KANSAS UNIVERSITY WEEKLY.
The Lost Ticket.
3
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"DEAR me! I don't see why our things always have to get lost. Other people's things don't."
Mary Fletcher, her face flushed, her hair slightly tumbled, got up from the trunk over which she had been leaning.
"I have looked through this trunk three times now," she went on, "so I guess the ticket can't be in here possibly."
"No, I guess not," murmured Mrs. Fletcher, calmly abstracted. "You don't suppose it could have slipped in among these books and papers, do you? It is the only place we haven't looked."
"That's the trouble with us," muttered the girl. "We never can find anything." Then aloud rather reproachfully, "but the lost ticket, mother—suppose it should be among those papers?"
“Perhaps, there would be no harm in looking anyway. Mercy!” glancing at the clock. “It’s nearly seven The expressman may be here any minute, and I still have a good half of my things to put back into the trunk. At this rate all my new things will be old before I get started—I handle them so much.”
Mrs Fletcher said nothing in response to her daughter's remarks. She was occupied in reading something in one of the books she was looking through. For some minutes neither spoke. The girl was folding things in frenzied haste, putting them into the trunk. Presently Mrs. Fletcher remarked,
"I don't really believe it is, after all. Besides, now that your father has gone to see about a duplicate, it doesn't really matter, and I can just as well be looking for that paper."
"I thought that while I was about it I might as well look for that article that Mrs. Conant and I were discussing last week. I couldn't find it then."
"It would make a difference about checking the trunk, that's all," the girl observed. Then she fell to work at her packing harder than ever.
Mrs. Fletcher, placidly running her eye over one printed page after another, gave no heed to this last remark. At length, with as much excitement as she was ever known to display over anything, she exclaimed, "There! I have found it. I knew I was right. I shall go and prove it to Mrs. Conant. Will you" – the sound of a bell, brought her to an adrupt pause. "That's the door bell isn't it? It must be the expressman for your trunk. Haven't you got the things in yet?"
"Not quite, mother. Ask him to wait a few minutes, won't you please? I shan't be long now."
Mrs. Fletcher met the expressman at the door with a smile.
"Did you bring the trunk check?" she inquired. "We left word that we wanted the trunk checked at the house."
"No," faltered Mrs Fletcher. "No, we haven't. Is that absolutely necessary? My husband knows Mr Gilmore of the Transfer company, and I'm sure it would be all right if you checked the trunk any how."
"Yes'm," said the expressman, "but I'll have to see your ticket first. You've got your ticket?"
"No'm, I can't It may be all right and then again it might not. My orders is not to check except there's a ticket Them's my orders, an' I got to stick by 'em."
"We did have a ticket," explained Mrs. Fletcher. "We bought it several days ago, but when we came to look for it this morning we couldn't find it high or low. My husband has gone down to the ticket office now to see about getting a duplicate. He is to bring it to the Ferry Depot. You don't think, then, that you could check the trunk here? It would save us a good deal of trouble."
"No'm I can't. I'm sorry, too, for I'd like to 'commodate you. Where is the trunk ma'am?"
"Just come this way, please. We may have to delay you a moment. We were just looking through the trunk for the ticket and haven't got quite all the things back. Mary," raising her voice, "is the trunk ready?"
"Almost," Mary called back. "I wish the expressman would come here and help me close and strap it. Things haven't gone in very well. I guess we shall have to sit on the lid to make it go down."
So Mary sat on the trunk while the man's strong fingers turned the key in the lock. It took only a minute to strap the trunk, and then the expressman raised it to his should r with as much apparent ease as though it had been a small satchel. As he carried it through the front door, the girl uttered an exclamation of dismay.
"Oh, my new party cape. One corner of it was sticking out at the back of the trunk, and I didn't notice it until this minute Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she wailed. 'It's too late now that cape will be ruined."
