Yep, I'm hungry, " she admitted. "Ain't I _always_ hungry? M-m--!" as theshop door opened and she sniffed the odors of coffee and food. 

"Do, _do_ hurry and feed the poor little thing, " urged Grace, almost intears. "Oh! I'm sorry I came with you girls. Hungry! Only think of being_hungry_, Walter!"

Inez looked at Grace as though she thought she was losing her mind. 

"Aw, say, " said she, "don't let it worry youse. I'm uster being empty, _I_ am. And 'specially since me and me aunt had our fallin' out. "

"Oh! we know about that, Inez, " cried Bess. "We went there to look foryou. "

"To me aunt's?" asked Inez, in some excitement. 

"Yes, " Nan replied. 

"Is she a-lookin' for me?" demanded the child with a restless glance atthe door of the shop. 

"I don't think she is, " Nan said. 

"I should say not!" Bess added. "She seems to fairly hate you, child. Anddidn't she beat you?"

"Yep. She's the biggest, ye see. She took away all me money and thenburned me basket. That was puttin' me on the fritz for fair, and I wentwild and went for her. This is what I got!"

She dropped the shawl off her head suddenly. There, above the temple andwhere the tangled black hair had been cut away, was a long, angry wound. It was partially healed. 

"Oh, my dear!" cried Nan. 

Grace fell to crying. Bess grew very angry and threatened all manner ofpunishments for the cruel aunt. 

"How did she do it?" Walter asked. 

"Flat iron, " replied the waif, succinctly. "I had the poker. She 'got' mefirst. I didn't dare go back, and I thought I'd die that first night. "

"Oh, oh!" sobbed Grace. "Out in the cold, too!"

"Yes'm, " Inez said, eating and drinking eagerly. "But a nice feller in adrug store--a night clerk, I guess youse call him--took me in after oneo'clock, an' give me something to eat, and fixed up me head. "

"What a kind man!" exclaimed Bess. 

"So you see, Inez, there are some kind folks in the world, " said Nan, smiling at the waif. "Some kind ones beside _us_. "

"Yep, " the child admitted. "But not rich folks like youse. "

"Goodness, child!" gasped Grace. "We're not rich. "

Inez stared at her with a mouthful poised upon her knife. "Cracky!" sheejaculated. "What do youse call it? Furs, and fine dresses, and nothin'ter do but sport around--Hi! if youse girls from Washington Park ain'trich, what d'ye call it?"

Nan was looking serious again. "I guess the child is right, " she said, with a little sigh. "We _are_ rich. Compared with what _she_ has, we'reas rich as old King Midas. "

"For goodness' sake!" cried Bess. "I hope _not_--at least, not in ears. "

The others laughed; but Nan added: "I guess we don't realize how welloff we are. "

"Hear! hear!" murmured Walter. "Being sure of three meals a day would beriches to this poor little thing. "

"Hi!" ejaculated Inez, still eating greedily. "That'd be _Heaven_, that would!"

"But do let her finish her story, girls, " urged Bess. "Go on, dear. Whathappened to you after the kind druggist took you in?"

"I staid all night there, " said Inez. "He fixed me a bunk on an oldlounge in the back room. An' next morning a girl I useter see at MotherBeasley's seen me and brought me over here. She ain't well now and hermoney's about run out, I reckon. Say! did youse ever find them twogreenies youse was lookin' for?" she suddenly asked Nan. 

"Oh, no! We're looking for them now, " Nan replied. "Have you seenthem, Inez?"

"I dunno. I b'lieve my friend may know something about them. "

"You mean the girl you are with?" Nan asked. 

"Yep. "

"Who is she?" asked Bess. 

"She's one o' them movin' picture actorines. She does stunts. "

"'Stunts'?" repeated Walter, while Nan and Bess looked at each other withinterest. "What sort of 'stunts, ' pray?"

"Hard jobs. Risky ones, too. And that last one she went out on she got anawful cold. Whew! I been expectin' her to cough herself to pieces. "

"But what did she do?" repeated the curious Walter. 

"Oh, she was out in the country with the X. L. Y. Company. She was playin'a boy's part--she's as thin as I am, but tall and lanky. Makes up fine asa boy, " said Inez, with some enthusiasm. 

"She was supposed to be a boy helpin' some robbers. They put her througha ventilator into a sleepin' car standin' in the railroad yards. That'swhere she got cold, " Inez added, "for she had to dress awful light so'sto wiggle through the ventilator winder. It was a cold mornin', an' shecame back ter town 'most dead. "

"Where is she now?" asked Walter. 

But it was Nan's question which brought out the most surprising response. "Who is she?" Nan asked the little girl. "What is her name?"

"Jennie Albert. An' she's a sure 'nough movie girl, too. But she can'tget good jobs because she ain't pretty. "

"I declare!" exclaimed Bess, finally, after a moment of surprisedsilence. 

"I know she can't live over there in that big warehouse, and that'snumber four hundred and sixteen, " said Grace. 

"She lives in a house back in a court beside that big one, " explainedInez. "It's four hundred and sixteen _and a half_. "

"Then it's only half a house?" suggested Bess Harley. 

"I know it can be only _half_ fit to live in, " said Walter. "Not many ofthese around here are. What are you going to do now, Nan?"

"Inez will take us over and introduce us to Jennie. "

"Sure thing!" agreed the waif. 

"Tell us, Inez, " Nan said. "What can we take in to your friend Jennie?"

"To eat, or comforts of any kind?" cried Grace, opening her purse atonce. 

"Hi!" cried Inez. "Jest look around. Anything youse see. _She ain't gotnothin'_. "

"Which was awful grammar, but the most illuminating sentence I everheard, " declared Bess, afterward. 

The girls made special inquiries of the child, however, and they did morethan carry over something for the sick girl to eat. They bought an oilheater and a big can of oil, for the girl's room was unheated. 

There was extra bed-clothing and some linen to get, too, for Inez was anobservant little thing and knew just what the sick girl needed. Waltermeanwhile bought fresh fruit and canned goods--soup and preservedfruit--and a jar of calf's foot jelly. 

The procession that finally took up its march into the alley towardnumber four hundred and sixteen _and a half_, headed by Inez and with theboy from the shop bearing the heater and the oil can as rear guard, wasan imposing one indeed. 

"See what I brought you, Jen Albert!" cried Inez, as she burst in thedoor of the poorly furnished room. "These are some of me tony friendsfrom Washington Park, and they've come to have a picnic. "

The room was as cheaply and meanly furnished as any that the three girlsfrom Lakeview Hall had ever seen. Nan thought she had seen poverty ofhousehold goods and furnishings when she had lived for a season with herUncle Henry Sherwood at Pine Camp, in the woods of Upper Michigan. Someof the neighbors there had scarcely a factory made chair to sit on. Butthis room in which Jennie Albert lived, and to which she had brought thelittle flower-seller for shelter, was so barren and ugly that it made Nanshudder as she gazed at it. 

The girl who rose suddenly off the ragged couch as the three friendsentered, startled them even more than the appearance of the room itself. She was so thin and haggard--she had such red, red cheeks--such feverisheyes--such an altogether wild and distraught air--that timid Grace shrankback and looked at Walter, who remained with the packages and bundles atthe head of the stairs. 

Nan and Bess likewise looked at the girl with some trepidation; but theyheld their ground. 

"What do you want? Who are you?" asked Jennie Albert, hoarsely. 

"We--we have come to see you, " explained Nan, hesitatingly. "We'refriends of little Inez. "

"You'd better keep away from here!" cried the older girl, fiercely. "Thisis no place for the likes of you. "

"Aw, say! Now, don't get flighty again, Jen, " urged little Inez, muchworried. "I tell youse these girls is all right. Why, they're pertic'larfriends of mine. "

"Your--your friends?" muttered the wild looking girl. "This--thisis a poor place to bring your friends, Ina. But--do sit down! Dotake a chair!"

