Captain McGurk didn’t seem to care that Addy’s legs were not as long as his were as he yanked her along. “Gold?” he barked. “Gold? What do you know about gold?”

“Ow!”

He had her skimpy little ear gripped between his meaty fingers, forcing her to skip and stumble along in front of him in the narrow, swaying aisle of the train. Wylder and Nevins were right behind, herded by another Red Rider named Officer McGuff. Addy squirmed, cheeks burning from the stares of tsking passengers.

And what exactly was she being accused of? The stupid captain thought she was Nelly—that much was clear. But what had Nelly done?

“How did you get from the lockup,” growled McGurk, “to the second-class carriage, inside the …”

“The flush factory?” came Wylder’s voice from behind.

Not helpful, Wylder Wallace.

“Ouch!” His guard must have given him a poke.

McGurk had snatched the comic right out of Wylder’s hand and stuffed it into the side pocket of his red jacket.

“Really, sir, it’s just a kid’s book! I swear!”

“That’s what makes it suspicious. Children who read books are peculiar,” the captain had said.

At the end of the passenger car was a smoked-glass door with gold letters that said BAGGAGE. Captain McGurk tapped on it with the toe of his huge polished boot, squishing Addy to one side.

He wrenched her ear again. Ow, that hurt! Addy vowed to tell Uncle Vim to draw this guy wandering through a meadow of poison ivy in the next issue. Make him fall into a sludge pit full of snakes. Maybe break a leg while chasing Flynn through an underground cavern full of bats …

“Open up!” The captain’s second toe-knock rattled the glass. This time the door swung open.

Stepping—or being shoved—from the bright, crowded passenger car into the long, dim space ahead was like entering a barn. Nearby shapes were easy to identify, but deepening shadows only vaguely suggested what might fill the gloom at the other end. Stacks of brassbound trunks sat along one wall, with suitcases and mailbags and odd-shaped packages heaped in front of them. There were no windows. The main source of light came from feeble gas jets flickering up near the roof.

But one bright lamp shone in the nearby corner of the carriage. Here was a cage with iron bars from ceiling to floor. Next to it stood a Red Rider, now at full attention in the presence of his superior officer. Isadora Fortuna stood in front of him, eyes flashing and hat feathers a-tremble. Flynn Goster lurked next to her, hands behind his back, mustache drooping like wilted stalks of rhubarb.

And inside the small cell, behind a padlocked gate, Nelly Day perched on a stool, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. Her braid had come untied and her hair was a disheveled mess—just like Addy’s own. Addy’s heart hiccuped in her chest—wouldn’t anyone’s?—at the sight of herself behind prison bars.

“Huh,” muttered Addy, her head twisted at an awkward angle. “Your prisoner is still in captivity. I am not the criminal here.”

“Demon!” spat Nelly.

“Most perplexing,” said the Red Rider captain. “Double the trouble.”

“Captain McGurk!” cried Isadora. “The very man I wish to speak to. Your officer here”—she waved a dismissive hand—“is a slack-jawed, incompetent pinhead unable to make the simplest decision on his own. And you!” She stabbed the air with an angry forefinger. “Big bold leader of the Red Riders. Still bullying children, I see.”

McGurk let go of Addy’s ear and dismissed Officer McGuff and the other Rider. “Stand guard outside,” he said.

Addy guessed that he didn’t want his men to hear Isadora’s scolding.

Captain McGurk cleared his throat.

Addy rubbed her ear and edged away from the policeman. Wylder’s hand slid into hers and gave it a quick squeeze. She was so surprised that she squeezed back. And let go again, of course. She glanced over her shoulder to see Nevins picking at a scab on his cheek.

“Madam.” McGurk tipped his hat.

Isadora cut him off with a chhht. “You and your men have disappointed me greatly.” She was nearly as tall as the captain and looked him boldly in the eye. “Putting a small orphaned child behind lock and key!”

Nelly slumped her shoulders and put on a woebegone face.

“Unjustly accused and unceremoniously stripped of her liberty, without so much as a second voice in the matter. How dare you claim to represent justice?”

“Madam, you are overwrought.” Captain McGurk passed a gloved hand across his sweating face, maybe trying to un-wrought himself. “Please measure your words. It is my responsibility to incarcerate all suspicious characters—for the safety of our passengers. And our cargo.”

His eyes shifted. Addy followed his gaze.

Flynn.

Captain McGurk had chased Flynn Goster through two issues, and now here they were, face to face. Flynn, of course, had always triumphed, mocking the entire League of Best Western Red Riders as he made off with the jewels or treasure. But now … Addy peered at the man who should be twirling his mustache, grinning at McGurk and saying, “Fancy meeting me here.”

Flynn seemed shorter somehow and had no sparkle in his eyes. Addy didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t help it; the end of his right arm was a rounded knob of scarred skin. A stump.

“What’s wrong with Flynn?” whispered Wylder. “Why is he staring at Isadora like that?”

“Staring” was an understatement. Flynn’s gaze was glued to Isadora’s face.

“Mush,” said Wylder.

“Gag me,” said Addy.

McGurk must have been considering the same abject character, not the hero he was used to chasing and cursing. Not the man he’d been guarding his train against. “The Gold Rush Express,” he said, “is transporting—”

“Gold,” said Isadora Fortuna.

