Anyway, they'll be along first thing in the morning.

Thank you, sir.

Right this way to the carriage.

I'll look after the bags." "Not mine, you won't," replied Tom grimly, tightening his clasp on it.
"I wouldn't trust the President of the United States with this bag.
Anyway," he added as he followed Steve and the driver across the platform to a ricketty conveyance, "not if he lived in New York!" By that time all the other carriages had rolled away, and while they waited for their driver to arrange with the station agent about the trunks they examined their surroundings.

There wasn't much to see.