Then she stopped suddenly, putting her hand to her bosom again.

"But I _have_ lost it--the packet," she cried.

"Your money----Ach!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Madam.

"What's that?" asked the trainman. "You lost something?"

"I bet you have," exclaimed Marty. "No girl can take care of money right. Where'd you have it?"

Janice motioned to her bosom. The trainman lowered his lantern and cast its radiance in a wider circle on the platform.

"What's this here?" demanded the boy, and sprang immediately to secure what his sharp eyes had observed lying at the feet of the black-eyed woman.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Marty Day!" repeated the girl. "How did you come here?"]

"Oh! that must be it," Janice said, trying to seize it from her cousin's hand.

"Aw, let's make sure," growled Marty, at once taking the lead in affairs. "Nice way to carry money, I must say--wrapped in a handkerchief! Hi tunket! what d'you know about _this_?"

He had unfolded the handkerchief and revealed--newspaper. That was all.

The black-eyed woman stepped back with a sudden intake of breath. She glared at Janice.

"Huh! Somebody flimflammed you?" demanded Marty, staring, too, at his cousin.

"No-o," the girl admitted faintly. "I--I did it myself."

"You did what?" asked the interested trainman.

"I wrapped that paper up and hid it in my blouse. My money is safe."

"It is!" cried Marty. "Sure? Where you got it hid?"

"Never mind; it's safe," said Janice tartly.

The trainman chuckled as he went his way.

"Marty!" began the girl when Madam broke in:

"You are well engaged, I see," she said sharply. "I will bid you goot evening," and she moved majestically toward the car.

"Who is she?" demanded Marty, following Madam with suspicious eye.

"I don't know," confessed his cousin.

"Say! are you sure you got your money safe?"

"Yes."

"Where?" he questioned insistently.

"It's none of your business, Marty Day," snapped Janice, "but if you _must_ know, it's pinned inside my stocking--so now!"

"Sure," chuckled Marty. "I might have guessed. Most popular national bank there is. Say! we'd better get aboard. Train's goin' to start again."

"You come with me, Marty; I want to know what this means," Janice said, seizing his hand as they hurried to board the train. "How did you get down here? Who told you you might come? Mercy! I can't understand it at all. And that silly mustache----"

"Cricky! I wish I could get the blame thing off," said the boy, touching his lip tenderly. "You mighty near tore my face apart when you grabbed at it."

"It's the most ridiculous thing. Oh! I wonder where Madam went to?" For the black-eyed woman was not in her usual seat. Indeed, her hand-baggage was no longer there, nor could Janice see her anywhere in the car. "I believe she is offended," said the girl.

"Huh? What about?" Marty queried.

"Why, because of that foolish trick of mine--the packet of newspapers.

She thought I had my money pinned to my underwaist all the time."

The boy's eyes twinkled shrewdly. "Huh! maybe," he said. "But you don't know a thing about her. 'Tisn't very smart to make acquaintances on the cars, I calculate."

"Goodness! hear the boy!" gasped Janice. "Sit down here. I want to know all about it---- Why, Marty!"

"Huh? What's sprung a leak now?"

"It must have been you who gave me that lunch!"

"Oh! on the train coming down from the Landing? Sure," Marty answered.

"I knew you'd never think of getting anything decent to eat yourself."

"You blessed angel boy!"

"Oh! I'm a Sarah Finn, I am--as Walky Dexter calls 'em."

"Calls _what_?"

"Angels," said the boy, grinning. "There's one breed called something that sounds like Sarah Finn."

"Seraphim!"

"That's the ticket. Well?" for his cousin suddenly seized his arm and shook him.

"Tell me all about it--at once!"

"Why--er--that lunch I got off'n the cook aboard the _Constance Colfax_."

"Marty! don't tease. I don't care about the lunch now--it was eaten so long ago."

"Hi tunket! and you haven't eat nothing like it since," declared the boy warmly. "You been fair wallowin' in luxury."

"Marty!"