“No, I’m Connie Williams,” the little girl laughed. “Sunny’s just getting off the train now.”
“I’m Jane Tuttle,” announced Jane, who had followed close behind Connie.
Grandfather Gordon gave her long golden braids a friendly tweak, and turned to say hello to Rosemary, Sunny and Eileen.
“And who is sober-face?” he asked, gazing at Veve as she stepped down from the train just ahead of Miss Gordon.
“I’m Veve McGuire,” she told him, not even trying to smile. She was thinking about the luggage check.
Grandfather Gordon gave Miss Gordon a hearty kiss and hug, and then herded the Brownies ahead of him down the platform.
“Can’t stand here getting cold,” he rumbled. “Come on over to the bobsled. I’ll tuck you all under the bearskin robe.”
The question brought Veve up short, and made her feel a little sick in the pit of her stomach.
“Oh, yes, the luggage checks, girls,” said Miss Gordon. “Just give them to Grandfather. He’ll take care of everything.”
Everyone except Veve had her luggage check ready. All the girls were so excited about climbing into the big bobsled that they did not notice, and only Connie knew Veve did not have it.
“Five checks,” said Grandfather Gordon, starting toward the baggage room of the depot. “I’ll have the suitcases in a jiffy.”
Connie fell into step with him. “I’ll go along and help,” she offered.
Grandfather Gordon took such long steps that she had to trot to keep up with him. The air was tingling cold.
“Please, Mr. Gordon,” said Connie, and her breath came out in puffs of white vapor, “there should be six suitcases.”
“You have only five checks, because Veve lost hers. Oh, Veve’s had a dreadful time! She didn’t want the other Brownies to know.”
Connie poured out the entire story of how her friend had nearly missed the train at Albion Junction, and then had lost the luggage check.
Grandfather Gordon gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. “Now don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he chuckled. “We’ll get that bag and no one will be the wiser.”
“You mean you can get it without having a check?”
“Harry Hopkins, the station agent, is an old friend of mine. Come along and point out the bag.”
All the luggage had been piled up on the station platform, Veve’s bag with the others.