Page:Restless Earth.djvu/175

“You should know better than to argue with me, Pat,” chided Buzzy, reaching out and securing the other’s purse. “Are they in here?”

Patricia snatched the purse angrily.

“Please, Buzzy! Leave me alone!”

Buzzy Tennyson frowned in her best professional manner. She held her head upon one side and looked critically at her friend; then, with a dexterous movement, she produced a clinical thermometer.

“Open the mouth, please,” she requested severely. “We must see about that temperature. We can’t allow unruly temperaments here.”

Patricia tried hard to be angry, and failed.

“But—I can’t afford to stay over, Buzzy.”

“You can’t afford not to—unless you wish to complete your journey on a stretcher, my girl!” threatened Buzzy. “The idea! We meet again after three hundred and seventeen years, and you cannot afford to stay over! Give me those checks at once! The town is full of refugees just now, so I guess one more will make little difference.”

“Refugee is the correct term,” agreed Patricia, handing over the checks without further protest.

Buzzy Tennyson glanced at her sharply, took the checks and hurried away.

She returned within a remarkably short space of time, earrying a heavy suitcase in each hand. She was flushed and smiling.

“Would you believe it?” she asked, with a laugh. “The Railway Department dared to argue with me. Me! Buzzy Tennyson! I had to show ’em. It’s going to take ’em an hour or two to sort the mess in the luggage-van. These things were right at the bottom. The handle’s come adrift on this one, but we can fix that. Your other stuff is in the left-luggage office. Come on!”

She led the way to the street. Patricia followed meekly.

“We’ll dive into the tea first,” said Buzzy as they headed for the Square. “Then we’ll cackle about this