"Good evening again, Mister Wentworth. Mind if I join you?"

Abner hastily folded up the paper and sat up beaming an interested smile. "Please, Miss Bellows. Would be my pleasure. Would you care for something to drink?"

"A small Sherry would be nice, thankyou." Abner spotted Stanley loitering in the car's alcove and beckoned him forward. When he finally made his way to their table, keeping his eyes glued exclusively to Abner, he took the drink order and vanished into the kitchen car.

"Strange young man," Abner remarked. "One minute all confidence and good humour, next he's like a bashful maiden at her first barn dance." Jean grinned and looked out the window, she liked the analogy.

"So tell me, Mist—"

"Please. Abner, Miss Bellows. After all, we are fellow travelers."

"Abner then. Tell me Abner, do you think there is much hope in this action Mister Howden is planning? I mean for us... the victims, to realize any compensation?"

"Frankly... Jean. May I?" She batted her eyes slowly and he continued with an elevation of warmth. "Frankly, Jean, I think our Mister Howden is a flat out con artist and it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he didn't have any official position with the Victim's Advocacy."

She pursed her lips and studied the soft, slightly ruddy features of her companion. Wispy eyebrows over weak green eyes and a fleshy nose that seemed to rise up and down with the upper lip. Abner had a shiny, bald pate, compensated by thick sideburns and when sitting, as he was now, his neck vanished into a coil of wrinkles against his shirt collar.

"So you would give that a hearty no then?"

"The heartiest, Jean, the heartiest. Now on the other hand, if someone like yourself could prove beyond a doubt to the town council that your loss has made your personal situation impossible... financially I mean... why then someone like myself, an attorney, might be able to make some hay out of that." He let his lips curl into a smile and the nose moved accordingly.

"How would someone prove such a thing, Abner?"

"Well it couldn't happen right away. There would have to be documents. Financial records. Support from someone in authority as to the seriousness of the situation... it would mean a reasonably long association until a case could be made." He'd had this very argument with Williams the accountant back in Triple Creek when he proposed an alliance in Howden's scheme and was summarily rejected. The weak eyes took on a faint glitter and Jean saw exactly where the old man was headed. Talk about flat out cons she smiled to herself.

"Certainly is something to consider, Abner." Stanley arrived with her Sherry and she made it a point to stare at his face until he looked at her, blushing furiously before scurrying away.

Penny locked the compartment door and tossed her purse onto the bed, automatically turning to the mirror for yet another inspection. Most of the men had acted as expected, some of the women too, but Mister Jonas Howe had upset her little world by not responding at all. She turned sideways and smoothed the top of her dress. Surely this must have had some effect, she mused, admiring her figure in the mirror.

She undid the buttons and shimmied the dress down over her ankles, stepping out of it and placing it on a hanger in the pitifully small closet. Her corset was snapped at the back and she easily undid them and swung it free. Turning again, Penny was pleased to see that there was really very little difference, her tummy nice and flat, and her derriere perky and taut. Her only concern was the tops of her thighs; she felt they were a tad thick.

Several more minutes of examination ended with a move to the lavatory and the nightly ritual of makeup removal, cream applications and the tiny syringe full of laudanum to make her voyage into sleep a sensation of being carried by angels. Penny rinsed the syringe and put her kit away carefully; losing that could mean losing everything. It kept her alive and even. It made her performances what they were... effortless and unbound.

She removed the rest of her underwear and slid naked under the cool sheet, her smile widening as the drug swam lazily through her system.

Carl clambered back into the engine compartment and poked Amos who swore he was just resting his eyes.

"Go get some grub and rest them properly then." Carl replaced him on the stool. "Bank that up a little more before you go," he said, indicating the furnace. "We'll be headin' into hilly country before mornin'."

"It's hills from then on." Amos stated.

"Yep, and perhaps weather too."

"Remember that snow we met back in—"

"Go get yer grub and yer sleep, Amos. Forget about reminicin' tonight." Carl waved his fireman off and turned his attention to the track ahead. He loved the way the rails came to a point beyond the headlamp, always widening when the train approached; it was mesmerizing. Not enough to make him lose his concentration though, after all, Carl was a professional engineer with a hump full of experience. He looked off into the night and the dark shapes of trees flashing by his little window. This was the life. This was his life.

Amos sat at the counter in the kitchen joining Deke in teasing Stanley who regretted mentioning his encounter with Jean Bellows.

"It ain't funny."

"Is to us," the two men guffawed. "Heck, Stan, you shoulda pushed a little harder, mighta got yerself some of that experience you bin missin'."

Deke covered his mouth and hooted into his palm. "Maybe she shoulda pushed a little harder, see if old Stanley here had anythin' to get experience with." Stanley was about to snap back when the bell rang from the prison car. Quickly he slipped through the kitchen and onto the outside platform, knocking loudly.

Ryan answered, handing him the prisoner's food tray with all dishes and utensils accounted for. "About two hours bring back a pot of strong coffee." He said, nodding and closing the door. Stanley made his way back into the kitchen grumbling.

"'S your problem?"

"Marshal thinks I'm his personal servant, orderin' this for this time and that for that time." He put the dirty dishes in the sink and waved at Deke to clean them up.

"Who thinks who's a servant?"

"Just do your job, Travis."

"Yessir, Mister Lightway. Right away."

"And make up a pot of coffee but don't start it yet. His Nibs wants it in two hours."

"Man's got a tough job, Stanley," Amos offered. "Should maybe give him some slack and be thankful he's as tough as he is what with that monster we got on board."

"I know. I just don't like bein' takin' for granted."

"Like by Miss Bellows?" Deke hooted again from the sink. Stanley glowered at his helper's back.

Amos slid off the stool and headed for the cot in the corner. "Keep the bickerin' to a minimum, boys, I gotta get some shuteye."

******

Ryan brought the coffee delivered from the kitchen into the prisoner's car and sat with the guards for a spell then designated Harlan to take first watch.

"Keep the coffee, Harlan and don't take anything for granted." Ryan threw a meaningful glance at Otis, smirking in the corner.

"Don't worry, boss. I'd as soon shoot this bugger as let 'im gimme any trouble."

"Yeah, well don't be doin' anything stupid yourself. Just watch him and Jigger'll be in to relieve you in a couple of hours."

"You not takin' a turn, Marshal? Bein' the boss gives you special privilege?"

"That's right, Otis. Don't you wish you was me." Ryan nodded to Jigger and the two men left for the other half of the car.

Far to the west the black sky blinked a flash of yellow and a while later it grumbled faintly. The noise of the train prevented anyone on board from noticing.