FUN AND NONSENSE
In her impatience Bess Harley thought she had never known a crowd to
move so slowly. Of course all the people on the train were getting out
at New York, for the simple reason that the train did not go any
farther.
At any other time the girls would have been tremendously pleased about
going to New York. But now, with the even more wonderful prospect of
Florida looming up, New York appealed to them simply as a means to an
end.
"It's that fat man at the end," hissed Bess in Nan's ear. "He's holding
up the whole procession. What's he talking about, anyway?"
"Sh-h," whispered Nan. "He may hear you. Are you sure you have
everything, honey?" she added, making a mental count of Bess's
belongings to make certain that her careless chum had left nothing
behind.
"For goodness' sake, Nan Sherwood, I wonder you don't have a record made
of that question and then turn it on every five minutes or so," said
Bess, whose temper was beginning to be ruffled by the delay. "That's
all I hear from morning to night. 'Are you sure you have everything?' I
think I'll try it on you and see how you like it."
"Oh, I'd love it," cried Nan, with such fervor that Bess looked at her
in surprise. "It's this bag," explained Nan, looking down at her own
handsome suitcase. "I'm certain it will be stolen or I'll lose it or
something before we can get to Florida."
"Well, it is an expensive suitcase," Bess admitted, as the fat man at
the front of the car finished his argument with the conductor and the
line of passengers moved slowly on toward the door. "But you never used
to lie awake at night worrying about it."
It was Nan's turn to look her amazement.
"It isn't the bag I'm worrying about, and you ought to know that," she
said in a low voice. "It's what is in the bag."
"Oh!" said Bess, suddenly remembering, "you mean those papers Mrs.
Bragley gave you? Well, I wouldn't worry about them," she added
carelessly. "I don't believe they are really worth anything, anyway."
"Oh, hush," Nan begged her as they stepped upon the platform and a man
turned to look at them curiously. "Please don't mention any names, Bess.
It might make trouble."
"Why, Nan Sherwood, how you talk!" cried Bess, turning to look
curiously at her chum. "You might really think those old papers were
worth something."
"I believe they are," said Nan seriously, as, with bag clutched tightly
in her hand, she started with Bess down the long bustling platform.
"Anyway, I want to do my best to help the poor woman. I felt dreadfully
sorry for her."
"I feel sorry for everybody who isn't going to Palm Beach," cried Bess
gaily, as she looked about her with sparkling eyes. "Oh, Nan, isn't this
a lark?"
"You'd better look out," cried Nan sharply, as Bess stepped directly in
front of a heaped-up baggage truck that was being trundled heavily down
the platform, "or it will be a tragedy instead."
The girls had supposed they had become accustomed to the noise and
confusion of a big city during their visit in Chicago, but as they
stepped from the great Pennsylvania Station on to the crowded New York
street they felt disconcertingly like startled country girls arriving in
the city for the first time.
"Goodness! I thought Chicago was awful," whispered Bess in Nan's ear.
"But this is worse. What shall we do?"
"That's easy," said Nan, taking command of the situation as usual. "Papa
Sherwood told me to take a taxi straight over to the dock and not to
speak to any one on the way."
"Well, I think we'll have our choice of taxis," remarked Bess, with a
chuckle, as several chauffeurs standing by or sitting in cabs drawn up
along the curb espied the well-dressed girls and immediately set up a
cry of "Taxi, taxi! Right this way, lady!"
Looking as if she had been used to riding around in taxicabs in strange
and noisy cities all her life, Nan walked forward, still clutching the
precious bag that held Mrs. Bragley's papers and calmly selected a
brilliant yellow cab whose driver opened the door to her respectfully.
Bess followed, all eyes and ears for the noise and confusion of the
street. Nan gave instructions to the chauffeur, who touched his cap,
slammed the door shut on the girls and sprang to his seat in front.
"I think you are just wonderful, Nan Sherwood," said Bess, when they
were gliding swiftly off through the bewildering traffic. "I was
frightened to death when all those men started shouting at us at once. I
wanted to run back into the station and hide. But _you_ didn't, and of
course _I_ didn't, and here we are!" She gave an excited little bounce
on the seat. "Only," she added reproachfully, "I don't see why you
picked out a yellow taxi. You know I hate yellow."
