Patricia gratefully; for she had hated to think of staying here all alone for a full hour.

“I never desert a friend in distress.”

“‘A friend in need,’” quoted Patricia.

“Speaking of friends,” interrupted Anne, “what became of the blond youth? I didn’t see him get off the bus; did you?”

“No, but he might have just the same. I was too excited over my bag to think of anything else.”

“He may have gone on to Mendon, but I doubt it. I’ve never seen him before, but he looked to me like a college fellow.”

“Just as I did,” began Patricia.

“You never looked like a college fellow in your life!” retorted Anne, laughing.

“Well, I mean,” said Patricia, flushing.

“I understand what you mean; but, just the same, I am curious to know what became of the boy.”

The time passed more quickly than they thought it would, and both were surprised when a grey bus loomed up in the distance. As soon as it came to a stop, Patricia ran out in the rain to question the driver.

“Did you find a bag?” she demanded eagerly.

The fat, good-natured driver wrinkled up his forehead thoughtfully and then nodded.

“It’s mine,” she declared, with relief. “Please give it to me.”

“Sorry, Miss; but I can’t.”

“Why not?” inquired Patricia, a bit impatiently.

“Because it’s back at the station. I didn’t know whose it was, and we have to turn everything in. Then it has to be identified by its owner.”

At this point Anne, who had been the center of a group of girls who had gotten off of the bus, left her friends and came to Patricia’s rescue.

“Mike,” she said, smiling sweetly up at the big driver, “couldn’t you bring Miss Randall’s bag down on your next trip? We don’t want to go all the way back to town now.”

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