She waved her hand toward the only chair there was--a broken-armed parlorchair, the upholstery of which was in rags. She laughed as she did so--asudden, high, cackling laugh. Then she broke out coughing and--as Inezhad said--she seemed in peril of shaking herself to pieces!

"Oh, the poor thing!" murmured Bess to Nan. 

"She is dreadfully ill, " the latter whispered. "She ought really to havea doctor right now. "

"Oh, girls!" gasped Grace, in terror. "Let's come away. Perhaps she hassome contagious disease. She looks just _awful_!"

The sick girl heard this, low as the three visitors spoke. "And I feel'just awful!'" she gasped, when she got her breath after coughing. "You'dbetter not stay to visit Ina. This is no place for you. "

"Why, we must do something to help you, " Nan declared, recovering some ofher assurance. "Surely you should have a doctor. "

"He gimme some medicine for her yisterday, " broke in Inez. "But we ain'tgot no more money for medicine. Has we, Jen?"

"Not much for anything else, either, " muttered the bigger girl, turningher face away. 

She was evidently ashamed of her poverty. Nan saw that it irked JennieAlbert to have strangers see her need and she hastened, as usual, torelieve the girl of that embarrassment. 

"My dear, " she said, running to her as Jennie sat on the couch, andputting an arm about the poor, thin, shaking shoulders. "My dear! wewould not disturb you only that you may be able to help us find two lostgirls. And you _are_ so sick. Do let us stay a while and help you, nowthat we have come, in return for the information you can give us aboutSallie Morton and Celia Snubbins. "

"Gracious! who are they?" returned Jennie Albert. "I never heard of them, I'm sure, " and she seemed to speak quite naturally for a moment. 

"Oh, my dear!" murmured Nan. "Haven't you seen them at all? Why, theytold me at the studio--"

"I know! I know!" exclaimed Bess, suddenly. "Jennie doesn't know theirright names. Nan means Lola Montague and Marie Fortesque. "

Jennie Albert stared wonderingly at them. "Why--_those_ girls? I rememberthem, of course, " she said. "I supposed those names were assumed, but Ihad no idea they really owned such ugly ones. "

"And where, for goodness' sake, are they?" cried the impatient Bess. 

"Miss Montague and her friend?"

"Yes, " Nan explained. "We are very anxious to find them, and havebeen looking for them ever since we came to Chicago. You see, theyhave run away from home, Jennie, and their parents are terriblyworried about them. "

"Maybe they were ill-treated at home, " Jennie Albert said, gloomily. 

"Oh, they were not!" cried Bess, eagerly. "We know better. Poor old SiSnubbins thinks just the world and all of Celia. "

"And Mrs. Morton is one of the loveliest women I ever met, " Nan added. "The girls have just gone crazy over the movies. "

"Over acting in them, do you mean?" asked the girl who "did stunts. "

"Yes. And they can't act. Mr. Gray says so. "

"Oh, if they were no good he'd send them packing in a hurry, " groaned thesick girl, holding her head with both hands. "I sent them over to himbecause I knew he wanted at least _one_ extra. "

"And he did not even take their address, " Nan explained. "Do you knowwhere they live?"

"No, I don't. They just happened in here. I know that they recently movedfrom a former lodging they had on the other side of town. That is reallyall I know about them, " said Jennie Albert. 

Meanwhile Walter had been quietly handing in the packages to his sisterand Bess. The oil stove was deftly filled by the good-hearted boy beforehe lifted it and the can of oil inside. 

When the big lamp was lit the chill of the room was soon dispelled. Little Inez opened the packages eagerly, chattering all the time toJennie Albert about the good things the young folks from Washington Parkhad brought. 

But the sick girl, after her little show of interest in Nan'squestioning, quickly fell back into a lethargic state. Nan whispered toInez and asked her about the doctor she had seen for Jennie. 

"Is he a good one?" she asked the child. "And will he come here ifwe pay him?"

"He's a corker!" exclaimed the street waif. "But he's mighty busy. Yougot to show him money in your hand to get him to come to see anybody. Youknow how these folks are around here. They don't have no money fornothin'--least of all for doctors. "

She told Nan where the busy physician was to be found, and Nanwhispered to Walter the address and sent him hurrying for the man ofpills and powders. 

Until the doctor returned with Walter the girls busied themselvescleaning up the room, undressing the patient, and putting her into bedbetween fresh sheets, and making her otherwise more comfortable. Therewas a good woman on this same floor of the old tenement house, and Gracepaid her out of her own purse to look in on Jennie Albert occasionallyand see that she got her medicine and food. 

For they were all determined not to leave little Inez in these poorlodgings. "Goodness knows, " Bess remarked, "if she gets out of our sightnow we may never find her again. She's just as elusive as a flea!"

The child looked at Bess in her sly, wondering way, and said: "Hi! Inever had nobody worry over what become of me 'fore this. Seems like it'ssomethin' new. "

CHAPTER XXVIII

WHAT HAPPENED TO INEZ

Walter, who had gone downstairs to wait after he had brought the doctor, had a long wait in the cold court at the door of the lodging house inwhich Jennie Albert lived. A less patient and good-natured boy would havebeen angry when his sister and her school chums finally appeared. 

He was glad that Grace took an interest in anything besides her ownpleasure and comfort. His sister, Walter thought, was too much inclinedto dodge responsibility and everything unpleasant. 

He wanted her to be more like Nan. "But, then, " the boy thought, "there'sonly one Nan Sherwood in the world. Guess I can't expect Grace to run avery close second to her. "

However, when the girls did appear Grace was chattering just as excitedlyas Bess Harley herself; and she led Inez by the hand. 

"Yes, she shall! She'll go right home with me now--sha'n't she, Walter?"Grace cried. "You get a taxi, and we'll all pile in--did you ever ride ina taxi, Inez?"

"Nope. But I caught on behind a jitney once, " confessed the little girl, "and a cop bawled me out for it. "

"We're going to take her home, and dress her up nice, " Bess explained toWalter, "and give her the time of her life. "

Inez seemed a bit dazed. In her own vernacular she would probably havesaid--had she found her voice--that "things was comin' too fast for her. "She scarcely knew what these girls intended to do with her; but she had agood deal of confidence in Nan Sherwood, and she looked back at herfrequently. 

It was to Nan, too, that Walter looked for directions as to their furthermovements, as well as for exact information as to what had gone on upstairs in Jennie Albert's room. 

"She's an awfully plucky girl, " Nan said. "No; she's not very ill now, "the doctor said, "but she does have a dreadful cough. However, the doctorhas given her medicine. 

"It's odd, " Nan added thoughtfully, "but she got this cold down atTillbury. The company she was out with were taking pictures near there. There's a big old mansion called the Coscommon House that hasn't beenoccupied for years. It's often filmed by movie people; but never in thewinter before, that I know of. "

"But, Nan!" exclaimed Walter. "What did we come over here for, anyway?How about those runaway girls?"

"I'm sorry, " Nan said, shaking her head; "but we haven't found them. Theydon't live here, and Jennie doesn't know where they do live. "

"Goodness! What elusive creatures they are, " grumbled Walter. 

"Aren't they!" Bess exclaimed. "Jennie Albert just happened to meet themwhen they were looking for work, and told them where she lived. So theycame around to see her the other day. That Mr. Gray we saw at the studiohad just sent for Jennie, and so she told them to go around and see him. Yes! Just think! 'Lola Montague' and 'Marie Fortesque'! Say! Aren't thosenames the limit?"

