Grace Bedell

Patrick handed Conductor Morehead his other ticket. Then he put the first one back in his pocket. “Everything is in order,” Morehead said after punching Patrick’s train ticket.

The conductor pulled a pocket watch out of his vest. “It’s one thirty. We have only five minutes before we reach North East station,” he said. “I need to punch everyone’s ticket on this car before that. And I need to put this trunk in the baggage car.”

The conductor snapped his watch closed and returned it to his vest. He lifted his hat to Beth.

Beth smiled. “Thank you, sir,” she said.

The conductor pushed the trunk toward the baggage car.

Patrick had almost forgotten about Ross.

“A word, sir?” Ross said to the new conductor. “Will the stop at North East station be long? I want go into the depot and wire a message.”

“You’ll have time if you hurry,” the conductor said.

“Right,” said Ross. He wrote something on his notepad. “Thank you.”

Beth gently nudged Patrick with her elbow. “Let’s go,” she said. The cousins turned toward the rear of the train.

Beth and Patrick entered Mr. Lincoln’s train car. Patrick paused. “I’m going to find Willie,” he said. Patrick headed to the back of the train.

Beth moved inside Mrs. Lincoln’s compartment. She felt safer there.

It seemed Sally did too. The runaway was sitting on a seat. The blue cloak was draped over the back of it. Tad sat next to her. The young boy was reading the ABC book to her.

Mrs. Lincoln was looking on and smiling. When Beth caught her eye, Mrs. Lincoln gave her a wink.

The train whistle blasted twice. Beth felt the train slow.

Beth picked up a newspaper. The front page had the schedule for the Lincoln Special.

“The train has a few more stops,” she told Sally. “North East, Westfield, Dunkirk, and Silver Creek. It’s due in Buffalo at five o’clock. Only about three more hours.”

The train slowed and stopped.

Willie looked out the window. “This is the depot in North East,” he said. “There’s only a small crowd. Mr. Lincoln won’t get out.”

A few minutes later, the train whistle blew. Beth felt relieved. They were closer to Buffalo with each stop.

Patrick and Willie were playing with the tin soldiers near the stove again.

Patrick was glad to see the one Willie had employed as a wedge. It was dented but still usable. The little man looked battle-worthy.

The train whistle blew one long toot. The noise caused the men sitting near Lincoln to stir.

“This must be Westfield,” Lincoln said in a hoarse voice. “I’ve been looking forward to this stop.”

Wood stood and began pacing. “No need to talk so much here,” he said. “Your voice will fail if you’re not quiet. Save your vocal cords for the people of Buffalo.”

“I have a special friend here,” Lincoln said. “I will address the crowd.” He rose from his seat and picked up his black hat. Then he ducked and stepped through the rear door and onto the platform.

Willie put the tin soldiers in his pocket. Then he and Patrick joined Lincoln on the back platform.

Lincoln was waving to the large crowd.

The people were cheering and clapping. Everyone wore nice clothes. Patrick was amazed that ladies would crowd closely together in their wide, fluffy dresses.

Lincoln said loudly, “I am glad to see you. I suppose you are glad to see me.”

The crowd went wild with cheers and claps. Women waved handkerchiefs. Men waved hats and American flags.

Lincoln continued, “But you folks are so good looking. It seems I have the best of the bargain.”

The crowd laughed. Then they clapped again.

Lincoln said, “Three months ago, a young lady mailed me a letter. Her name is Grace Bedell. She suggested I let my whiskers grow to improve my looks.”

Lincoln raised his hand to stroke his scraggly beard.

A young lad sitting on a nearby post pointed toward the back of the crowd and said, “There’s Grace!”

The crowd parted. A young girl walked toward the train platform. She carried a bouquet of roses in her arms.

Patrick thought she looked about eleven years old.

The crowd moved away from the platform railing. Grace climbed the steep steps to the platform. Lincoln stepped toward her.

The crowd cheered. Grace and Lincoln spoke to each other softly.

Patrick was too far away to hear what they said.

Then Lincoln shook Grace’s hand. He gave her a swift, gentle kiss on the cheek.

Grace smiled sweetly and blushed as red as a tomato. Then she hurried down the stairs with the flowers. She disappeared into the crowd.

The people began cheering even louder. Lincoln waved to them and then went back into the train car.

Willie giggled. He leaned toward Patrick and whispered, “I’ll bet she was nervous. She forgot to give Mr. Lincoln those roses.”