as
turning out the luggage. Their boxes were on the platform amid a pile of
suit-cases, bags, and portmanteaux; their extreme newness made them
easily recognizable, even without the conspicuous initials.

"What are we to do?" cried Marjorie. "We'll miss the London train! I
know we shall! Here, Dona, let's take them ourselves!"

She seized one of the boxes by the handle, and tried to drag it along
the platform, but its weight was prohibitive. After a couple of yards
she stopped exhausted.

"Better leave your luggage and let it follow you," said a voice at her
elbow. "If you want the Euston express, you'll have to make a run for
it."

Marjorie turned round quickly. The speaker was the young Tommy who had
leaned out of the carriage window when the line was blocked. His dark
eyes were still twinkling.

"The train's over there, and they're shutting the doors," he urged.
"Here, I'll take this for you, if you like. Best hurry up!"

He had his heavy kit-bag to carry, but he shouldered the girls' pile of
wraps, umbrellas, and hockey-sticks, in addition to his own burden, and
set off post-haste along the platform, while Marjorie and Dona, much
encumbered with their bags and a few odd parcels, followed in his wake.
It was a difficult progress, for everybody seemed to get into their way,
and just as they neared the express the guard waved his green flag.

"Stand back! Stand back!" shouted an official, as the girls made a last
wild spurt, the whistle sounded, the guard jumped into the van, and,
with a loud clanging of coupling-chains, the train started. They had
missed it by exactly five seconds.

"Hard luck!" said the Tommy, depositing the wraps upon the platform.
"You'll have to wait two hours for the next. You'll get your luggage, at
any rate. Oh, it's all right!" as Marjorie murmured thanks, "I'm only
sorry you've missed it," and he hailed a companion and was gone.

"It was awfully kind of him," commented Dona, still panting from her
run.

"Kind! He's a gentleman--there was no mistaking that!" replied Marjorie.

The two girls had now to face the very unpleasant fact that they had
missed the connection, and that the teacher who was to meet them at
Euston would look for them in vain. They wondered whether she would wait
for the next train, and, if she did not, how they were going to get
across London to the Great Western railway station. Marjorie felt very
doubtful as to whether her experience of travelling would be e