She locked up the trunk with our key, which fitted the lock perfectly,
remarking as she did so that locks weren't quite as useful as they
might be, since other people's keys fitted them. The rest of the night
passed peacefully, and we were so tired out from having had scarcely
any sleep the previous night that we sank to slumber as soon as we
touched the pillows.

In the morning we took the stranger's trunk to the express office and
called for ours. We hailed that six-sided thing of boards and leather
as though it had been a long lost friend and cheered it lustily when it
was set down in our room. We could easily see where the garage man had
made the mistake in giving us the salesman's trunk, for the two were
identical. We opened ours up to see if our belongings were still
intact. It took us a few minutes to realize the import of what we
found. There, apparently, was our trunk, but the things in it were not
ours. _They belonged to the other girls. _There was Gladys's pink
silk crepe kimono; and Hinpoha's blue one; there were Gladys's Turkish
slippers with the turned up toes; there were Hinpoha's stockings,
plainly marked with her name.

We stared at each other with something like fear in our eyes. The thing
was so uncanny. Gladys's trunk had not been in the garage when we
arrived; it must have come after we left; and yet, _the Striped
Beetle had gone on to Chicago ahead of us_!

The thing was monstrous; incredible. Had the fairies been playing
tricks on us? We stood gazing with fascinated eyes at the open trunk
which stood in our midst like a silent portent.