THEY'RE OFF
"Ticket--passport--traveller's checks--baggage tags--trunk keys." Nan
checked them off on her list as she put them into her purse. "There,
Bess," she said, turning to her friend, "everything is done, and I'm all
ready, absolutely all ready to go. And you?"
The two girls were standing in their room in Lakeview Hall as Nan asked
the question. They were both dressed in tweed coats and matching felt
hats. Around them stood their baggage, waiting for the school janitor to
take it down to the school bus. It was the day of all days, the day on
which they were leaving for Europe.
Bess looked bewildered as Nan put the question to her. "I--I--I--guess
so. I guess I'm all ready," she answered. "Do you know, I'm so excited
that I hardly know whether I'm going or coming. I can't remember what I
packed and what I didn't pack. I don't know--why, I don't even know
where my baggage keys are!" she exclaimed as she began to look
frantically around the room. "What will I do?"
Already she was moving pillows, looking under books, in the corners of
chairs, and around the floor. Nan joined the hunt and when Laura, a few
seconds later, stuck her head in the doorway, they were both turning the
room upside down in search of the keys.
"Say, you two," the red-headed girl began, "They're coming for your
trunks next. Be ready. We've just time to catch the train." With this
she disappeared.
They heard Rhoda's voice down the hall. "Everybody ready? The bus is
coming."
They heard Amelia. "Grace," she called, "Dr. Prescott says to come
downstairs. It's time to go." She sang the words out.
But it was not until they themselves heard the chug-chug of the old
school bus as it rolled up to the entrance and came to a halt that Nan
discovered the keys in the most obvious place of all, the lock of the
trunk itself!
Now everything was all right. Bess gave one more look at herself in the
mirror. The janitor came for the luggage. The girls took one last
lingering look at their room. Then they left.
The next morning they awakened in New York City to one of the most
exciting days they had ever had. Everything around them was new, for
none of them had ever been to this largest city in the world before. As
they came out of Grand Central Station, with porters hurrying after them
with their luggage, they were caught up in a rush of people hurrying to
work.
"Oh, Nan!" Bess grabbed for her friend's arm.
"Oh, Bess!" Nan exclaimed. "Did you ever see anything like it!" Nan's
face was shining. She looked around for the rest of their crowd, caught
Dr. Prescott's eye, and smiled. It was all so new and so much fun! Dr.
Prescott smiled back. But there was not time to say anything.
They piled into a big car and went threading through the heavy morning
traffic, under elevated railway tracks, past tall white buildings,
through narrow crowded streets, around big double decker busses, and
finally rolled to a stop at the wharves.
There ship after ship was lying in the docks. There were great big ones,
bigger than any hotel they had ever seen; little fishing schooners with
loose sails flapping in the breeze; busy tugs nosing around; and off in
the distance, a gray United States battleship was lying at anchor.
Everyone was hustling about. The place seemed one mad scramble of
porters, sailors, travellers, trunks, luggage carts, and taxis
depositing more and more people all the time. It seemed as though the
whole United States was sailing off for foreign ports. Unconsciously,
the girls huddled together. Dr. Prescott looked anxiously down at her
brood and realized for the first time what a task she had undertaken.
Then Nan touched her arm.
"There, Dr. Prescott," she said, "there it is, our ship."
Sure enough, there ahead of them, riding proudly in the dock was their
boat, the S. S. Lincoln. But before they could reach it, before Bess
could place her foot on the gang-plank as she had been seeing herself do
for weeks past, in imagination a familiar voice cried excitedly, "Here
they are! Here they all are!" and they looked up into the faces of
mothers and fathers and friends who had come to see them off.
Immediately the whole rush of the outside world was forgotten. Nan was
in Momsy Sherwood's arms. Rhoda was kissing her father. Amelia was
assuring hers that her watch was running perfectly. Laura was off to one
side talking to her mother. Grace was telling her folks all about the
trip from Lakeview. Bess was declaring to her mother that she had her
keys--safe. There were introductions all round and then the group made
its way up the gang plank, proudly and happily and a little bit
tearfully.
"Nan Sherwood--Miss Nan Sherwood----Nan Sherwood--" Gradually the fact
that Nan's name was being called sifted through the minds of the happy
crowd. It was Bess who noticed it first.
"Nan, why, Nan, they're calling your name," she tried to get her
friend's attention. At last Nan looked up.
"A telegram for Miss Nan Sherwood," the boy called again. Nan reached
through the crowd for it.
"Miss Elizabeth Harley--Miss Harley," the boy began calling again. So,
one by one, the girls received letters and telegrams, cards and flowers
and books, candy and fruit, gifts and messages from friends in Florida
and Chicago and Michigan and the West where Rhoda lived, wishing them "A
Safe Journey and a Happy Landing!"
Because of all the excitement, it was not until the cry rang out "All's
ashore that's going ashore," that Momsy and Papa Sherwood were able to
warn Nan. "Now," Papa Sherwood said, "Remember, there are--as I have
told you before those at Emberon who might want to do you harm. Some
there have never become reconciled to your mother's having inherited the
fortune. They might try to make trouble for you."
"Please don't worry," Nan herself looked serious as she answered her
father. "I'll be most careful."
"Careful, did you say?" Bess was at her side. "Why Mrs. Sherwood, of
course we'll be careful. We'll all be very careful." Then as she noted
the serious expression on both Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood's face, she stopped
short. Bess looked puzzled. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was
something unsolved that this reminded her of. She tried to remember, but
couldn't. It troubled her vaguely even as she kissed Mrs. Sherwood
good-by. Then she forgot it, for Nan was laughing and smiling and
telling her mother and dad to hurry and get off if they didn't want to
be taken along too.
Next, they were all standing at the ship's rail, waving with hats and
handkerchiefs to the crowds on shore. The ship's orchestra was playing
one last tune. Tugs pushed at the boat. Slowly and majestically, it
moved away from the dock to the harbor and the open sea, carrying Nan
Sherwood and her Lakeview Hall friends along with it.