But Nan considered the matter too serious to joke about. "I am afraidthat Sallie and Celia must be about to _their_ limit, " she said. "PoorMrs. Morton! She said Sallie was stubborn, and she must be, to endure somany disappointments and not give up and go home. "

"The sillies!" said Walter. "How about it, kid? Would _you_ run away froma good home, even if it were in the country?"

"Not if the eats came reg'lar and they didn't beat me too much, " declaredInez, repeating her former declaration. 

"Well, then, we'll take you where the 'eats' at least come regular, "laughed Walter. "Eh, Grace?"

"Of course. Do hurry and get that taxi. "

"What do you suppose your mother will say, Grace?" demanded Bess, insudden doubt, when Walter had departed to telephone for the taxi-cab. 

"I know mother will pity the poor little soul, " Grace declared. "I'm sureshe belongs to enough charitable boards and committees so that she oughtto be delighted that we bring a real 'case, ' as she calls them, to her, "and Grace laughed at her own conceit. 

Nan, however, wondered if, after all, Mrs. Mason would care to take anypractical responsibility upon herself regarding the street waif. It wasone thing to be theoretically charitable and an entirely different matterto take a case of deserving charity into one's own home. 

But that thought did not disturb Nan. She had already planned a futurefor little Inez. She was determined to take her back to Tillbury andleave Inez with her mother. 

"I'm sure, " Nan said to herself, "that Momsey will be glad to have alittle girl around the house again. And Inez can go to school, andgrow to be good and polite. For, goodness knows! she _is_ a littlesavage now. "

Eventually these dreams of Nan for little Inez came true. Just atpresent, however, much more material things happened to her when theyarrived at the Mason house. 

Grace and Bess hung over the little girl, and fussed about her, as Walterlaughingly said, "like a couple of hens over one chicken. "

Nan was glad to see her schoolmates so much interested in the waif. Sheknew it would do both Grace and Bess good to have their charitableemotions awakened. 

As for Mrs. Mason, Nan soon saw that that kindly lady would be bothhelpful and wise in the affair. Left to their own desires, Grace andBess would have dressed Inez up like a French doll. But Nan told Mrs. Mason privately just what she hoped to do with the child, and the ladyheartily approved. 

"A very good thing--very good, indeed, Nan Sherwood, " said Mrs. Mason, "if your father and mother approve. "

As it chanced, there was a letter from Mrs. Sherwood awaiting Nan whenshe and her schoolmates arrived with Inez; from it Nan learned that herfather would be in Chicago the next day, having been called to a finalconference with the heads of the automobile corporation. 

"Mr. Bulson is so insistent, and is so ugly, " the letter said, "that Ifear your dear father will have to go to court. It will be a greatexpense as well as a notorious affair. 

"Fighting an accusation that you cannot disprove is like Don Quixote'sold fight with the windmill. There is nothing to be gained in the end. Itis a dreadful, dreadful thing. "

Nan determined to meet her father and tell him all about Inez. Shewas sure he would be interested in the waif, and in her plans forInez's future. 

That night, however, at the Mason house, there was much excitement amongthe young people. Of course the girls got Katie, the maid, to help withInez. Katie would have done anything for Nan, if not for Grace herself;and although she did not at first quite approve of the street waif, sheended in loving Inez. 

In the first place they bathed the child and wrapped her in a soft, fleecy gown of Grace's. Her clothing, every stitch of it, was carriedgingerly down to the basement by Katie, and burned. 

From the garments Mrs. Harley had sent a complete outfit for the childwas selected. They were probably the best garments Inez had ever worn. 

"She looks as nice now as me own sister, " Katie declared, when, after adeal of fussing and chatting in the girls' suite, the street waif wasdressed from top to toe. 

"Now ye may take her down to show the mistress; and I belave she willbe plazed. "

This was a true prophecy. Not only was Mrs. Mason delighted with thechanged appearance of Inez, but Mr. Mason approved, too; while Walterconsidered the metamorphosis quite marvelous. 

"Great!" he said. "Get her filled up, and filled out, and her appearancealone will pay you girls for your trouble. "

While they talked and joked about her, Inez fell fast asleep with herhead pillowed in Nan Sherwood's lap. 

CHAPTER XXIX

THE KEY TO A HARD LOCK

The young people had planned to spend that next forenoon at a skatingrink, where the ice was known to be good; but Nan ran away right afterbreakfast to meet her father's train, intending to join the crowd at therink later. 

"I'll take your skates for you, Nan, " Walter assured her, as she setforth for the station. 

"That's so kind of you, Walter, " she replied gratefully. 

"Say! I'd do a whole lot more for you than _that_, " blurted out the boy, his face reddening. 

"I think you have already, " said Nan, sweetly, waving him good-bye fromthe taxi in which Mrs. Mason had insisted she should go to the station. 

She settled back in her seat and thought happily for a few minutes. Shehad been so busy with all sorts of things here in Chicago--especiallywith what Bess Harley called "other people's worries"--that Nan hadscarcely been able to think of her hopes for the future, or her memoriesof the past. She had been living very much in the present. 

"Why, " she thought, with something like a feeling of remorse, "Ihaven't even missed Beautiful Beulah. I--I wonder if I am reallygrowing up? Oh, dear!"

Mr. Sherwood thought her a very much composed and sophisticatedlittle body, indeed, when he met her on the great concourse of therailway station. 

"Goodness me, Nan!" he declared, when he had greeted her. "How you_do_ grow. Your mother and I have seen so little of you since we cameback from Scotland, that we haven't begun to realize that you are abig, big girl. "

"Don't make me out _too_ big, Papa Sherwood!" she cried, clinging to hisarm. "I--I don't _want_ to grow up entirely. I want for a long time to be_your_ little girl. 

"I know what we'll do, " cried Nan, delightedly. "You have plenty of timebefore your business conference. We'll walk along together to see howJennie Albert is--it isn't far from here--and you shall buy me a bag ofpeanuts, just as you used to do, and we'll eat 'em right on the street aswe go along. "

"Is that the height of your ambition?" laughed Mr. Sherwood. "If so, youare easily satisfied. "

Nan told her father all about the search for the runaway girls, and aboutlittle Inez and Jennie Albert. She wanted to see how the latter was. Thecomforts she and her friends had left the sick girl the day before, andthe ministrations of the physician, should have greatly improved Jennie'scondition. 

Nan left her father at the entrance to the alley leading back to Jennie'slodging; but in a few minutes she came flying back to Mr. Sherwood insuch excitement that at first she could scarcely speak connectedly. 

"Why, Nan! What is the matter?" her father demanded. 

"Oh! come up and see Jennie! _Do_ come up and see Jennie!" urged Nan. 

"What is the matter with her? Is she worse?"

"Oh, no! Oh, no!" cried the excited girl. "But she has got such awonderful thing to tell you, Papa Sherwood!"

"To tell me?" asked her father wonderingly. 

"Yes! Come!" Nan seized his hand and pulled him into the alley. On theway she explained a little of the mystery. 

"Dear me! it's the most wonderful thing, Papa Sherwood. You know, I toldyou Jennie was working for a moving picture company that was making afilm at Tillbury. She had a boy's part; she looks just like a boy with acap on, for her hair is short. 

"Well! Now listen! They took those pictures the day before, and the veryday that you came back from Chicago to Tillbury and that awful Mr. Bulsonlost his money and watch. "

"What's that?" demanded Mr. Sherwood, suddenly evincing all the interestNan expected him to in the tale. 

As they mounted the stairs Nan retailed how the company had gone to therailroad yards early in the morning, obtaining permission from theyardmaster to film a scene outside the sleeping car standing there on asiding, including the entrance of Jennie as the burglars' helper throughthe narrow ventilator. 

"Of course, the sleeping car doors can only be opened from the insidewhen it is occupied, save with a key, " Nan hastened to say; "so you seeshe was supposed to enter through the ventilator and afterward open thedoor to the men. "

"I see, " Mr. Sherwood observed, yet still rather puzzled by hisdaughter's vehemence. 

