T 971526940039 Indian Call Girls In Dubai By Call Girls in Dubai

The four Merriweather Girls were assembled at the railroad station where the long string of Pullman coaches stood ready. The girls were starting on a vacation trip to the southwest.

"What's the matter, now, Joy Evans? Why all the tears?" Bet Baxter, her blond hair in disarray, caught the girl by the shoulders and gave her a rough but affectionate shake.

"Oh, let her alone, Bet," laughed Shirley Williams. "That's Joy's good-bye. She likes to weep when she goes away."

"But why?" insisted Bet, her blue eyes serious for a moment. "We've been planning on this western trip all winter. We've thought of nothing but Arizona for months. Tell me why you are crying?"

"Because I feel like it, Bet Baxter," snapped Joy. "It's so thrilling to be going away for a long trip, and when it comes to the luxury of a private car, why it's twice as thrilly." Joy choked as a laugh and a sob got mixed up together. Then making an elaborate but not very polite grimace at her chum, she disappeared into the car that was to carry her and her chums westward.

"There, she's herself again," laughed Bet. "That face indicates that

Joy is happy."

Bet was glowing with excitement. It was her first long trip away from her home in Lynnwood on the Hudson, and the promise of a summer of adventure in the Arizona mountains was almost too good to be true. Or so it seemed to the girl.

Her one regret was that her father was not coming with her. From the observation car she was calling her farewell messages to him as he stood on the platform of the station. Bet was his only child and the responsibility of looking after her and trying to make up for the loss of her mother, was sometimes a heavy burden on Colonel Baxter. There was an anxious look in his face now, although he knew that his daughter would be well taken care of by Judge Breckenridge and his wife, who had invited Bet and her chums to be their guests for the summer.

Anyone but an over-anxious parent would have felt confident that Bet Baxter could look out for herself under any circumstances. Her straight young body had poise and assurance of power and she had a resourcefulness of mind that made her a leader among her friends.

Bet was nearer to real tears than she would have admitted to any one. Back there was her father, the very best chum she had, and to be going away where she could not see him every week-end made a strange catch in her breath.

Shirley realized what Bet was experiencing and stepping to her side, called gaily to the Colonel.

"Hold that pose, Colonel. I'm going to take a picture of you."

Wherever one saw Shirley, they usually saw a camera for she rarely let it out of her hands during a trip, and now as the shutter clicked she said to Bet: "That's the third picture I've taken of him. You'll have those to look at."

"Thanks, Shirley, that's good of you. And I shouldn't feel so frightfully homesick for Dad may come out to see us in a few weeks."

"Oh, won't that be great," exclaimed Shirley. "He is just like one of the boys."

"Doesn't it seem strange not to have the boys here to bid us good-bye.

It's never happened before."

The boys were Bob Evans, Joy's brother, and his chum, Phil Gordon, favorites with the girls and always included in their activities when boys were wanted at all. The week before, the girls had waved them good-bye as they started on an auto trip with Paul Breckenridge.

The girls missed their parting nonsense. It didn't seem like going away at all, without the boys to keep up the fun.

As the train began to move, Bet smiled bravely back at her father and waved until a curving road carried them out of sight of the station.

Only then did she answer the insistent calls of the girls inside the car.

"Bet Baxter, do come here and see this," cried Enid Breckenridge, a large blond girl whose serious face told of trouble lived through that had been too heavy for her young shoulders. Her gray-blue eyes were sad.

Bet was about to speak to Enid when the other chum, a tall dark-eyed girl, grabbed her by the hand and dragged her across the room.

"Look at this, Bet!" Kit Patten exclaimed. "You're missing everything!"

But Bet stood stock still and gazed about her in surprise. This was not a bit like an ordinary train. It gave the impression of a very homey living room in a small house, with its shaded reading lamps and the easy chairs that invited one to their soft depths.

"Isn't it wonderful?" breathed Bet with a happy sigh. "I'd love to sit right there and watch the scenery go by."

But that was only the impulse of a moment. There were too many things to see in this marvelous train. And Kit was demanding her attention from one side and Enid Breckenridge from the other.

