Already she was moving pillows, looking under books, in the corners of chairs, and around the floor. Nan joined the hunt and when Laura, a few seconds later, stuck her head in the doorway, they were both turning the room upside down in search of the keys.
"Say, you two," the red-headed girl began, "They're coming for your trunks next. Be ready. We've just time to catch the train." With this she disappeared.
They heard Rhoda's voice down the hall. "Everybody ready? The bus is coming."
They heard Amelia. "Grace," she called, "Dr. Prescott says to come downstairs. It's time to go." She sang the words out.
But it was not until they themselves heard the chug-chug of the old school bus as it rolled up to the entrance and came to a halt that Nan discovered the keys in the most obvious place of all, the lock of the trunk itself!
Now everything was all right. Bess gave one more look at herself in the mirror. The janitor came for the luggage. The girls took one last lingering look at their room. Then they left.
The next morning they awakened in New York City to one of the most exciting days they had ever had. Everything around them was new, for none of them had ever been to this largest city in the world before. As they came out of Grand Central Station, with porters hurrying after them with their luggage, they were caught up in a rush of people hurrying to work.
"Oh, Nan!" Bess grabbed for her friend's arm.
"Oh, Bess!" Nan exclaimed. "Did you ever see anything like it!" Nan's face was shining. She looked around for the rest of their crowd, caught Dr. Prescott's eye, and smiled. It was all so new and so much fun! Dr. Prescott smiled back. But there was not time to say anything.
They piled into a big car and went threading through the heavy morning traffic, under elevated railway tracks, past tall white buildings, through narrow crowded streets, around big double decker busses, and finally rolled to a stop at the wharves.
There ship after ship was lying in the docks. There were great big ones, bigger than any hotel they had ever seen; little fishing schooners with loose sails flapping in the breeze; busy tugs nosing around; and off in the distance, a gray United States battleship was lying at anchor.