."

"Where will you be, then, about the first of the year?"

"I'll tell you," Bess cried briskly, and she gave Mr. Carter Mr. Mason's
address in Chicago.

The conductor wrote it down carefully in his notebook. Nan was
impatient.

"Can't you find something among the express packages to help us out,
sir?" she asked. "Canned goods. For instance, a case of canned milk?"

"We'll see, Miss," said the conductor, starting forward again. "At any
rate, I'll let you two girls have the dog."

CHAPTER VII

THE FAT MAN INTERPOSES

The people in the Pullman car, who were much more comfortably situated
than those in the smoking car, or than the crew of the train hived up in
the first baggage coach, were beginning to complain a good deal now. The
colored porter, with rolling eyes and appealing gestures, met the
conductor and the two girls.

"Ah kyan't stan' this no longer, Mistah Ca'tah," he almost sobbed. "Da's
sumpin' got t' be did fo' all dese starbin white ladies an' gemmen--ya-as
sah! Dey is jes' about drivin' me mad. I kyan't stan' it."

"What can't you stand, Nicodemus?" demanded Mr. Carter, good-naturedly.

"Dey is a-groanin' an' a-takin' on powerful bad 'cause dey ain't no
dining kyar cotched up wid us yet."

"Dining car caught up with us?" gasped Nan and Bess together.

"What sort of a yarn have you been giving these passengers, Nick?"
demanded the conductor.

"Well, Ah jes' done got t' tell 'em sumpin' t' pacify 'em," whispered the
darkey. "No use lettin' 'em think dey gwyne t' starb t' death. Ah tell
'em yo' done sent back t' de Junction for a car-load ob eats an' dat it's
expected t' arrive any hour. Ya-as, sah!"

"Why, you atrocious falsifier!" ejaculated Mr. Carter.

"Wot! me?" exclaimed the porter. "No, sah! Ah ain't nottin' like dat--no,
sah! Ah reckon Ah done save dat little man's life. Yo' know, dat little
drummer wot's trabelin' wid de big man. Dey was castin' lots t' see which
one should be kilt fo' to be et by de odder--"

"Oh, mercy!" screamed Bess, and stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth.

"Ya-as, indeedy, Miss! Dey was gettin' mighty desprit. An de big feller,
he says, 'Hit don't much matter which way de dice falls, I'm de bigges'
an' I certainly kin holt ma own wid a little runt like you!' He says jes'
lak' dat to his friend, de littles' feller."

Nan and Bess both hid their faces behind Mr. Carter's broad back.

"Ah got nerbous," pursued the darkey. "Dat big man looked lak'