or car is like the rest of the cars in a train, except that the
seats are more comfortable," she explained. "Anyway, we have to go in an
ordinary coach, because Daddy and I couldn't get a single parlor car seat
yesterday. They had all been taken. I don't see what can have happened to
Daddy!"

Just then Mr. Horton came up to them. There was a baggage man with him
and they both looked rather excited.

"I guess you'll have to come over to the baggage room, Olive," said Mr.
Horton in a low voice, "and see what you can do about straightening out
this mess. They want to know what you've packed in the trunk."

Sunny Boy clung tightly to Mother's hand while they walked over to a low,
broad window on one side of the station wall. This opened into the
baggage room, and a perfect ocean of trunks was being tossed about in
there. The pink came into Mother's cheeks as she saw the crowd gathered
about the window.

"You see, Ma'am," said the big, tall man at the window in a gruff voice
that was somehow kind and friendly, too, "it's like this--we figure out
something blew up in that trunk of yours about ten o'clock last night,
and naturally we want to know something about it. In fact, we can't check
the trunk for you until we do. A dozen men heard it, and--"

"But I don't understand," protested Mrs. Horton. "I packed nothing that
could possibly blow up, as you say. My sister and I put everything in
with our own hands. I even have a list. I can show you that--" she
fumbled in her velvet handbag with fingers that trembled.

"Probably an infernal machine," declared a shrill voice in the crowd that
was now growing too large for comfort. "With the country in the unsettled
state it is now, you can look for anything."

"What's a 'fernal 'chine?" asked Sunny Boy boldly.

"Like a bomb--it goes off with a whang," answered a freckle-faced boy
standing near. He reminded Sunny of his friend, the grocery boy.

The words, "Goes off with a whang," reminded Sunny Boy of something,
though. He looked up into the friendly blue eyes of the baggage-window
man.

"Maybe--" began Sunny Boy, "Maybe, I guess it was the alarm clock I
packed!" he finished bravely.

"Well, I'll be hanged!" said the baggage-window man. His blue eyes
crinkled.

The crowd had heard, and a ripple of laughter ran through them. As
suddenly as they had gathered, they melted away.

"Let me have your tickets," said the baggage-window man. "I guess you can
still make the ten-f