WHIRLED THROUGH THE NIGHT
Mile after mile, the long train rumbled on over shining rails that fell
away behind and merged in the far-distant sky-line. The first rays of the
morning sun struck on the brilliant metal and gathered up the dazzled
sunbeams to scatter them broadcast over hills and fields and flying
houses. Now and then the hoarse whistle of the engine broke the early
morning quiet, only to be flung back on itself by wood and cave and
mountainside in a scornful shout of mockery.
And still the girls slept on in the dreamless, heavy sleep of tired
girlhood. Of course, not one of the three had had the least intention of
doing anything so commonplace as going to sleep; in fact, the very idea
had been vaguely irritating. Had they not looked forward to this very
thing for months--at least, so it seemed to them--and it was almost
impossible for them to have patience with the idiocy of any one who could
calmly suggest slumber at such a time. And Phil--for it was at him that
this Parthian shot had been aimed--had evinced remarkable self-control,
in that he had refused to argue, but had continued to smile in an
aggravatingly superior manner, which had said more plainly than words:
"You think you mean it, no doubt, but I, who am wise, know what
simpletons you are."
Of course, Phil was right, as they had known in their hearts he would be,
in spite of all their resolution, and it was not until the sun struck
through the little window and dashed upon Lucile's sleeping face in a
golden shower that she stirred impatiently and brushed her hand across
her eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, in dressing gown and cap, she pushed aside the
curtain into the aisle and crept out, meaning to steal a march on the
others. She let the curtain fall with a little gasp of astonishment, for
as she looked, two other curtains moved stealthily, animated by unseen
hands, and two heads popped simultaneously into the aisle. Jessie and
Evelyn looked at each other, then at Lucile, vacantly at first, and then,
as the truth dawned upon them, they began to laugh.
"Oh," gasped Lucile, "I thought I was the only one awake, and here you
two come along and spoil my well-laid plans."
"The well-laid plans of mice and men
Aft gang agley,"
quoted Jessie.
"Stop spouting poetry before breakfast," commanded Evelyn. "You might
wait until I get strength to bear it."
"There she goes! First thing in the morning, too," said Jessie,
despairingly.
Lucile laughed, and, taking each disputant by an arm, hurried them along
the aisle.
"May I ask our destination?" queried Jessie, with the utmost politeness.
"Certainly," Lucile agreed, cheerfully, and then, as no further
explanation seemed forthcoming, Jessie added, with an air of indefinite
patience, "Well?"
"Go ahead, ask all the questions you like," said Lucile, with a twinkle
in her eye. "I'm not going to answer them, though," and, with a little
laugh, she pushed her before her into a little room at the farther end of
the car.
"A-ha, a mirror!" cried Jessie. "Lucile, I forgive all."
"Thanks," replied Lucile, laconically. "Even at that, you needn't take up
the whole mirror, you know."
"Oh, you can look on both sides," said Jessie, serenely.
The girls laughed.
"The only wonder is that we showed almost human intelligence in bringing
our combs along," Lucile remarked, after a moment.
"Not at all," observed Jessie, grandly. "We only followed a very obvious
line of reasoning."
"A very which?" asked Evelyn, turning round with her comb poised in
mid-air. "If you must talk, kindly speak United States, Jessie."
Jessie turned upon her friend a look in which was more of pity than of
anger.
"It is evident," she remarked sadly, "that there is one among us who has
never grasped the opportunity for learning afforded by our present-day
civilization----"
"Jessie, darling," broke in Lucile, sweetly, "if you don't come down from
your soap box pretty soon, I'm afraid we'll have to resort to force. Much
as we would hate to," she added, apologetically.
Evelyn threw up her hands in desperation.
"You're just as bad as Jessie, Lucy," she accused. "I'm going in and see
if I can't find peace. The boys ought to be up by this time," she added,
slyly.
The girls laughed as the door slammed behind her, and Lucile exclaimed,
with a little flourish of her comb, "Come on, Jess; I'm ready for the
fray." And, with arms about each other, girl fashion, they followed
Evelyn into the aisle.
How could they know on that morning, when their hearts were full and
their heads light with the heady wine of Spring, that before three months
had sped, they would feel the strands of the mighty web of nations
tighten about them; that they would see the beginning of the greatest war
the world has ever known? Perhaps it was just as well that they were not
gifted with prophecy, for the grim shadow of war that hung menacingly
over all Europe would have darkened this bright morning and would have
tinted all the hills and countryside with the grayish hue of impending
disaster.
As it was, there was no cloud to darken the horizon of their exuberant
happiness and they gave full rein to their high spirits.
As Evelyn had said, the boys were up when they returned, and they were
not the only ones, for the train seemed suddenly to have come to life.
Voices called merrily to each other from different points in the car, and
everywhere was the stir and bustle of awakened and refreshed humanity.
As Lucile and Jessie made their way through the car, they encountered
several women, apparently bound for the dressing-room.
"It's good we got there early," said Lucile. "If we hadn't, we never
would have gotten a chance at the mirror."
"You're just right," laughed Jessie. "There wasn't room enough for three
of us, let alone a half a dozen."
A moment later they joined a group of their own folks at the other end of
the car. They flung a merry greeting.