Jennie Albert, however, when he was introduced to her by Nan, gave a muchclearer account of the matter. To take up the story where Nan had brokenoff, Jennie, when she wriggled through the window into the car, had seena big negro man stooping over a man in a lower berth and removingsomething from under his pillow. 

The man in the berth was lying on his back and snoring vociferously. There seemed to be no other passenger remaining in the car. 

Jennie did not see what the colored man took from the sleeping passenger, but she was sure he was robbing him. The negro, however, saw Jennie, andthreatened to harm her if she ever spoke of the matter. 

The director of the picture and other men were outside. The girl wasalarmed and more than half sick then. She had the remainder of thedirector's instructions to carry out. 

Therefore, she hurried to open the sleeping car door as her instructionscalled for, and the negro thief escaped without Jennie's saying a word toanybody about him. 

Mr. Sherwood, as deeply interested, but calmer than Nan, asked questionsto make sure of the identity of the sleeping passenger. It was Mr. RavellBulson, without a doubt. 

"And about the negro?" he asked the girl. "Describe him. "

But all Jennie could say was that he was a big, burly fellow with a long, long nose. 

"An awfully long nose for a colored person, " said Jennie. "He frightenedme so, I don't remember much else about him--and I'm no scare-cat, either. You ask any of the directors I have worked for during the pasttwo years. If I only had a pretty face like your Nan, here, Mr. Sherwood, they'd be giving me the lead in feature films--believe me!"

The mystery of how the negro got into the locked car was explained whenMr. Sherwood chanced to remember that the porter of the coach in which hehad ridden from Chicago that night answered the description Jennie Albertgave of the person who had robbed Mr. Bulson. 

"I remember that nose!" declared Mr. Sherwood, with satisfaction. "Nowwe'll clear this mystery up. You have given me a key, Miss Jennie, towhat was a very hard lock to open. "

This proved to be true. Mr. Sherwood went to his conference with theautomobile people with a lighter heart. On their advice, he told thestory to the police and the description of the negro porter wasrecognized as that of a man who already had a police record--one"Nosey" Thompson. 

This negro had obtained a position with the sleeping car company under afalse name and with fraudulent recommendations. 

These facts Nan, at least, did not learn till later; she ran off to theskating rink, secure in the thought that her father's trouble with Mr. Ravell Bulson was over. She hoped she might never see that grouchy fatman again. But Fate had in store for her another meeting with thedisagreeable Mr. Bulson, and this fell out in a most surprising way. 

When Nan was almost in sight of the building where she expected to joinher friends on skates, there sounded the sudden clangor of fire-truckwhistles, and all other traffic halted to allow the department machinesto pass. A taxi-cab crowded close in to the curb where Nan had halted, just as the huge ladder-truck, driven by its powerful motor, swung aroundthe corner. 

Pedestrians, of course, had scattered to the sidewalks; but the wheels ofthe ladder-truck skidded on the icy street and the taxi was caught aglancing blow by the rear wheel of the heavier vehicle. 

Many of the onlookers screamed warnings in chorus; but all to no avail. Indeed, there was nothing the driver of the cab could have done to avertthe catastrophe. His engine was stopped and there was no possibility ofescape with the car. 

Crash! the truck-wheel clashed against the frail cab, and the lattervehicle was crushed as though made of paper. The driver went out on hishead. Screams of fear issued from the interior of the cab as it went overin a heap of wreckage and the ladder-truck thundered on. 

Nan saw a fat face with bulging eyes set in it appear at the window ofthe cab. She was obliged to spring away to escape being caught in thewreck. But she ran back instantly, for there were more than the owner ofthe fat face in the overturned taxi. 

With the sputtering of the fat man there sounded, too, a shrill, childishscream of fear, and a wild yelp of pain--the latter unmistakably from acanine throat. Amid the wreckage Nan beheld a pair of blue-stockingedlegs encased in iron supports; but the dog wriggled free. 

"Hey! Hey!" roared the fat man. "Help us out of this. Never mind thatdriver. He ought to have seen that thing coming and got out of the way. Hey! Help us out, I say. "

Nobody seemed to be paying much attention to the fat and angry citizen;nor would Nan have heeded him had it not been for the appeal of those twoblue-stockinged legs in the iron braces. 

The fat man was all tangled up in the robes and in the broken fittingsof the cab. He could do nothing for himself, let alone assist in therescue of the owner of the crippled little limbs. The dog, dartingabout, barked wildly. 

As Nan stooped to lift the broken cab door off the apparently injuredboy, the dog--he was only a puppy--ran yapping at her in a fever ofapprehension. But his barking suddenly changed to yelps of joy as heleaped on Nan and licked her hands. 

"Why, Buster!" gasped the girl, recognizing the little spaniel that sheand Bess Harley had befriended in the snow-bound train. 

She knew instantly, then, whose was the fat and apoplectic face; but shedid not understand about the legs in the cruel looking iron braces untilshe had drawn a small and sharp-featured lad of seven or eight years ofage from under the debris of the taxi-cab. 

"Jingo! Look at Pop!" exclaimed the crippled boy, who seemed not to havebeen hurt at all in the accident. 

Mr. Ravell Bulson was trying to struggle out from under the cab. And tohis credit he was not thinking of himself at this time. 

"How's Junior?" he gasped. "Are you hurt, Junior?"

"No, Pop, I ain't hurt, " said the boy with the braces. "But, Jingo! youdo look funny. "

"I don't feel so funny, " snarled his parent, finally extricating himselfunaided from the tangle. "Sure you're not hurt, Junior?"

"No, I'm not hurt, " repeated the boy. "Nor Buster ain't hurt. And seethis girl, Pop. Buster knows her. "

Mr. Ravell Bulson just then obtained a clear view of Nan Sherwood, against whom the little dog was crazily leaping. The man scowled and inhis usual harsh manner exclaimed:

"Call the dog away, Junior. If you're not hurt we'll get another caband go on. "

"Why, Pop!" cried the lame boy, quite excitedly. "That pup likes her awhole lot. See him? Say, girl, did you used to own that puppy?"

"No, indeed, dear, " said Nan, laughing. "But he remembers me. "

"From where?" demanded the curious Ravell Bulson, Jr. 

"Why, since the time we were snow-bound in a train together. "

"Oh! when was that?" burst out the boy. "Tell me about it snow-bound in asteam-car train? That must have been jolly. "

"Come away, Junior!" exclaimed his father. "You don't care anything aboutthat, I'm sure. "

"Oh, yes I do, Pop. I want to hear about it. Fancy being snow-bound in asteam-car train!"

"Come away, I tell you, " said the fat man, again scowling crossly at Nan. "You don't want to hear anything that girl can tell you. Come away, now, "he added, for a crowd was gathering. 

"Do wait a minute, Pop, " said Junior. The lame boy evidently was used tobeing indulged, and he saw no reason for leaving Nan abruptly. "See thedog. See Buster, will you? Why, he's just in love with this girl. "

"I tell you to come on!" complained Mr. Bulson, Senior. He was really aslave to the crippled boy's whims; but he disliked being near NanSherwood, or seeing Junior so friendly with her. "You can't know thatgirl, if the dog does, " he snarled. 

"Why, yes I can, Pop, " said the lame boy, with cheerful insistence. "AndI want to hear about her being snowed up in a train with Buster. "

"Your father can tell you all about it, " Nan said, kindly, not wishing tomake Mr. Bulson any angrier. "He was there in the snowed-up train, too. That's how I came to be acquainted with your little dog. He was with yourfather on the train. "

"Why, Pop!" cried the eager boy. "You never told me a word about it. Andyou must know this girl. "

Mr. Ravell Bulson only grunted and scowled. 

