df.theedge-第24部分

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oading。　Next　came　a　wider　central　space　with　a　single　box　on　one　side　only。　Then　two　more　boxes　and　another　space　for　loading；　then　two　more　boxes　and　a　space；　and　finally　another　box　on　each　side　of　the　far　forward　door。　Eleven　boxes；　as　promised；　with　a　central　aisle。
　　The　boxes　were　made　of　heavy　green…painted　panels　of　metal　slotted　and　blotted　together；　dismantleable。　In　the　wide　centre　space；　where　one　box　alone　stood　along　one　wall；　there　was　a　fortable　chair　for　the　redoubtable　Ms　Brown；　along　with　a　table；　equipment　lockers；　a　refrigerator　and　a　heavy　plastic　water　tank　with　a　tap　low　down　for　the　filling　of　buckets。　George　opened　the　top　lid　of　the　tank　and　showed　me　a　small　plank　floating　on　the　surface。
　　'It　stops　the　water　sloshing　about　so　much；　eh？'
　　Eh　indeed；　I　thought。
　　There　were　dozens　of　bales　of　hay　everywhere　possible；　and　a　filled　hay…net　swinging　gently　above　each　horse's　head。　A　couple　of　grooms　sat　around　on　bales　while　their　charges　nibbled　their　plain　fare　and　thought　mysterious　equine　thoughts。
　　Each　box　had　the　name　of　its　occupant　thoughtfully　provided　on　a　typewritten　card　slotted　into　a　holder　on　the　door。　I　peered　at　a　few　of　them；　identifying　Filmer　and　Daffodil's　Laurentide　Ice　as　a　light　grey　clot　with　brittle…looking　bones；　the　Lorrimores'　Voting　Right　as　an　unremarkable　bay；　and　the　Young's　Sparrowgrass　as　a　bright　chestnut　with　a　white　star　and　sock。
　　'e　on；'　George　said。　'Meet　the　engineers；　eh？'　He　wasn't　a　horse　man；　himself。
　　'Yes。　Thank　you。'
　　He　opened　the　forward　door　of　the　horse　van　with　a　key；　and　with　a　key　also　let　us　through　into　the　baggage　car。
　　'The　doors　are　kept　locked；　eh？'
　　I　nodded。　We　swayed　down　the　long　baggage　car；　which　was　half　empty　of　freight　and　very　noisy；　and　George；　having　told　me　to　remove　and　lay　aside　my　waistcoat　in　case　I　got　oil　on　it；　unlocked　the　door　at　the　far　end。　If　I'd　thought　it　noisy　where　we　were；　where　we　went　made　talking　impossible。
　　George　beckoned　and　I　followed　through　a　door　into　the　heat　of　the　rear　section　of　the　engines；　the　section　containing　among　other　things　the　boiler　which　provided　steam　to　heat　the　whole　train。　George　pointed　wordlessly　to　an　immense　tank　of　water　and　with　amusement　showed　me　the　system　for　telling　the　quantity　of　the　contents。　At　intervals　up　the　huge　cylinder　there　were　normal　taps；　the　sort　found　over　sinks。　George　pointed　to　the　figures　beside　each；　which　were　in　hundreds　of　gallons；　and　made　tap…turning　motions　with　his　hands。　One　turned　on　the　taps；　I　understood　with　incredulity；　to　discover　the　level　of　the　contents。　Supremely　logical；　I　supposed；　if　one　had　never　heard　of　gauges。
　　We　went　on　forward　into　a　narrow　passage　beside　yards　of　hot　hammering　engine　of　more　than　head　height；　throbbingly　painful　to　the　senses；　and　then　passed　over　a　coupling　into　another　engine；　even　longer；　even　noisier；　even　hotter；　the　very　stuff　of　hell。　At　the　forward　end　of　that　we　came　to　a　glass…panelled　door；　which　needed　no　key；　and　suddenly　we　were　in　the　parative　quietness　of　the　drivers'　cab；　right　at　the　front　of　the　train。
　　There　was　fresh　cool　air　there；　as　the　right…hand　window；　next　to　the　bank　of　controls　in　front　of　the　engineer's　seat；　was　wide　open。　When　I　mented　on　it；　George　said　that　that　window　was　open　always　except　in　blizzards；　eh？
　　Through　the　wide　forward　unopening　windows　there　was　a　riveting　view　of　the　rails　stretching　ahead；　signals　shining　green　in　the　distance；　trees　flashing　back　at　a　useful　seventy　miles　an　hour。　I'd　never　been　in　the　cab　of　a　moving　train　before；　and　I　felt　I　could　have　stayed　there　all　day。
　　At　the　controls　sat　a　youngish　man　in　no　sort　of　uniform；　and　beside　him　sat　an　older　man　in　cleanish　overalls　with　grease　on　his　fingers。