"Well, well, girls," observed Mr. Payton, catching sight of the girls out
of the corner of his eye, "we thought you were lost."
"I didn't think so," said Phil. "Evelyn said you might be in there half
an hour if you had good luck, so we didn't expect you so soon."
The girls threw a reproachful look at the traitress, who made a defiant
little mouth at them.
"Well, I had to get even with you some way," she cried.
Just then Jack, who had been trapped into a discussion with some of the
men and had been anxiously watching for a chance to escape, suddenly
finding it, excused himself and joined the young folks.
"What's the row?" he asked casually.
"Nothing, save that we have a traitress in our midst," declaimed Jessie,
dramatically.
"How exciting!" drawled her cousin. Then, turning to Lucile, he inquired,
lightly:
"Did you get any sleep last night, or were the bumps too much for you?"
"The bumps didn't worry me at all," she confessed, as she smiled
whimsically. "In fact, I didn't know there were any."
"How about something to eat?"
It was Mr. Payton who voiced the welcome suggestion, and there was a
prompt shout of approval from all hands.
"You have said it, Dad," commended Phil. "If we start now, we'll get
there before the crowd."
So off went the merry company to the dining-car, where the tempting odors
made them more ravenous than before, if such a thing were possible, and
Phil kept on ordering until it seemed as though the rest of the
passengers would have to go on short commons.
The early morning passed quickly and it was no time at all before Jack
announced to Lucile--for he was never very far from her side--that they
would reach New York within the next hour.
Then, as Jack had said, at exactly five minutes of nine--the authority
for the time being Phil's beloved chronometer, which he declared, and
devoutly believed as well, varied hardly a second during the year--the
train glided smoothly into the station and they reached--New York!
The girls stood with shining eyes and breath that came and went quickly
through parted lips. Then, as the porter shouted in stentorian tones,
"New Yawk--all out!" they moved half dazedly through the crowd and out on
the great platform, where the din half fascinated, half frightened them.
"Stick close together, everybody," Mr. Payton directed. "It wouldn't be
any joke if we got separated!"
Lucile had faced many situations and never turned a hair, but now the
roar of the great metropolis, the rumble of the hand-cars on the platform
as the heavy baggage was carted to and from the trains, the shrieking of
engine whistles, the hoarse cries of the train-hands, all combined in
such a menacing roar that for a moment she had a wild desire to run and
hide somewhere, anywhere to get away from the thunderous din.
It was only for a second, however, for, as Jack slipped a reassuring arm
through hers, she looked up at him with her old, confident smile.
"I'll see that you don't get lost or run over," he said, comfortingly,
with that air of protection that all men, even very young ones like Jack,
love to assume toward girls and women, especially pretty ones.
And it must be noted that from that instant Jack Turnbull rose forty good
points in Lucile's estimation. It gave her a feeling of grateful security
to be piloted through the crowd in this masterly fashion. Soon they had
covered the length of the platform and had reached the curb, which was
lined with cabs and taxis.
"Here, pile in, all of you," Mr. Payton commanded, as he looked around to
see if they were all there. "I guess you five young people can manage to
squeeze into one car. Come, Nellie," to his wife, "you get right in
here," and he proceeded, with the other men, to help the ladies into the
two waiting cabs.
"Pretty close quarters," said Jack, as he slipped into the square inch of
space between Jessie and Evelyn. "I suppose I might have walked," he was
adding, doubtfully, when Lucile broke in with a decided, "Indeed, you
shouldn't have thought of such a thing! What difference does it make if
we are a little crowded?"
"That's all very well for you, Lucy; you're not having the breath
squeezed out of you," Jessie began, when Phil interrupted,
mischievously:
"Why don't you change places? Lucy doesn't mind and you do, Jess."
"You have it!" exclaimed Jack, enthusiastically. "The first minute I saw
you, I said to myself, 'That fellow has brains.' Come on Jess; vacate,"
and he slipped his arm about his cousin, gently lifting her from the
seat.
"Go ahead, Lucy," urged Evelyn from her corner.
So, with a great deal of merriment, the exchange was made, much to the
satisfaction of everyone concerned.
The rest of the journey through the traffic-laden streets to the hotel
was so vivid a panorama of shifting scenes that, to the unaccustomed eyes
of the girls, it seemed like one confused blur.
"Oh, are we there already?" Lucile exclaimed, regretfully, as the taxi
stopped abruptly before the great white pile of the Hotel McAlpin. "The
ride has seemed so short!"
"I wish you were going to stay in New York," Jack whispered, as he helped
her to alight. "We'd get my car and whiz all around this old city until
you'd know it better than Burleigh."
"Oh, if I only could!" she cried, her eyes alight with the very thought.
"Wouldn't it be fun?"
"You just bet it would," he agreed, with a warmth that brought even a
brighter color to her face.
An instant later they were joined by the others and they passed through
the imposing entrance.
In the hotel office the girls drew close together, and Lucile said, in a
voice scarcely above a whisper, "So this is New York!"
"Do you like it as much as you thought you would?" asked Phil,
overhearing.
The girls turned wonder-filled eyes upon him.
"Oh, much more!" they chorused, with a vehemence that left no room for
doubt.