df.theedge-第22部分

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　the　Lorrimores。
　　There　were　lights　on　everywhere。　I　came　first　to　a　small　unoccupied　sleeping　space；　then　a　galley；　cold　and　lifeless。　Provision　for　private　food　and　private　crew；　but　no　food；　no　crew。　Beyond　that　was　the　locked　door；　and　beyond　that　a　small　handsome　dining　room　to　seat　eight。　Through　there；　down　a　corridor；　there　were　three　bedrooms；　two　with　the　doors　open。　I　took　a　quick　peek　inside：　bed；　drawers；　small　bathroom　with　shower。　One　was　clearly　Xanthe's；　the　other　by　inference　Sheridan's。　I　didn't　go　into　the　parents'　room　but　went　on　beyond　it　to　find　myself　in　the　rear　part　of　the　carriage；　at　the　very　end　of　the　train。It　was　a　fortable　drawing　room　with　a　television　set　and　abundant　upholstered　armchairs　in　pastel　blues　and　greens。　I　went　over　to　the　rear　door　and　looked　out；　seeing　a　little　open　boarding　platform　with　a　polished　brass…topped　balustrade　and；　beyond；　the　Canadian　Pacific's　single　pair　of　rails　streaming　away　into　darkness。　The　railroad　across
　　Canada；　I'd　learned；　was　single　track　for　most　of　the　way。　Only　in　towns　and　at　a　few　other　places　could　trains　going　in　opposite　directions　pass。
　　I　put　the　mink　coat　on　a　chair　and　retraced　my　journey；　locking　the　door　again　and　eventually　returning　the　key　to　Mercer　who　nodded　without　speech　and　put　it　in　his　pocket。
　　Emil　was　pouring　wine。　The　passengers　were　scoffing　the　blinis。　I　eased　into　the　general　picture　again　and　became　as　unidentifiable　as　possible。　Few　people；　I　discovered；　looked　directly　at　a　waiter's　eyes；　even　when　they　were　talking　to　him。
　　About　an　hour　after　we'd　left　Sudbury　we　stopped　briefly　for　under　five　minutes　at　a　place　called　Cartier　and　then　went　on　again。　The　passengers；　replete　with　the　lamb　and　chocolate　mousse；　lingered　over　coffee；　and　began　to　drift　away　to　the　dome　car's　bar　lounge。　Xanthe　Lorrimore　got　up　from　the　table　after　a　while　and　went　that　way；　and　presently　came　back　screaming。
　　This　time；　the　real　thing。　She　came　stumbling　back　into　the　dining　car　followed　by　a　motion　of　people　yelling　behind　her。
　　She　reached　her　parents　who　were　bewildered　as　well　as　worried。
　　'I　was　nearly　killed；'　she　said　frantically。　'I　nearly　stepped　off　into　space。　I　mean；　I　was　nearly　killed。'
　　'Darling；'　Mercer　said　calmingly；　'what　has　exactly　happened？'
　　'You　don't　understand。'　She　was　screaming；　trembling；　hysterical。　'I　nearly　stepped　into　space　because　our　private　car　isn't　there。'
　　It　brought　both　of　the　Lorrimores　to　their　feet　in　an　incredulous　rush；　but　they　had　only　to　look　at　the　faces　crowding　behind　her　to　know　it　was　true。
　　'And　they　say；　all　those　people　say。'　she　was　gasping；　half　unable　to　get　the　words　out；　terribly　frightened　'。　they　say　the　other　train；　the　regular　Canadian；　is　only　half　an　hour　behind　us；　and　will　smash　into。。　will　smash　into　。。。　don't　you　see？'
　　The　Lorrimores；　followed　by　everyone　still　in　the　dining　room；　went　dashing　off　into　the　dome　car；　but　Emil　and　I　looked　at　each　other；　and　I　said；　'How　do　we　warn　that　train？'
　　'Tell　the　Conductor。　He　has　a　radio。'
　　'I'll　go；'　I　said。　'I　know　where　his　office　is。　I'll　find　him。'
　　'Hurry　then。'
　　'Yes。'
　　I　hurried。　Ran。　Reached　George's　office。
　　No　one　there。