"Goodness! I didn't even notice the color," said Nan, feeling her
suitcase with one foot to be sure it was still there. "If you will just
tell me what color you like best I'll send a note to the governor and
ask him to have them painted that way."
"How sweet of you," mocked Bess, and a moment later grasped her chum's
arm in fright. "Did you see that?" she cried, as the driver put on his
brakes and they stopped within about two inches of the back of a great
lumbering truck. "I'm afraid this driver is going to kill us before ever
we can get to the dock."
"Never mind, honey," said Nan soothingly, though she herself had been
considerably startled at the close call. "Papa Sherwood says all the
drivers are like that in New York, and yet there are very few accidents.
We must be near the dock, anyway."
"Isn't that horrid?" cried Bess with one of her quick changes of
interest. "Just think, we'll have to go and leave New York before we
have really seen anything of it."
Nan shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
"I thought you weren't enjoying your ride," she said, "and here you are
bemoaning the fact that it is nearly over. Bess, I give you up."
Bess merely chuckled, and a few minutes later insisted upon stopping the
machine while she got out and bought some oranges from a tempting
fruit-stand.
"Now," she said, proudly exhibiting her purchase to Nan when the car was
once more bumping onward over cobblestones toward the dock, "we sha'n't
starve on our trip, anyway. Oh, look, Nan; we're there!" she cried,
pointing excitedly out of the window. "See that thing over there that
looks like something between a cave and a barn with a sign over it? That
must be the entrance to one of the docks. Yes, see the people going in?
And there's another and another. Oh, oh!"
"For goodness' sake, sit still," commanded Nan. "You're spilling all the
oranges."
"My, what a joy killer you are, Nan Sherwood," sighed Bess, as she
rebelliously stuffed the bag of oranges into her already over-filled
suitcase. "What are a few oranges more or less at a glorious time like
this?"
Then the taxicab left the rough pavement and rolled along over the
smooth asphalt. On all sides of them were trucks and autos, with here
and there a horse-drawn vehicle. The noise was something awful.
"Goodness gracious, how different from the quietness at the Hall!"
remarked Bess.
"And how different even from Tillbury," returned Nan.
"What a lot of foreigners here, Nan."
"I guess they come from the ships. The docks are all along here, so I've
been told."
"I wouldn't want to come down here after dark and all alone."
"No, I'd not like that myself, Bess."
"Some of those men look like regular Italian brigands."
"Yes, and others look like Russian anarchists."
Suddenly the machine came to a standstill and the man in front looked
about at Nan and repeated the instructions she had given him to make
sure he had them correctly.
"That's right," answered Nan, nodding. "We must be almost there, aren't
we?"
"Yes, Miss," said the man, as he started the car again. "See that dock
over yonder? That's it." And he swung the machine about in a semicircle
and headed for one of the openings which Bess had described as
"something between a cave and a barn."
"Nan, I never felt so funny before," Bess confided to her chum. "I think
I am going to faint or something."
"And I think you had better not," said Nan, in alarm. "I have all I can
do to carry my own luggage without having you piled on top of it."
"You wouldn't have to carry me," giggled Bess incorrigibly. "I'd ask the
good-looking chauffeur to do it."
"How could you ask him anything if you had fainted?" asked Nan,
beginning systematically to get her things together. "Hurry up, Bess. I
guess this is where we get off. Are you sure----"
"You have everything?" finished the irrepressible Bess with another
giggle. "I was just waiting for that. Look out, Nan. You stepped on my
toe."
"I know it," said Nan calmly. "I did it on purpose."
Nan seized the opportunity to make good her escape, and Bess, following
close upon her heels, whispered dramatically in her ear: "Take care,
woman! You shall not again escape me. Next time I will spit thee like a
goose."
"All right," said Nan, turning calmly to the driver who was waiting for
his fee. "Only wait a minute, will you? I have to pay the fare."