CHAPTER XIX Strange Talk
"It seems to me," remarked Terry disgustedly, as the agent pulled thedoor of the baggage room shut and his footsteps and those of the chaplaindied away in faint echoes, "it seems to me that we just get into onescrape after another. This is a pretty kettle of fish!"
"Or something!" gloomily agreed Sim.
"Can you turn around so you can be sort of on your hands and knees?"asked Arden, ignoring Terry's remark. "Try it. Sim and I will squeezeaway over to one side."
"Oooff!" grunted Terry as she attempted to change her position. "I'malmost over! Don't mind if you get a black eye, Sim. It will only be frommy elbow."
"I shall mind, though, so you'd better fold up your arms. There! She'sover, Arden. Now I'll do it!" said Sim.
Sim accomplished the feat more easily than had Terry, and then Arden didit. All kneeling, they braced with their legs and arms, arched up theirbacks, and tried to force off the nailed lid of the packing case.
"Heave!" exclaimed Arden, having heard this expression used by theforeman of a gang of section men on the railroad near the collegegrounds. "Heave hard!"
All together they raised their backs.
"Ouch! That doesn't do any good! We're in here for the night unlesssomeone comes back to release us!" groaned Terry.
"Rest a minute," advised Arden. "Then we'll try it again. Once more--allheave!"
But the second try only made the box shift a little on its base.
"We must make some noise! Bang on the sides or yell or scream! We mustget out of here!" Arden was getting desperate.
"Hey! Hey!" shouted Terry. "Come back! Let us out! We're smothering!Hey!"
"Hurray! Hurray!" screamed Sim.
"What are you cheering for?" demanded Terry.
"That wasn't a cheer. But I can make my voice carry farther that way thanany other."
"Help! Help! Help!" appealed Arden shrilly.
They listened, their hearts beating fast from fear and the exertion ofshouting. They thought they heard footsteps approaching.
Then, by the rays of light streaming through the fog from the stationplatform, as they peered out of the cracks in the box, they could see thedoor of the baggage room flung open. Near it stood the agent.
"He's alone, thank goodness!" said Sim.
"Help!" cried Arden again.
"Let us out!" shouted Terry.
"Fer th' love of cats, who are you? Where are you?" exclaimed the agent,for the voices were muffled.
"In this packing case! You nailed us in!" answered Arden.
With a muttered expression of great surprise, the agent picked up thesame scale weight he had used to drive the nails partly in, and bypounding on the lower edge of the cover he forced it up, flung it back,and let the rays of the overhead light, which he had switched on, floodupon the three disheveled girls in the big box.
"My sakes!" cried the man. "What are you girls doin' in there?"
"You shut us in," Sim answered, standing up and stretching, as did herchums. "We didn't want Dr. Bordmust to see us, so we hid in this box."
"Then," continued Terry, "you nailed it shut."
"How was I t' know you was in there?" demanded the agent, with muchjustification. "It's a lucky thing, after Dr. Bordmust left, not findingwhat he was after, that I come back here t' make sure I'd switched offthe light for th' night."
"Very lucky," agreed Sim.
"I never could of heard you yellin' once I got back t' my office," wenton the man.
"We're awfully glad you came here. Thanks, so much!" murmured Terry, withmuch relief.
"Where you from--Cedar Ridge?" asked the agent.
"Yes," Arden answered, "and we're in an awful hurry to get back. Suppermust have started," she told her chums.
"I guess so," sighed Sim. "I only hope there's some left."
"We'll explain to you another time," continued Arden. "Come on, girls!"she urged.
The girls, a trifle stiff from their cramped positions, climbed over theside of the box. This time there were no ripping or tearing accidents.The agent stared uncomprehendingly at the trio as they landed on thefloor of the baggage room and shook their garments into some semblance oforder. Then they hurried out, Sim flinging back a perfunctory but nonethe less sincere "thank you," as they pushed past the agent and againwent out into the cold, damp fog.
As they hurried along the platform they heard the agent muttering tohimself:
"What'll them girls do next?"
"Good old air!" breathed Terry as they ran along. "I never thought itcould be so welcome, even all messed up with fog as it is."
"We were very lucky to get out," murmured Sim. "Suppose he hadn't comeback and no one ever found us until years later, when we'd be onlyskeletons! What a scandal for the college!"
"Very cheerful, Sim," replied Arden. "Now we're late again and we shalljust have to dash back."
"I never did so much dashing in my whole life. I'm always running to someplace or hurrying away from it, by golly!" complained Terry. "TomorrowI'm going to take time out and just _sit_!"
"Well, you can't sit now. It's almost supper time, if not already pastit. One more last dash for dear old Cedar Ridge!" pleaded Arden. "Be asport, Terry. I know it was all my fault. But I'll translate your Frenchto make up for it."
So the girls dashed through the pea-soup fog toward the college. Theywent around to the rear door, where they would be less likely to be seen.A few yards ahead of them, as they reached the college grounds, as far asthey could see through the swirling mist, were two dim figures. Arden andher chums slackened their pace.
"It's Henny talking to someone!" gasped Sim. "Compose yourselves, girls.Be very demure!"
"I hope he doesn't stop us," Terry remarked. "Who is he talking to--orshould I say 'whom'?"
"You should say 'whom,'" declared Arden.
"Well, anyhow, I said it," countered Terry.
"I knew what you meant," responded Arden. "But look!" she whispered."Isn't Henny talking to Tom Scott, the gardener?"
"Yes, he is," said Sim.
Composing themselves, the three girls walked at an ordinary pace alongthe shrubbery-lined path that led to the rear door of the dining hall.The chaplain and the young gardener were in earnest conversation,somewhat off the path on the edge of a large round flower bed. Just asthe three reached the two men, who did not seem aware of their approach,the girls could hear the Rev. Henry ask, somewhat crossly:
"How much longer are you going to keep this up? It's dangerous! I don'tlike it at all. I am almost resolved----"
"Just give me a little longer chance," pleaded the other. "I have almostsettled it. I'll see you again."
Then Tom Scott faded away in the fog and darkness, and the chaplain,muttering something the girls could not catch, turned back toward his ownresidence near the chapel.
Now he caught sight of the girls, and turning toward them, and by doingso disturbing more wisps of the swirling fog, he greeted them in his mostbenign manner with:
"Good-evening, young ladies! Walking in the fog?"
"Yes, Dr. Bordmust, we like it," answered Arden, with a great assumptionof innocence.
"Hum--er--yes," mumbled Henny. "Though it isn't good for old throats,"and coughing raspingly, he swung on his way.
"That's lucky!" exclaimed Terry as they hurried on.
"What do you suppose they were talking about?" asked Arden.
"As if we could guess," sighed Sim. "But I know one thing," she added asthey slipped in at the door, "if that agent at the station doesn't tellanyone what happened, we're all right."
"Hello, freshies!" exclaimed a voice close to them. "Rather late to becoming back from the station, isn't it? I was behind you all the way fromthe post office."
The three whirled around. The speaker was Jessica Darglan, smilingsardonically.
"I thought," she continued, "that you three were campused. But that'syour worry," and she brushed past them and went into th
e dining hall.
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