"What's your name, girl?" cried the boy, curiously. 

"I am Nan Sherwood, " the girl said, kissing him and then giving him agentle push toward his father's outstretched and impatient hand. "If Idon't see you again I shall often think of you. Be good to Buster. "

"You must tell me about being snowed up, Pop, " urged little Junior, asNan turned away. "And I like that girl. "

"That isn't much to tell--and _I_ don't like her--nor any of her name, "snapped Mr. Bulson. 

"But you'll tell me about the snowed-up train?"

"Yes, yes!" cried his father, impatiently, anxious to get his lame sonaway from Nan's vicinity. "I'll tell you all about it. "

Nan was quite sure that the fat man would be ashamed to give his littleson the full particulars of his own experience on the stalled train. Thelittle chap, despite his affliction, was an attractive child and seemedto have inherited none of his father's unhappy disposition. 

"Good bye, Nan Sherwood!" he cried after the girl. "Come, Buster! Come, Buster! My, Pop! Buster likes that girl!"

"Well, I don't, " declared the fat man, still scowling at Nan. 

"Don't you?" cried Junior. "That's funny. I like her, and Buster likesher, and you don't, Pop. I hope I'll see you again, Nan Sherwood. "

His father almost dragged him away, the spaniel, on a leash, cavortingabout the lame boy. Nan was amazed by the difference in the behavior ofMr. Bulson and his afflicted son. 

"And won't he be surprised when he learns that it wasn't Papa Sherwood, after all, but that wicked negro porter, who stole his wallet and watch?"Nan mused. "I hope they find the man and punish him. But--it really doesseem as though Mr. Bulson ought to be punished, too, for making my fatherso much trouble. "

Later "Nosey" Thompson _was_ captured; but he had spent all Mr. Bulson'smoney in a drunken spree, and while intoxicated had been robbed of thewatch. So, in the end, the quarrelsome fat man, who had so maligned Mr. Sherwood and caused him so much trouble, recovered nothing--not even hislost temper. 

"Which must be a good thing, " was Bess Harley's comment. "For if I had atemper like his, I'd want to lose it--and for good and all!"

"But there must be some good in that fat man, " Nan said, reflectively. 

"Humph! Now find some excuse for _him_, Nan Sherwood!" said her chum. 

"No. Not an excuse. He maligned Papa Sherwood and I can't forgive him. But his little boy thinks the world of him, I can see; and Mr. Bulson isvery fond of the little boy--'Junior, ' as he calls him. "

"Well, " quoth Bess, "so does a tiger-cat love its kittens. He's a gouty, grumpy old fellow, with an in-growing grouch. I couldn't see a mite ofgood in him with a spyglass. "

Her chum laughed heartily at that statement. "Well, let us hope he willkeep so far away from us after this that we will have to use a spyglassto see him at all. "

"And there's another person who can stay away from us, " said Bess, suddenly. 

"Who's that?" queried Nan, looking up at the change in Bess' voice. 

"Linda Riggs. She's coming this way, " Bess said, tartly. 

This conversation occurred in the skating rink, and while Nan was havingher skates strapped on by an attendant, for Walter Mason was not at themoment in sight. 

The haughty daughter of the railroad president evidently proposedspeaking with the chums from Tillbury. They had not seen her since therunaway and more than once Nan had wondered just what attitude Lindawould take when they again met. 

For Nan's part, she would rather not have met the rich girl at all. Shehad no particular ill-feeling toward her now; although time was whenLinda had done all in her power to hurt Nan's reputation--and that not sovery long past. But having actually helped to save the girl's life, NanSherwood could not hold any grudge against Linda. Bess, on the otherhand, bristled like an angry dog when she saw Linda approach. 

Linda came skating along warily, and arrived at the chums' bench by aseries of graceful curves. She was rather a good skater, but more showythan firm on her skates. 

"Oh, girls! I'm awful glad to see you, " Linda cried, boisterously--andthat boisterousness doubtless was assumed to cover her naturalembarrassment at meeting again the girl whom she had so injured. "Ididn't have time, " pursued Linda, hurriedly, "the other day, to thank youproperly--or Walter--for helping me out of that sleigh. I _was_ scared. "

"I should think you would have been, " Bess said, rather grimly. "I'm sureI thought you would never get out of it alive. "

"Well, " repeated Linda, more doubtfully, for Nan had remained silent, "Iwanted to thank you for what you did for me. "

"You needn't thank me, " said Bess, sharply. "For I didn't do a thing. "

"Well, Nan Sherwood did, I s'pose, " Linda observed, her color rising. 

"You are heartily welcome if you think you need to thank me, Linda, " Nansaid, quietly. "But Walter really did it all. "

"Of course!" said Linda, tossing her head, for Bess' manner had raspedthe rich girl, "I know it took Walter to do it. But I presumed you girlsexpected to be thanked, too, " and she turned sharply away. 

"Oh, Bess! we ought not to have spoken as we did, " murmured Nan, contritely. 

"Pooh! Let her go. Mean old thing!" exclaimed Bess. "And you didn't sayanything to get her mad. Crocodile tears! what did I tell you? LindaRiggs is a regular cat--"

"Both cat and crocodile?" giggled Nan. "Your natural history, Bess, honey, must be slightly twisted. "

"I've about got that girl's number, just the same, " said Bess, slangily. "You wait, Nan. She'll be just as mean when we get to Lakeview Hall asever she was. Mark my word. "

"All right, Worthy Prophetess, " said Nan, seriously. "I mark thee well. But I am afraid we are in the wrong this time. We should have encouragedher attempt to be grateful. "

She had no idea--nor had Nan Sherwood herself--that it lay within Linda'spower, if it did in her wish, to injure Nan further. But Fate weavesstrange webs of ordinary circumstances and that very evening Nan Sherwoodcame in close contact with Linda Riggs again, and the incident savored ofa new peril, as keen as it was unexpected. 

Walter was a minute late at the dinner table that night and as he slidinto his seat beside Nan, after excusing himself to his mother andreceiving her absolution in a smile, he whispered to Nan:

"What's 'on' for after dinner?"

"I really do not know of anything, Walter, " she replied, smiling. "Don'tyou suppose we girls ever want to keep quiet? This visit to your househas been one continual round of pleasure--"

"Yes. You get _your_ pleasure out of rescuing kids from the street, chasing runaway horses, hunting for runaway girls, and playing Sister ofCharity to sick people. Say! your idea of pleasure, Nan Sherwood, issimply funny. Now, I've got something on for this evening, if you, andBess, and Grace--and the kid, of course--want to go. But no crowd. Myexchequer will not stand it. 

"I'm running low in funds and father won't let _me_ overdraw myallowance, although he lets Grace do it almost every month. He says agirl hasn't any head for figures, anyway, and she's to be excused. "

"Oh, my!" gasped Nan. "That maligns the sex. I ought not to allow that, Walter Mason. "

"Huh!" returned the boy, grinning. "Grace doesn't mind how much the sexis maligned, I warrant, as long as father hands her out an extra fivewhenever she runs short. "

"But you haven't told me what the scheme is for this evening, " Nanreminded him. 

"Movies, " Walter said. "There's a dandy new theatre opened on HalliburtonStreet. It isn't far, and mother approves of the class of pictures theyrun. There are going to be some funny ones shown to-night, too. I'llstand treat for you girls--but no more. "

"Dear me, Walter, " cried Nan. "You spend all your money on us girls. "

"It couldn't go in a better cause, " retorted the generous boy, stoutly. 

Permission for the evening's outing was easily obtained, and thequintette of pleasure-seeking young folk hurried away immediately afterdinner, so as to see the first show and get home early. Little Inez wasas eager and excited as she could be over the prospect of seeing a realmovie show. 