“Gold,” murmured Flynn. He sighed, massaging his stump with his other hand.

“A cargo of some value,” said McGurk. “The girl under your protection was discovered in a previously locked stateroom—”

“A child’s mistake,” Isadora protested. “The room is next to our own.”

“There was an eyewitness to her crime,” said McGurk.

“That’s me!” Nevins piped up. “I’m always looking out for my uncle.”

The captain’s voice swelled with authority as he ignored the brat and kept going. “I am now entirely convinced that something very suspicious is afoot.” He pushed Addy forward into the light. “This person was apprehended in the act of taking her revenge on the witness!”

“But I trounced her!” shouted Nevins.

“You did not!” said Wylder.

“Silence!” barked Captain McGurk. “I see no reason other than skulduggery that two young scamps would be dressed identically—one of them prowling the fine professor’s stateroom and the other one fisticuffing the professor’s nephew.”

Isadora examined Addy. “Call me flabbergasted,” she said. “I hardly know the difference myself. Do you see her, Nelly?”

“I see her. Wearing my dress, is what I see.” Nelly’s eyes narrowed and her shoulders hunched.

“Uh, thanks for the loan of your clothes,” said Addy. “Mine were soaked.”

“Well, mine are wet too,” said Nelly. “And now I don’t have anything to change into! What makes you think you can paw my belongings?”

“They’re both bad girls,” said Nevins. “You can see by looking at them.”

Captain McGurk jingled a key ring attached to his belt. He had trouble shifting the jacket out of the way because of a bulge in his pocket.

The comic book!

Addy bugged her eyes at Wylder, making sure he’d seen it. Oh, yeah, he was nodding hard. She mimed pulling the comic out of its spot. Wylder blinked. Would he have the nerve to steal from a policeman?

“You imprison innocent children,” said Isadora, “proving that you are a chin-chuntering bullyboy. Captain McGurk, I will rouse such a protest, they’ll hear it all the way to the prime minister’s office.”

“Madam, any further interference and I will put you in the lockup with your so-called innocent children!”

Addy expected Isadora to wrestle the man to the floor, but Flynn pulled her gently aside, allowing Captain McGurk to use his key to open the padlock. He pushed Addy through, closed the barred gate and locked it.

She was a prisoner.

Sludge. Double sludge. How would they ever get home?

Nelly hopped off her stool. The two girls faced each other—tousled dark hair, blue dresses and slightly grubby vests with big pockets.

“Pass me that fancy handbag you’ve got there,” ordered McGurk.

Addy was about to object when she saw Wylder move into position behind the captain. Too bad Nelly couldn’t pick the pocket for him. Wylder’s eyes were glassy with concentration. What could Addy do—from behind bars—to help?

“Miss? Your handbag.”

She would cause a distraction. Addy pretended to pass over her bag, but then snatched it back. Catnip was inside, along with her other stuff.

“Don’t make trouble.” Captain McGurk had his hand out, waiting.

“Oh, look!” Addy rummaged inside and found a Toronto subway token. She placed it on his open palm. “Not much use, since you don’t have subways yet.” She quickly pulled out the next thing. “Cinnaglom! My favorite chewing gum. Has gum been invented yet? This company advertises in my uncle’s comic, so you could say that you owe your life to Cinnaglom!”

She knew she was blabbering, but come on, Wylder! Couldn’t he see that she was providing cover? This was no time for second thoughts.

“How about this?” Addy yanked out her cell phone and waved it in the air.

“What the jiminy is that?” McGurk put his hand through the bars, trying to reach it.

Catnip scrambled out from the bag and up Addy’s arm to her shoulder. He bared his teeth and made scary chirrup noises. McGurk pulled his fingers out of reach.

“That horrible thing again? I thought I’d put a bullet through its brain already. You deserve to be in jail for bringing vermin onto a public railway carriage. We’ll lock you up and throw away the key.”

Lightbulb!

“Hey, Flynn!” called Addy. “Where’s your Zimmer? Will you get us out of here?”

She saw a tiny flash of vigor in Flynn’s eyes. He looked to Isadora, lifting his stump to reveal the empty wrist that used to bear the nifty device.

Addy had watched the Zimmer being extracted from the alligator’s throat, mixed up in a sludge of gnawed finger and bloody pulp.

“Isadora?” she said. “Have you still got—”

Wylder chose his moment. With a quick tug, he lifted the comic book right out of the captain’s pocket. Success!

But not for long. As soon as Wylder had seized his prize, Nevins leapt in and clamped onto the comic with ten greedy fingers. He yanked it away with a shriek of triumph.

“Wylder!” Addy clenched the bars, trying to shake them loose.

Nevins darted into the shadows and scrambled up a stack of trunks on the other side of the train car, holding the precious comic book.

“Come back here!” Wylder raced after him.

Captain McGurk strode to the door to summon the guards from outside.

“Wylder!” Addy hollered. “Catch the stinking little monster!”

Nelly jumped up and down. “Hammer the squit!”

Isadora unlatched the whip from its clasp at her waist.

“Go, Wylder!” Addy yelled her throat raw. “Tackle him!”

Wylder lost his footing and bumped to the ground.

“Well, I’m jiggered!” Nevins was peering at the page in front of him. Addy could hear the scared surprise in his voice. “I’m in here,” he said. “We all are. What is this thing?”

THWIP!

Too late.