　　I　went　on；　running　where　I　could；　and　found　him　walking　back　towards　me　through　the　dayniter。　He　instantly　took　in　that　I　brought　bad　news　and　steered　me　at　once　into　the　noisy　outside　coupling　space　between　the　dayniter　and　the　central　dining　car。
　　'What　is　it？'　he　shouted。
　　'The　Lorrimores'　private　car　is　unhitched。。。　it's　somewhere　back　on　the　track；　and　the　Canadian　is　ing。'
　　He　moved　faster　than　I　would　have　thought　anyone　could　on　a　train　and　was　already　talking　into　a　radio　headset　when　I　reached　his　office。
　　'The　private　car　was　there　at　Carrier；'　he　said。　'I　was　off　the　train　there　and　saw　it。　Are　you　sure　it's　not　in　sight？'　He　listened。　'Right；　then　radio　to　the　Canadian　and　warn　the　Conductor　he'll　not　be　leaving　Cartier；　eh？　I'll　get　this　train　stopped　and　we'll　go　back　for　the　lost　car。　See　what's　what。　You'd　better　inform　Toronto　and　Montreal。　They　won't　think　this　is　very　funny　on　a　Sunday　evening；　eh？'　He　chuckled　and　looked　at　me　assessingly　as　I　stood　in　his　doorway。　'I'll　leave　someone　here　manning　the　radio；'　he　continued。　'Tell　him　when　you've　got　the　Canadian　understanding　the　situation；　eh？'
　　He　nodded　at　the　reply　he　heard；　took　off　the　headset　and　gave　it　to　me。
　　'You　are　talking　to　the　despatcher　in　Schreiber；'　he　said；　'that's　ahead　of　us；　this　side　of　Thunder　Bay…and　he　can　radio　straight　to　the　Canadian　following　us。　You　can　hear　the　despatcher　without　doing　anything。　To　transmit；　press　the　button。'　He　pointed；　and　was　gone。
　　I　put　on　the　headset　and　sat　in　his　chair　and　presently　into　my　ears　a　disembodied　voice　said；　'Are　you　there？'
　　I　pressed　the　button；　'Yes。'
　　'Tell　George　I　got　the　Canadian　and　it　will　stop　in　Cartier。　There's　a　CP　freight　train　due　behind　it　but　I　got　Sudbury　in　time　and　it　isn't　leaving　there。　No　one　is　happy。　Tell　George　to　pick　up　that　car　and　get　the　hell　out。'
　　I　pressed　the　button。　'Right；'　I　said。
　　'Who　are　you？'　asked　the　voice。
　　'One　of　the　attendants。'
　　She　said；　'Huh；'　and　was　quiet。
　　The　Great　Transcontinental　Mystery　Race　Train　began　to　slow　down　and　soon　came　to　a　smooth　stop。　Almost　in　the　same　instant；　George　was　back　in　his　doorway。
　　'Tell　the　despatcher　we've　stopped　and　are　going　back；'　he　said；　when　I'd　relayed　the　messages。　'We're　eleven　point　two　miles　out　of　Cartier；　between　Benny　and　Stralak；　which　means　in　an　uninhabited　wilderness。　You　stay　here；　eh？'　And　he　was　gone　again；　this　time　towards　the　excitement　in　the　tail。
　　I　gave　his　message　to　the　despatcher　and　added；　'We're　reversing　now；　going　slowly。'
　　'Let　me　know　when　you　find　the　car。'
　　'Yes。'
　　It　was　pitch　dark　through　the　windows；　no　light　in　the　wilderness。　I　heard　afterwards　from　a　lot　of　excited　chattering　in　the　dining　room　that　George　had　stood　alone　outside　the　rear　door　of　the　dome　car　on　the　brink　of　space；　directing　a　bright　hand…held　torch　beam　down　the　track。　Heard　that　he　had　a　walkie…talkie　radio　on　which　he　could　give　the　engineer　instructions　to　slow　down　further；　and　to　stop。
　　He　found　the　Lorrimores'　car　about　a　mile　and　a　half　out　of　Cartier。　The　whole　train　stopped　while　he　jumped　down　from　the　dome　car　and　went　to　look　at　the　laggard。　There　was　a　long　pause　from　my　point　of　view；　while　the　lights　began　nickering　in　the　office　and　the　train　exceedingly　slowly　reversed；　before　stopping　again　and　going　into　a　sudden　jerk。　Then　we　started　forwards　slowly；　and　thenfaster；　and　the　lights　stopped　flickering；　and　soon　after　that　George　appeared　in　his　office　looking　grim；　all　chuckles　extinguished。