"I seen some pictures once in a dance hall where a man let me sell meflowers, " she explained. "But, I never dared spend a nickel for no show. Me aunt would have scalped me--sure she would!"

Mr. Sherwood had seen Inez's aunt that afternoon, at his littledaughter's request, and found that the woman dared make no objection asto their disposal of the child. In fact, she seemed a good deal relievedthat kind friends had been raised for Inez. 

The party arrived at the new picture palace to find a goodly crowdalready assembled at the entrance. On this opening night there was a gooddeal of local interest shown, and the first picture was being finishedwhen Nan Sherwood and her friends crowded into their seats. 

"That's a good picture, I warrant, " Walter said. "We want to stay and seethat run over again. Ah-ha! here comes a Keynote Comedy. That will be afunny one, sure. "

"I like to laugh, " announced Inez, with her most serious air. "But Iain't never had much time for it. "

"You poor little mite, " said Bess. "I should say you hadn't. But you'lllaugh all right when you get home with us to Tillbury. Won't she, Nan?"

"Of course she will, " agreed Nan, squeezing the little one close to her. 

They did not, however, laugh much at the picture which followed. Thereels did not seem to run very evenly. Either the operator was not anexperienced one or there was something the matter with the machine. Theflash-card, "Wait a minute, please, " appeared so frequently on the screenthat the audience began to murmur, and some got up and went out. 

There were others ready to take their places, and this continual changingof positions in the half-darkness of the house made a confusion that washard to bear. 

Nan and her friends moved over against the wall and another party camerustling in to take the seats in that row nearest to the aisle. Not untilthis crowd was seated did the party from the Mason house realize that itwas anybody whom they knew. 

Then Pearl Graves' rather loud voice broke in upon Nan and Walter'swhispered conversation:

"Why! see who's here?" she cried. "Hullo, Walter Mason. Who's that you'vegot with you? Nan Sherwood, I'll be bound. And Grace, and Bess Harley. Hullo, girls! Is the show any good?"

"For goodness' sake!" interposed the sharp voice of the girl on the otherside of Pearl. "Can't we go anywhere without running up against that NanSherwood and her crowd?"

"Oh, you be still, Linda!" laughed good-natured Pearl. "You ought tobe pleased as Punch to see Nan and Walter. Between them they justabout saved your life when Granny Graves' horses ran away with you theother day. "

Little Inez was on Nan's other side and immediately Nan gave herattention to the child, leaving Walter free to talk with the new-comersif he chose. 

"Did you like that picture, dear?" asked Nan of the little one. 

"Hi! I liked it where the fat man slipped up on the soap at the top ofthe stairs and slid to the bottom where the scrub-woman left her tub ofwater. Do you 'spect that was _real_ water, Nan Sherwood? He'd ha' beendrowned, wouldn't he?"

"I guess it was real water, " laughed Nan. "But they wouldn't let him bedrowned in a picture. "

"I forget it's a picture, " sighed little Inez, exhibiting thereby truedramatic feeling for the art of acting. To her small mind the pantomimeseemed real. 

Another reel was started. The projection of it flickered on the screenuntil it dazzled one's eyes to try to watch it. 

"Goodness!" gasped Pearl Graves. "I hope that won't keep up. "

The excited little Hebrew who owned the theatre ran, sputtering, up theaisle, and climbed into the gallery to expostulate with the operator. There was an explosion of angry voices from the operator's box when theproprietor reached it. 

The reel was halted again--this time without the projection of the usual"Wait a minute, please, " card. The next instant there was anotherexplosion; but not of voices. 

A glare of greenish flame was projected from the box in the gallery wherethe machine was located--then followed a series of crackling, snappingexplosions!

It was indeed startling, and there were a general craning of necks andexcited whispering in the audience; but it might have gone no further hadit not been for Linda Riggs. 

It could not have been with malice--for the result swept Linda herselfinto the vortex of excitement and peril that followed; but the railroadpresident's daughter shrieked at the loudest pitch of her voice:

"Fire! fire! We'll all be burned to death! _Fire_!"

"Be still!" "Sit down!" were commands that instantly sounded from allparts of the house. 

But the mischief was done, and Linda continued to shriek in apparently anabandonment of terror:

"_Fire! Fire!_"

Other nervous people took up the cry. Nearly half a thousand spectatorswere seated in the picture theatre and the smell of smoke was in theirnostrils and the glare of fire above them. 

For something, surely, was burning in the operator's box. The danger ofthe inflammable film was in the minds of all. A surge of the crowd towardthe main exit signaled the first panic. 

The outgoing rush was met by those who (not understanding the commotion)had been waiting at the back for seats. These people would not give wayeasily as the frightened audience pushed up the main aisle. 

Those at the sides escaped more easily, for there was an exit on eitherside of the audience room. In the case of Nan Sherwood and her party, however, they were in the worst possible position as far as quick escapewent. By some oversight of the fire inspectors the seats on several frontrows had been built close against the sidewalls, with no passage at thatend of the rows for entrance or egress. 

Bess was next to the wall, and she jumped up, crying: "Oh, come on, girls! let's get out. Walter! I say, Walter! I'm frightened. Let us go. "

Grace was crying. 

Nan hugged Inez close to her and looked to Walter, too, to extricatethem from their situation. But Linda had reached across her cousin, Pearl Graves, and clawed at Walter in abject terror. "Oh, save me! saveme, Walter!" she moaned. "I am _so_ afraid of fire--and in a place likethis! Oh! oh!"

"Shut that girl's mouth!" exclaimed one man from the front. "Stop thatscreaming! There is no danger! The fire is confined to the box, and thatis made of sheet iron. We're all right. Don't crowd!"

The panic had, however, spread too far. 

The mob struggled and fought at the main doors. The police had beensummoned; but they could not get into the building through the mainentrance, and the side exits were toward the rear. Several people wereknocked down and trampled on. A pungent odor of burning filled thetheatre; the crackling of the flames grew louder and louder. 

Walter had his hands full with Linda and Pearl, who had become likewisepanic-stricken. Nan pushed Grace and Bess back toward the wall. 

"Stand right where you are. We mustn't get in that crowd. We'll bekilled, " advised she, holding little Inez close to her. 

"Save me! save me, Walter!" wailed Linda. 

"I wish somebody would take this girl out of the way!" growled WalterMason in much disgust, and far from gallant. 

"Don't leave me!" shrieked Linda. 

People began madly to climb over the seats--and over one another--toreach the side exits. 

"How ever will we get out, Nan?" demanded Bess Harley, with keen faithin her chum. 

"Keep still. Let us wait, " urged Nan. 

But at that instant red and yellow flames burst from the box where thepicture projecting machine was housed. These flames began to lick up thefurnishings of the balcony like so much tinder. Sparks and dense smokewere thrown off and both settled upon the struggling people below. 

"Oh, Walter! Walter! We shall be burned, " cried his sister. 

The boy had never yet neglected his timid sister's cry. He somewhatrudely pushed Linda away and reached across Nan and Inez to seizeGrace's hand. 

"Pluck up your courage, Sis!" he cried, his voice rising cheerfully abovethe turmoil. "We'll get out all right. "

"But _how_?" demanded Bess, in great anxiety. "Oh! see those sparks fly!"

"I see, " said Nan, trying to speak calmly. 

"They're falling right on those poor people--do, do look!" gasped Bess. 

There was an open space between the young folks from the Mason house andthe crowd that was wedged into the exit at the head of the main aisle. Upon this mob was pouring smoke and sparks. The flames ate up the buntingwith which the balcony rail and pillars were decorated. The burning clothfloated down upon the heads of the excited people and threatened to setthe dresses of some afire. 

Pearl Graves had actually fainted in her seat. Linda lay across hercousin, sobbing and groaning. The rest of their party, whoever they were, had deserted the two girls. 

