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Authors: Michael D. Beil
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me.”
While the Shoreliner raced westward at sixty miles per hour, Judge Ambrose questioned everyone who had seen Ellie, along with a few others who “looked suspicious” to him. Then, after examining the baggage room and the compartment where the salesman had left the ransom note and other clues behind, he invited Clarence to the observation car, where, he said, he would announce his findings.
Clarence joined Mrs. Strasbourg, her maid Julia, and Reverend Perfiddle in the seats at the back of the train, which the judge and the good reverend had cleared. Sam and I hid in the vestibule between cars, waiting for the judge to turn his back to us. The moment he did, we scampered down the aisle and ducked behind the bar that divided the rear half of the car.
“After investigating this incident thoroughly,” the judgebegan, “it is abundantly clear what happened, ma’am. Apparently, your daughter wandered up into the dormitory area, which is in the car directly behind the locomotive. She was, as I understand it, going there in order to visit the conductor’s
cat
, which remains on board with the conductor—against regulations, I believe. But that is another matter, for another day. The safe return of Ellie Strasbourg must be our number one priority. I believe that this traveling salesman—we don’t know his name yet—was lying in wait for her somewhere nearby. It would seem that he surprised her as she was petting the cat and took her into the baggage area, which is separated from the dormitory area by a kind of cloth wall, with a door that snaps shut.”
Judge Ambrose produced the handkerchief that I had discovered from his pocket and continued. “He then used
this
—soaked in ether, or perhaps chloroform—to subdue her, and then put her into the sample case that he had emptied. When the train arrived in Albany, the porters unknowingly helped him with the case, and off he went. I sent a telegram to the police there, and they’ll be checking the roads between Albany and Dunkirk, but it’s a long shot at best that they’ll turn anything up. The kidnapper has a good head start.”
Once again, Mrs. Strasbourg wailed loudly. “Where would they take her? Will they harm her? There must be
something
we can do. I can’t just sit here and wait—I’ll lose my mind with worry.”
Clarence did his best to calm her. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Strasbourg. Your little Ellie will be fine, mark my words. And the police will catch the people who are responsible.”
With the slimy stub of a cigar clenched in his teeth, Judge Ambrose twirled the ends of his mustache between his fingers. “Yes, yes, indeed they will. But you’re right, Mrs. Strasbourg. We need to talk about what to do next. With the kidnapper and your daughter already off the train, and no police at hand, I don’t see that we have much choice here. We need to make preparations to follow the kidnapper’s instructions and pay the ransom, I’m afraid.”
“Whatever you think is best, Judge,” said Mrs. Strasbourg. “I don’t care about anything except getting my Ellie back.”
“Pardon me,
Mr
. Ambrose,” said Clarence, “but don’t you think it’s a little soon to be talking about that? It’s still a long way to the Dunkirk station, and, well, I’m not sure that all the questions have been answered. I’ll admit that I’m no expert, but there’s still a great deal that we can—and
should
—do.”
“Way to go, Clarence!”
said Sam.
“Don’t let him bully you. It’s your train, after all. He’s just a passenger. A planet-sized passenger, but still just a passenger.”
Judge Ambrose scoffed. “What would you have me do, Mr. Nockwood?”
Reverend Perfiddle, who had been listening intently, lit another cigarette and addressed Mrs. Strasbourg directly. “My dear Mrs. Strasbourg, I’m afraid that Judge Ambrose is right. In times like these, you can’t afford to quibble. I don’t mean to sound callous, but your daughter’s life is
While the Shoreliner raced westward at sixty miles per hour, Judge Ambrose questioned everyone who had seen Ellie, along with a few others who “looked suspicious” to him. Then, after examining the baggage room and the compartment where the salesman had left the ransom note and other clues behind, he invited Clarence to the observation car, where, he said, he would announce his findings.
Clarence joined Mrs. Strasbourg, her maid Julia, and Reverend Perfiddle in the seats at the back of the train, which the judge and the good reverend had cleared. Sam and I hid in the vestibule between cars, waiting for the judge to turn his back to us. The moment he did, we scampered down the aisle and ducked behind the bar that divided the rear half of the car.
“After investigating this incident thoroughly,” the judgebegan, “it is abundantly clear what happened, ma’am. Apparently, your daughter wandered up into the dormitory area, which is in the car directly behind the locomotive. She was, as I understand it, going there in order to visit the conductor’s
cat
, which remains on board with the conductor—against regulations, I believe. But that is another matter, for another day. The safe return of Ellie Strasbourg must be our number one priority. I believe that this traveling salesman—we don’t know his name yet—was lying in wait for her somewhere nearby. It would seem that he surprised her as she was petting the cat and took her into the baggage area, which is separated from the dormitory area by a kind of cloth wall, with a door that snaps shut.”
Judge Ambrose produced the handkerchief that I had discovered from his pocket and continued. “He then used
this
—soaked in ether, or perhaps chloroform—to subdue her, and then put her into the sample case that he had emptied. When the train arrived in Albany, the porters unknowingly helped him with the case, and off he went. I sent a telegram to the police there, and they’ll be checking the roads between Albany and Dunkirk, but it’s a long shot at best that they’ll turn anything up. The kidnapper has a good head start.”
Once again, Mrs. Strasbourg wailed loudly. “Where would they take her? Will they harm her? There must be
something
we can do. I can’t just sit here and wait—I’ll lose my mind with worry.”
Clarence did his best to calm her. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Strasbourg. Your little Ellie will be fine, mark my words. And the police will catch the people who are responsible.”
With the slimy stub of a cigar clenched in his teeth, Judge Ambrose twirled the ends of his mustache between his fingers. “Yes, yes, indeed they will. But you’re right, Mrs. Strasbourg. We need to talk about what to do next. With the kidnapper and your daughter already off the train, and no police at hand, I don’t see that we have much choice here. We need to make preparations to follow the kidnapper’s instructions and pay the ransom, I’m afraid.”
“Whatever you think is best, Judge,” said Mrs. Strasbourg. “I don’t care about anything except getting my Ellie back.”
“Pardon me,
Mr
. Ambrose,” said Clarence, “but don’t you think it’s a little soon to be talking about that? It’s still a long way to the Dunkirk station, and, well, I’m not sure that all the questions have been answered. I’ll admit that I’m no expert, but there’s still a great deal that we can—and
should
—do.”
“Way to go, Clarence!”
said Sam.
“Don’t let him bully you. It’s your train, after all. He’s just a passenger. A planet-sized passenger, but still just a passenger.”
Judge Ambrose scoffed. “What would you have me do, Mr. Nockwood?”
Reverend Perfiddle, who had been listening intently, lit another cigarette and addressed Mrs. Strasbourg directly. “My dear Mrs. Strasbourg, I’m afraid that Judge Ambrose is right. In times like these, you can’t afford to quibble. I don’t mean to sound callous, but your daughter’s life is
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