The Express Car

The cotton fire at Des Arc was out. The reverend invited Patrick and Leonard to come to the sleeper car.

“You’ve helped a great deal,” Reverend Hagerty said. “You deserve a treat. I’ll make sure you boys get some tasty first-class food.”

Patrick felt a little guilty going without Beth. But he was tired from all that work.

“Yes, sir!” Leonard said. “Thank you.”

Reverend Hagerty left for a moment. He said he was going to tell Miss Cookson where the boys were.

Two women and a few men were traveling in the sleeper car. There were plenty of empty seats and beds. Leonard picked a seat at the back of the car. It was several rows behind the stove.

Patrick climbed into a cushy bed not too far from Leonard. It was across the aisle from Reverend Hagerty’s seat.

The train whistle blew. The engine and the four cars began to move along the tracks again.

Patrick was tired even though it was still daytime. He pulled down the window shade to block the sun. He snuggled into his bunk.

Reverend Hagerty came back and settled in his seat. He began to read a book.

The sleeper car was warm from the stove’s heat. The rocking of the train lulled Patrick to sleep in seconds.

Patrick woke for a moment when Mr. Alford came in. The conductor punched his ticket. Mr. Alford said something about Beth. He left a plate of tiny sandwiches near Patrick’s pillow.

But Patrick was too tired to pay attention. He fell into a deep sleep.

Mr. Pinkerton took Beth to the Adams Express railcar. They stepped up to the only door. It was on the side of the car.

Beth noticed the car was divided into compartments.

The detective and Beth hurried through the first compartment that held sacks of mail. They went through a second compartment. Baggage was stowed inside that one. The third compartment belonged to the Adams Express Company.

Beth and Mr. Pinkerton went inside. Mr. Pinkerton closed the interior door. There were no windows, only vents near the ceiling.

Another agent was inside the compartment. He wore an all-white suit.

Mr. Pinkerton said, “I’m leaving this girl in your car, Agent Wilson.”

Agent Wilson looked confused. “That’s unusual,” he said.

“She knows too much about Jesse James,” Mr. Pinkerton said. “She might be a spy for the James gang.”

“So that’s how he does it!” Agent Wilson said. “I never would have thought to use children.”

The train whistle blew. Mr. Pinkerton opened the narrow compartment door.

“Please stay here,” Beth said. “Jesse James will come. I know it.”

The detective looked at Beth, then tipped his hat. “Miss, I believe you are lying to help the James gang,” Mr. Pinkerton said. “He’ll be robbing some other train or stagecoach today. The last place Jesse James will be is anywhere near this train.”

Mr. Pinkerton closed the interior door behind him. Beth heard his heavy boots trudge through the other compartments. Then she heard the side door of the railcar slide shut.

Beth guessed Mr. Pinkerton was going to get back on his horse. He was going to ride far away. He wouldn’t be there to protect them.

She felt as if it were all her fault.

The train began to chug slowly away from Des Arc.

Agent Wilson sat in the only chair. He looked neat and tidy. Even his vest and tie were white.

Beth looked around for someplace to sit. There was a small table with some packages on it. The stove was too hot to use as a seat.

A black safe was against the wall. It had gold lettering painted on it.

Beth decided to sit on top of it. The safe was so tall that her feet dangled in the air. “What’s going to happen to me?” Beth asked.

Agent Wilson said, “I’ll keep you here till we get to Little Rock, Arkansas. They have a jail.”

Jail? Beth didn’t like the sound of that.

“Then what?” Beth asked.

Agent Wilson scratched his head. “I really don’t know for sure,” he said. “You’re the first child criminal I’ve ever met.”

The agent studied her. “You don’t look dangerous,” he said. “Perhaps it’s the lace around your collar. You look like an angel.”

Beth smiled her most angelic smile. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “I promise. Please let me go back to the passenger car.”

“Mr. Pinkerton is a famous detective. He says you may be part of the James gang,” Agent Wilson said. He shook his head as if he didn’t believe it.

“It’s rotten of those brazen bandits to use children as spies,” the agent went on. “Robbing should be a man’s business.”

Beth thought that no one should be in the robbing business.

“Let’s hope the train doesn’t have trouble,” Agent Wilson said. “Things will go easier for you at the trial.”

Trial? Beth didn’t want to go to trial.

She’d have to take an oath and put her hand on the Bible. Then she’d have to tell about the Imagination Station. She would have to mention Patrick. That meant he might get in trouble too.

Agent Wilson took out a silver pocket watch. He read the time. “Looks like we may gain back some of the time we lost. If so, we should arrive in Little Rock before midnight.”

“And if Jesse James attacks this train?” Beth asked. “Who will help us? Mr. Pinkerton just left.”

Agent Wilson showed Beth his pistol. It had a fat, black barrel.

“Then it will be the James gang’s last robbery,” Agent Wilson said. “I intend to capture that scoundrel. No one has stolen anything from me and my pistol yet.”

Pistol? Beth hoped the Imagination Station would appear. She wanted nothing to do with guns.

“Then I’ll get the ten-thousand-dollar reward,” Agent Wilson said. He tucked the pistol back inside his suit jacket. “I’ll be rich.”