ed 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 in
that trunk, and to tell the truth she wished she had that precious
possession 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--a
whimpering cry that might have been a baby's.

"The poor thing!" cried Nan, darting toward the sound. "They have
forgotten 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 chum
wonderingly.

At that Nan uttered a laugh that was half a sob. "Silly! reach down
that lantern, please. Stand on the box. I'll show you what sort of a
baby it is."

Bess obeyed her injunction and brought the light. Nan was kneeling in
the corner before a small crate of slats in which was a beautiful,
brown-eyed, silky haired water spaniel--nothing but a puppy--that was
licking her hands through his prison bars and wriggling his little
body as best he could in the narrow quarters to show his affection
and delight.

"Well, I never!" cried Bess, falling on her knees before the dog's
carrier, and likewise worshipping. "Isn't he the cunning, tootsie-wootsie
sing? 'E 'ittle dear! Oh, Nan! isn't he a love? How soft his tiny tongue
is," 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's
let 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's
hungry, 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 think
anybody's thought to milk the cow this morning."

"Oh, be good, Bess," Nan admonished her. T