The expressman disappeared in the darkness, and the door was shut behind him Mrs. Fletcher and Mary made rapid preparations for departure, and soon the door closed upon them also. Twenty minutes later they hurried in o the baggage room of the Ferry Depot, Mrs. Fletcher very much out of breath. She was a stout woman and did not often forsake her customary slow, dignified pace
"I am almost sure, Mary." she was saying between gasps "that I put it into that box. I can see myself just as clearly putting it in. Depend upon it, it's in the trunk after all"
"All right, mother. It will not be very much trouble to open the trunk and look for it." Mary was thinking of the corner of her party cape.
Mrs Fletcher hailed the first busy, coatless man she saw, fairly overwhelming him with explanations concerning the lost ticket, her husband's plans, her own views with regard to the exact whereabouts of the ticket, and various other matters which in her opinion, bore more or less directly upon the subject of the ticket. The man tried to break in two or three times, but failed. Had he known Ms. Fletcher he would have been too wise to try to stem the tide of her speech when she had made up her mind to talk. Finally she was obliged to pause for breath, and the man's chance came.
To this man she again went through with her story, after which the trunk was searched for, identified, drawn to one side and finally, after the necessary preliminaries, opened.
"Iain't got nothin' to do with that," said he. "You'll have to see the baggage master him—over there," jerking his thumb in the direction of a man who, lantern in hand and accompanied by one of the coatless tribe, was making his way about among piles of newly arrived trunks
"Why didn't you say so long ago?" she demanded. And then she swept majestically off in the direction of the man with the lantern.
Mrs. Fletcher bent a stern gaze upon the man before her
"Do you remember where you put that box the last time you packed the trunk, Mary?" inquired Mrs. Fletcher.
"Why, let me see. No, I don't. I was in such a hurry, and I was thinking of other things anyway. It may be in the upper tray or it may be at the very bottom."
"Dear me!" murmured Mrs. Fletcher as she went aimlessly through the trunk over turning small things, taking out large ones, and getting the trunk into a chaotic state generally. "I don't see where you get your careless, heedless ways. From your father perhaps, certainly not from my family. The Greggses all have good memories and wonderful executive ability."
These remarks were uttered with the greatest tranquility. Mary was anything but tranquil. The minute hand of the clock on the wall behind her was moving around with distracting rapidity; her father had not come; the trunk was unpacked. Tears came into her eyes and she wrung her hands, though she said nothing. She knew it would not do any good.
At that moment a great uproar burst upon her ears, and a whole troop of young people bore down upon Mrs. Fletcher and Mary, all talking at once, each shouting something different.
"Oh, here you are!"
"We've found you at last!"
"We've been looking everywhere"—
"What's up?"
"Has the dressmaker sent the outfit at the last minute?"
And so on. Mrs. Fletcher tried to give her explanations for the third time, but was overpowered by force of numbers and had to give it up. When at last she managed to make herself heard she addressed the group with an unruffled air.
"The boat is in. Suppose you take Mary and go aboard. The ticket isn't in the box after all, and I can pack much quicker if I am alone. Mary looks so worried she makes me nervous, and all this talk distracts me."
"All right, Mrs. Fletcher," they answered in chorus. "Come along, Mary."
"That's all we wanted," one added. "We came here expressly to weep over our departing friend, but for about half an hour we were afraid we were going to be cheated out of the pleasure."
The young people were scarcely beyond hearing when Mr. Fletcher made his appearance. He spied his wife at once and hastened across the room to where she knelt beside the trunk, surrounded by trays and various loose articles. It was a warm night and perspiration stood out upon her forehead. A sight of her husband she stopped p occeddings to hear what he had to say.
Mr. Fletcher announced that he had succeeded with very little trouble in getting a duplicate ticket, and that as soon as he had secured the trunk check everything would be all right. He looked a little astonished at seeing the trunk unpacked in the depot, but his astonishment was short-lived Nothing that Mrs. Fletcher did really surprised him.
He hastened away in search of a baggage man and in a very short time returned with one who checked the trunk not yet fully packed. Mr. Fletcher was anxiously urging Mrs. Fletcher to
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