"What under the sun shall we do, Nan?" whispered Walter, and Nan read thewords on his lips rather than heard them; for the burning theatre was bythis time a scene of pandemonium. 

CHAPTER XXX

A FRESH OUTLOOK

Nan had already made up her mind what they must do. Despite the spread ofthe fire--and the heat of the flames already scorched their faces--shesaw there was no escape for them by the front door of the building. Andthe chair-backs shut them off from the side exit. 

"Get over the seat-back, Walter, " Nan commanded. "Haul your sister andBess over. I can climb over myself and take little Inez with me. "

"Don't leave us to burn up!" shrieked Linda, wildly, starting up again. Her ears were keen enough. 

"Pearl Graves has fainted, " Walter said, hesitatingly. 

"If we could only break down these seat-backs, " cried Nan. "There arefour rows between us and the side aisle. "

"We _can_ break them down, " responded Walter, and immediately flung hisweight against the back of the chair in which he had been sitting, gladto have some line of positive action suggested to him. 

The boy's second attempt broke the back of the seat short off; it wasbuilt none too strong. He leaped over into the next row and quicklysmashed his way through that. 

"Come on, girls! I'll get you out, " he cried, more cheerfully. 

His sister and Bess climbed through the first aperture. Nan lifted Inezthrough and was about to follow, when Linda seized upon her jacket. 

"You let me get out, Nan Sherwood!" she commanded, trying to pull Nanback. 

"There is room enough--and time enough, " panted Nan, resisting. "I mustlook after Inez. "

"Let that young one go with Bess and Grace, " Linda said. "Somebody's gotto help me with Pearl. The silly has fainted. "

Nan saw that this was so. She adjured Bess to take care of Inez. 

"Hi! I don't need nobody ter take care o' me, " cried that independentyoung lady. "I'm big enough to take care o' myself. You come on, NanSherwood. "

"I'm coming, " promised Nan, slipping back to help with Pearl. 

Instantly Linda pushed by and followed the other girls, leaving Nan alonewith Pearl Graves. The girl had no intention of helping her cousin. 

Walter was smashing one seat-back after another, and calling to thegirls to follow. Bess had grabbed up Inez and now only Nan and Pearlwere left behind. 

The latter was really senseless. Shaking her--patting her hands--rubbingher forehead--all did no good. It seemed impossible for Nan Sherwood toarouse her. 

The smoke came down upon them, thick and stifling. The others of herparty were shut out of Nan Sherwood's view. She heard them calling toeach other, Walter shouting in advance. They thought Nan was coming, too. 

Nan was dreadfully tempted to run. She was as frightened as she could be. She had a great terror of fire; ever since her experience with Cousin Tomin the forest fire, she had shuddered at the very thought of flames. 

And here the heat of them almost overwhelmed her. The shrieks of thefrantic throng at the main door of the theatre died away. She heardthe shouted commands of the police and firemen--then the swish ofwater from the first pipe brought to play upon the flames. But theywere all outside. 

There was nobody near to help Nan Sherwood. She might easily have escapedby herself; but to leave this helpless girl whom Linda Riggs hadabandoned--

Nan could not do that. She seized Pearl Graves by the shoulders andstrove to drag her out of that row of seats and into the next. Althoughthe main aide was now clear, she dared not try that way. Fire was rainingdown from the balcony into the back of the house. 

Pearl was a larger and heavier girl than Nan. Strong as the latter was, and well developed from her athletic training, the older girl would havebeen a heavy charge for Nan at best. Now, with the smoke half smotheringher, and Pearl a dead weight in her arms, Nan could scarcely drag herburden to the opening in the row of seats. 

She struggled to it, however, and got the girl through the first row ofchairs, tearing Pearl's dress sadly in the effort and scratching her ownungloved hands. Nan was crying, too, as she struggled on; she was bothfrightened and unnerved. 

But she stuck to her self-imposed task. She could hear no voices nearher now. Nothing but the crackling of the flames and the crash of axesas the firemen wrecked the partition back of the balcony to get at theseat of the fire. 

There was nobody to help Nan with her burden. A curtain of smoke shut offthe firemen and policemen in the front of the house from the auditoriumitself. The smoke grew thicker back there where the young girl struggledto reach the side exit. 

Walter Mason and her other friends had escaped. Nan was glad of that. Shedid not even question why none of them came back to help her. 

Nan did not know that the moment they appeared in the side alley, leadingback to the rear of the theatre, a policeman with more zeal than goodsense hustled them away from the door and would not let even Walterreturn when he found that Nan and Pearl were not with the party. 

"Ye can't go back in there, me laddy-buck, " declared the officer. "Is itcrazy ye are? Phat's in that the-a-tre will have to stay there, if itcan't git out be itself. Orders is ter let nobody inside. "

"But something's happened to Nan!" cried Walter. "She and that other girlare perhaps overcome with the smoke. They'll smother!"

"Be still, I tell yez, " commanded the officer, putting the boy back withone hand. "Orders is orders. Ye can't go back. "

The situation quite overpowered Walter. He could not break through tohelp Nan and Pearl. His own sister was crying to him and begging him tocome out of danger. Bess was screaming for Nan. Linda stood by, shakingwith terror and cold. She doubtless realized that she had been the causeof the catastrophe. 

And then, suddenly, little Inez broke away from Bess's restraining hand, and darted toward the exit, out of which the smoke was now pouring. Walter sprang forward again, too. The police officer caught the boy witha strong hand and hurled him back with an emphatic word; but Inez ranright between the officer's legs!

"Now, drat that young'un!" ejaculated the policeman, as Inez completelyescaped him and disappeared under the pall of smoke. 

"Oh, Inez! Come back! You'll be smothered!" shrieked Grace. 

If the child heard this cry she paid no attention. Fearless and wild, shewas too used to having her own way to obey now. And, besides, in her ownqueer, half-tamed way, she loved Nan Sherwood. 

Being so tiny, Inez was less affected by the smoke than those who weretaller. The blundering policeman who essayed to follow her into thedoorway, came staggering back, choking and blinded. Walter himself, springing forward when he thought the way was clear, was met by therolling volume of pungent smoke, which filled his lungs and stifled him. 

"Come back! Come back, Walter!" wailed his sister. 

With smarting throat and tearful eyes the boy obeyed--not because hewanted to. The heat and smoke overpowered him. The policeman was stillchoking and gasping. 

Then, of a sudden, Bess Harley emitted an excited cheer. "Here they are!Hooray!" she shrieked. 

Out of the doorway plunged little Inez, one arm over her eyes to defendthem from the stinging smoke; one hand pulling at Nan's jacket, to guideher; for Nan came stumbling backward from the burning theatre, draggingPearl Graves with her. 

Both girls fell on the flagging as they reached the alley. The policemanand Walter raised Nan quickly. She did not lose consciousness; but shewas scorched and breathless. Pearl, however, had not recovered her sensesat all from the moment the shock had made her faint. 

"She's--she's safe!" gasped Nan. "I covered her face so she should notbreathe the smoke. "

"And you're safe--you dear!" cried Bess, hugging her. 

"And what a little trump that kid is, " cried Walter, taking Inez by theshoulders and lifting her suddenly into his arms. He implanted a kiss onthe child's smooched face, and put Inez down, laughing, when shestruggled and cried out. 

"Say, you're too fresh, you are, " declared Inez. "Who told you you couldkiss me? I don't like boys--much--anyway. "

This made the other girls laugh. Walter aided Nan out of the alley. Thepoliceman carried Pearl out into the back street and to the nearest drugstore. There she was revived, and Linda telephoned for a taxi-cab totake them both home. 

The rich girl had little to say to the Masons, or Nan and Bess. Andcertainly the four friends said nothing to her. They were convinced thatthere would have been no panic in the theatre had it not been for LindaRiggs; and her treatment of her own cousin had disgusted them all. 