Kit won, and opening a door, displayed a small bedroom beautifully arranged and furnished.

"Isn't it just too lovely for anything?" asked Kit as she heard Bet's gasp of astonishment.

"I didn't know trains were ever fixed up this way," Bet was taking in all the delightful details of the room. "I always thought it was a lower berth if you were lucky and an upper one if you were out of luck. Why this is just like a lovely little playhouse. Who will sleep here?"

"This is for mother," said Enid. "She gets the best room."

"Of course she does," assented Bet. "But where do we get put away for the night?"

"In here!" Kit suddenly opened a door and at Bet's look of surprise she went on: "You didn't know there was a door there, did you? It's almost like magic."

And magic it seemed to the girls as they wandered from one thing to another. The electrical appliances in the dressing room!

"Why, girls, we don't know what half of them are for," laughed Bet.

"We'll have to have a maid to show us how to get dressed here." And as Kit spoke a trim little colored maid appeared as if she had heard a call.

"Is everything all right?" she asked looking at Enid.

Bet had always taken the lead and was chief spokesman. She was about to answer when she remembered that Enid was hostess. "Here's where I'll have to take second place," thought Bet. But in her heart she was glad to see Enid in the position of hostess. Her life had been full of tragedy. Stolen from her wealthy parents, she had not known a home or friends until the previous year when she had been rescued by the chums on Campers' Trail.

The car in which the girls were travelling belonged to Enid's father, and the girl was glad to show her friends around the place.

"Here's one compartment with two beds, and opposite is one with three beds," said Enid. "How will we divide up?"

"As usual, I guess, you and Kit and I in one and Shirley and Joy in the other."

When the maid had left, Enid laughingly pushed Kit into a chair in front of the dressing table. "Sit still now, while I curl your hair!" she directed.

The other girls joined the laugh, for Kit's hair was a mass of dark ringlets that clung close to her head. Bet Baxter, with her straight, blond hair always envied Kit those curls, while her own unruly locks were flying out at all angles.

"But do come and see what I discovered," said Enid at last, pulling Bet by the sleeve. "It's a darling little dining room! Why it's-it's…" And Enid stopped because in all her experience she could find nothing to compare with the tiny room which glittered with crystal and silver.

"I do believe that lunch is getting ready," said Joy Evans. "And let me tell you, it can't come too soon to suit me. I'm starved."

"As usual," laughed Shirley. "You're always hungry, Joy. And it's so nice you can eat everything! And still you're thin!" Shirley was inclined to plumpness and had to choose her food more carefully than the others.

As they turned toward the salon once more, Bet dropped into an easy chair and picked up a book.

"Oh, Bet, don't get interested in a story yet! You'll have heaps of time to read before we get to Arizona. Come on, let's see if we can peek into the kitchen. To my way of thinking, that's the most important room on the train," laughed Joy.

"That's what we'd expect you to think, Joy," teased Shirley.

Enid rose and motioned the girls to follow her toward the kitchen compartment, then gave a shrug of disgust as she noticed a sign on the door, "Private."

"Why, the idea," pouted Bet Baxter. "Right on our own car, too! I don't think we ought to stand for it." Then a spirit of mischief overcame Bet. She tiptoed toward the door and shoved it open, bouncing into the room without even looking. The girls watched to see what would happen.

Plenty happened, for at that moment Sam Wilkins, the huge colored cook, was bringing in a large tray of ice water. There was a loud crash. Two glasses fell to the floor, and the man himself almost lost his balance.

Sam's usual smile faded. "Ain't you seen that sign, nohow?" he demanded pointing a long, black finger at the word "Private."

"Why how stupid of me!" Bet tried to look innocent. "Was that there all the time? Imagine me not seeing it!" There was remorse in her voice but a merry twinkle in her eyes that did not escape Sam.

"Maybe you can't read yet," he said, frowning.

Bet bestowed on him one of her compelling smiles. "I'm very sorry," she said with her sweetest accent. "I'll promise never to come in here again-that is unless you want me to see your darling kitchen. I know I'd just love it."