The large
russet trunk with the black "H,"--the two linen-cased ones with "Hadden"
in full;--the two square bonnet-boxes,--these, one by one, were dragged
and whirled toward the vehicle and jerked upon the rack; but the "ark,"
as they called Mrs. Linceford's huge light French box, and the one
precious receptacle that held all Leslie's pretty outfit, where were
these?
"Those are not all, driver! There is a high black French trunk, and a
russet leather one."
"Got all you give me checks for,--seb'm pieces;" and he pointed to two
strange articles of luggage waiting their turn to be lifted up,--a long,
old-fashioned gray hair trunk, with letters in brass nails upon the lid,
and as antiquated a carpet-bag, strapped and padlocked across the mouth,
suggestive in size and fashion of the United States mail.
"Never saw them before in my life! There's some dreadful mistake! What
_can_ have become of ours?"
"Can't say, ma'am, I'm sure. Don't often happen. But them was your
checks."
Mrs. Linceford leaned back for an instant in a breathless despair.
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