When Pearl had revived, being still very sick, the druggist gave her somemedicine and then Linda took her home in the cab. Pearl knew, however, who had saved her from the fire. Bess Harley saw to it that there was nomistake about that. 

"And we both owe our escape, I verily believe, to little Inez, " Nansaid, laughing, and stroking the head of the waif fondly. "The dearlittle thing came right inside and found us in the smoke. I was almostout of breath. "

Pearl was quietly grateful to Nan, however, and she kissed Inez. When shewent away in the cab Nan's hand was the last she touched, and Nan knewthat she had made a friend for life of Pearl Graves. Nan refused to allowthe Masons or Bess to talk of the matter. They all walked home, and bythe time they reached the Mason house were all more quiet and able toappear before Mrs. Mason as though nothing extraordinary had happened. 

It was not until the next morning at breakfast time, indeed, thatWalter's and Grace's parents learned of the fire in the new theatre. Notmuch damage had been done the house; but several people had been hurt;and the escape of Walter and his party had been really miraculous. 

"Goodness me!" sighed Mrs. Mason. "I shall be afraid to have you youngfolk out of my sight for the remainder of this vacation. What scrapes youmanage to get into!"

These busy winter holidays were drawing to a close, however. Grace andWalter Mason and their two visitors, as well as all of theirneighborhood friends, who had occupied themselves most enjoyably and ina dozen different ways, were now scattering for the latter half of theschool year. 

Nan did not see Linda Riggs again while she remained in Chicago. Immediately following the fire in the picture theatre, the railroadpresident's daughter went home. How she really felt toward Nan, thelatter did not know; nor did this uncertainty bother her much. 

Now that her father's trouble with Mr. Ravell Bulson was cleared up, Nandid not worry over anything but the seemingly total disappearance of therunaways, Sallie and Celia or, as they preferred to be known, LolaMontague and Marie Fortesque. 

Mr. Sherwood was still in town to settle matters with the automobilecompany, and would return to Tillbury with Nan and Bess and Inez. Walterand Grace tried to crowd into the last forty-eight hours of the chums'stay all the good times possible, and the second night before Nan andBess were to go home, a masquerade party was arranged at the Mason home. Of course, Mrs. Mason was the chief "patroness" of the affair andsuperintended the arrangements herself. So it was bound to be a success. 

Nan needed some ribbons and a new pair of gloves at the last minute, andshe ran out to get them herself. Trying shop after shop, just as thestreet lights were beginning to glimmer, she wandered some blocks awayfrom the Mason house. 

She reached a corner where there was a brilliantly lighted bakery besidea narrow and dark alley. Nan was looking for a shop where gloves weresold, not for a bakery; but some people coming out of the shop jostledher. She did not give the little group a second glance as they set off ontheir several ways from the bakeshop door. 

Suddenly, she heard a voice say: "Oh, Sallie! they smell so good. I am ashungry as I can be. "

Nan fairly jumped. She wheeled quickly to see two girls--one quite talland pretty, after a fashion--standing with a bag of cakes between them. The tall girl opened it while the shorter peered in hungrily. 

"Goodness! Can it be--?"

Nan's unspoken question was not completed, for out of the alley darted astreet urchin of about Inez's age, who snatched the bag of cakes out ofthe girl's hand and ran, shrieking, back into the dark alley. 

"Oh! the rascal!" gasped the taller of the two girls. 

The other burst into tears--and they were very real tears, too! Sheleaned against the bakery wall, with her arm across her eyes, and sobbed. 

"Oh, Marie, don't!" begged the other, with real concern. "Supposesomebody sees you!"

"I don't care if they do. And I _hate_ that name, --Marie!" choked thecrying girl, desperately. "I won't answer to it an--any more--so now! Iwant my own na--name. "

"Oh, dear, Celia! don't be a baby. "

"I--I don't care if I _am_ a baby. I'm hun--hun--hungry. "

"Well, we'll buy some more cakes. "

"You can't--you shouldn't, " sobbed the other, weakly. "I haven't any moremoney at all, and you have less than a dollar. "

Nan had heard enough. She did not care what these girls thought of her;they should not escape. She planted herself right before the two startledstrangers and cried:

"You foolish, foolish things! You are starving for greasy baker's cakes, when your fathers and mothers at home are just sitting down to lovelysliced ham and brown bread and biscuit and homemade preserves andcake--_and plenty of it all_! Sallie Morton and Celia Snubbins, I thinkyou are two of the most foolish girls I ever heard of!"

The crying girl stopped in surprise. The other tried to assume a veryscornful air. 

"Haven't you made a mistake, Miss?" she said. "My name is Lola Montagueand my friend is Miss Marie Fortesque. "

"Sure they are, " said the excited Nan. "I know they are your names, foryou chose them yourselves. But I was at your house, Sallie Morton, theday of the big blizzard--the very day after you and Celia ran away. Andif you'd seen how your mother cried, and how badly your father felt--

"And _your_ mother is worried to death about you, Celia Snubbins; andyour father, Si, who is a dear old man, said he'd give everything heowned to get you back--"

"Oh, oh!" gasped Celia, and burst into tears again. 

"Listen to this, Sallie Morton!" added Nan, rummaging in her shopping bagand bringing forth Mrs. Morton's letter. She read some of the letteraloud to the girls. 

"Now, Sallie, how dare you stay away from a mother like that? You've bothjust got to come with me. I should think you'd have found out by thistime that neither of you will ever be famous as motion pictureactresses. "

"We have!" gulped Celia, plucking up a little courage. "You know wehave, Sallie. That Mr. Gray told us to go back and milk the cows--youknow he did!"

Sallie, determined as she was, was softened by her mother's letter. Shesaid: "Well--if they'll have us back, I s'pose we might as well go. Buteverybody will laugh at us, Celia. "

"Let 'em laugh!" cried her friend. "They won't laugh any harder thanthose folk in that studio did when we tried to act for the movies. "

Their experience searching for work at the film studios all overChicago had taught the two country girls something, at least. They hadseen how poor people have to live in the city, and were going back totheir country homes with an appreciation of how much better off theywere there. 

First, however, Nan forgot to buy her gloves; and instead took Sallie andCelia back to the Mason house with her. When she explained the situationto Walter and sent him out to telegraph to Mr. Morton, the boy laughinglynick-named the big Mason home, "The Wayfarers' Inn. "

"If you stayed here a month longer, Nan Sherwood, you'd have the housefilled with waifs and strays, " he declared. 

Sallie and Celia that evening divided interest with the masquerade party. The next day at noon, however, the fathers of the two girls arrived andtook them home. 

The farmers were grateful--loquaciously so on Mr. Si Snubbins' part--toMr. And Mrs. Mason for housing the runaways over night; but neither couldproperly express the feeling he had for Nan Sherwood. 

Mrs. Morton did that later in a letter, and Nan keeps that much-readletter to this very day in the secret box in which she locks her medalfor bravery. She thinks a great deal more of the letter from the gratefulfarmer's wife than she does of the Society's medal. 

Before Nan Sherwood returned to Tillbury she saw Jennie Albert again, andfinally made a special call upon Madam, the famous film actress, to begthat kind, if rather thoughtless, woman, to take the girl under her ownspecial and powerful protection. 

Inez went to Tillbury and Mrs. Sherwood welcomed the waif just as Nanknew she would. While Nan was absent at school, her mother would havesomebody to run errands and who would be cheerful company for her in "thelittle dwelling in amity. "

So we leave Nan Sherwood, looking toward her second term at LakeviewHall, and about to renew her association with the girls and instructorsthere--looking forward, likewise, to hard study, jolly times, and abroadening opportunity for kindly deeds and pleasant adventures in herschool life.