　　'What's　the　matter；'　I　said。
　　'Nothing；'　he　said　violently；　'that's　what's　the　matter。'　He　stretched　out　a　hand　for　the　headset　which　I　gave　him。
　　He　spoke　into　it。　'This　is　George。　We　picked　up　the　Lorrimores'　car　at　one　point　three　miles　west　of　Cartier。　There　was　no　failure　in　the　linkage。'　He　listened。　'That's　what　I　said。　Who　the　hell　do　they　have　working　in　Cartier；　eh？　Someone　uncoupled　that　car　at　Cartier　and　rigged　some　way　of　pulling　it　out　of　the　station　into　the　darkness　before　releasing　it。　The　brakes　weren't　on。　You　tell　Cartier　to　send　someone　right　away　down　the　track　looking　for　a　rope　or　some　such；　eh？　The　steam　heat　pipe　wasn't　broken；　it　had　been　unlocked。　That's　what　I　said。　The　valve　was　closed。　It　was　no　goddam　accident；　no　goddam　mechanical　failure；　someone　deliberately　unhitched　that　car。　If　the　Lorrimore　girl　hadn't　found　out；　the　Canadian　would　have　crashed　into　it。　No；　maybe　not　at　high　speed；　but　at　twenty…five；　thirty　miles　an　hour　the　Canadian　can　do　a　lot　of　damage。　Would　have　made　matchsticks　of　the　private　car。　Might　have　killed　the　Canadian　engineers；　or　even　derailed　the　train。　You　tell　them　to　start　looking；　eh？'
　　He　took　off　the　headset　and　stared　at　me　with　rage。
　　'Would　you；'　he　said；　'know　how　to　uncouple　one　car　from　another？'
　　'No；　of　course　not。'
　　'It　takes　a　railwayman。'　He　glared。　'A　railwayman！　It's　like　a　mechanic　letting　someone　drive　off　in　a　car　with　loose　wheel　nuts。　It's　criminal；　eh？'
　　'Yes。'
　　'A　hundred　years　ago；'　he　said　furiously；　'they　designed　a　system　to　prevent　cars　that　had　broken　loose　from　running　backwards　and　crashing　into　things。　The　brakes　go　on　automatically　in　a　runaway。'　He　glared。　'That　system　had　been　by…passed。　The　Lorrimores'　brakes　weren't　on。　That　car　was　deliberately　released　on　level　ground；　eh？　I　don't　understand　it。　What　was　the　point？'
　　'Maybe　someone　doesn't　like　the　Lorrimores；'　I　suggested。
　　'We'll　find　the　bastard；'　he　said；　not　listening。　'There　can't　be　many　in　Cartier　who　know　trains。'
　　'Do　you　get　much　sabotage？'　I　asked。
　　'Not　like　this。　Not　often。　Once　or　twice　in　the　past。　But　it's　mostly　vandals。　A　kid　or　two　throwing　rocks　off　a　bridge。　Some　stealing；　eh？'
　　He　was　affronted；　I　saw；　by　the　treachery　of　one　of　his　own　kind。　He　took　it　personally。　He　was　in　a　way　ashamed；　as　one　is　if　one's　countrymen　behave　badly　abroad。
　　I　asked　him　about　his　munication　system　with　the　engineer。　Why　had　he　gone　up　the　train　himself　to　get　it　stopped　if　he　had　a　walkie…talkie？
　　'It　crackles　if　we're　going　at　any　speed。　It's　better　to　talk　face　to　face。'
　　A　light　flashed　on　the　ship…to…shore　radio　and　he　replaced　his　headset。
　　'George　here；'　he　said；　and　listened。　He　looked　at　his　watch　and　frowned。　'Yes。　Right。　Understood。'　He　took　off　the　headset；　shaking　his　head。　'They're　not　going　to　go　along　the　track　looking　for　a　rope　until　both　the　Canadian　and　the　freight　train　have　been　through。　If　our　saboteur's　got　an　ounce　of　sense；　by　that　time　there　won't　be　anything　incriminating　to　find。'
　　'Probably　not　already；'　I　said。　'It's　getting　on　for　an　hour　since　we　left　Cartier。'
　　'Yeah；'　he　said。　His　good　humour　was　trickling　back　despite　his　anger；　the　gleam　of　irony　again　in　his　eye。　'Better　than　that　fellow's　fake　mystery；　eh？'
　　'Yes。。。'　I　said；　thinking。　'Is　the　steam　pipe　the　only　thing　connecting　one　car　to　the　next？　Except　the　links；　of　course。'