　　George　made　introductions。　'Robert'；　that　was　the　younger；　and　'Mike'；　the　elder。　They　nodded　and　shook　hands　when　George　explained　my　position。　'Give　him　help；　if　he　asks　for　it。'
　　They　said　they　would。　George　patted　Robert　on　the　shoulder　and　pointed　out　to　me　a　small　white　flag　blowing　stiffly　outside　to　the　right　of　the　front　windows。
　　'That　flag　shows　this　is　a　special　train。　Not　in　the　timetable。　It's　so　all　railwaymen　along　the　way　don't　think　the　Canadian　is　running　thirty　minutes　early。'
　　They　all　thought　it　a　great　joke。　Trains　never　ran　early　the　world　over。　Late　was　routine。
　　Still　chuckling；　George　led　the　way　back　through　the　glass　door　into　the　inferno。　We　inched　again　past　the　thundering　monster　and　its　second　string　to　the　rear；　and　emerged　at　last　into　the　clattering　reverberating　peace　of　the　baggage　car　where　I　was　reunited　with　my　waistcoat。　My　suitcase；　I　was　interested　to　see；　stood　in　a　quiet　row　of　others；　accessible　enough　if　I　wanted　it。
　　George　locked　the　baggage　car　door　behind　us　and　we　stood　again　in　the　quiet　horse　car　which　looked　homely　and　friendly　with　the　horses'　heads　poking　forward　over　the　doors。　It　was　interesting；　I　thought；　that　as　far　as　they　were　able　in　their　maybe　four…foot…wide　stalls；　most　of　them　were　standing　diagonally　across　the　space；　the　better　to　deal　with　the　motion；　and　they　all　looked　alert　and　interested；　sure　signs　of　contentment。
　　I　rubbed　the　noses　of　one　or　two　under　the　frowning　suspicious　gaze　of　Ms　Brown　who　was　not　pleased　to　be　told　that　she　should　let　me　in　whenever　I　asked；　eh？
　　George　chuckled　his　way　out　of　the　horse　car　and　we　meandered　back　down　the　train　together；　George　stopping　to　check　for　news　with　each　sleeping…car　attendant　and　to　solve　any　problems。　There　was　a　sing…song　in　progress　in　the　dome　car　and　the　racegoers　in　the　dayniter　had　formed　about　four　separate　card　schools　with　cash　passing　briskly。
　　The　overworked　and　gloomy　chef　in　the　main　dining　car　had　not　lost　his　temper　altogether　and　only　a　few　passengers　had　grumbled　that　the　roomettes　were　too　cramped；　the　most　usual　disgruntlement；　George　said。
　　No　one　was　ill；　no　one　was　drunk；　no　one　was　fighting。　Things；　George　said　eventually；　were　going　so　smoothly　that　one　should　expect　disaster　any　time　now；　eh？
　　We　came　at　last　to　his　office　which　was　basically　a　roomette　like　my　own：　that　is　to　say；　it　was　a　seven…by…four…foot　space　on　one　side　of　a　central　corridor；　containing　a　washbasin；　a　folding　table　and　two　seats；　one　of　which　concealed　what　the　timetable　coyly　called　'facilities'。　One　could　either　leave　the　sliding　door　open　and　see　the　world　go　by　down　the　corridor；　or　close　oneself　into　a　private　cocoon；　and　at　night；　one's　bed　descended　from　the　ceiling　and　on　to　the　seat　of　the　facilities　which　effectively　put　them　out　of　use。
　　George　invited　me　in　and　left　the　door　open。
　　'This　train；'　he　said；　settling　himself　into　the　armchair　and　indicating　the　facilities　for　me；　'is　a　triumph　of　diplomacy；　eh？'
　　He　had　a　permanent　smile　in　his　eyes；　I　thought；　much　as　if　he　found　the　whole　of　life　a　joke。　I　learned　later　that　he　thought　stupidity　the　norm　for　human　behaviour；　and　that　no　one　was　as　stupid　as　passengers；　politicians；　pressmen　and　the　people　who　employed　him。
　　'Why；'　I　asked；　'is　it　a　triumph？'
　　'mon　sense　has　broken　out。'
　　I　waited。　He　beamed　and　in　a　while　went　on；　'Except　for　the　engineers；　the　same　crew　will　stay　with　the　train　to　Vancouver！'
　　I　didn't　to　his　eyes　appear　sufficiently　impressed。
　　'It's　unheard　of；　eh？'　he　said。　'The　unions　won't　allow　it。'
　　'Oh。'
　　'Also　the　horse　car　belongs　to　Canadian　Pacific。'
　　I　looked　even　blanker。
　　He　chuckled。　The　Canadian　Pacific　and　VIA　Rail；　who　work　so　closely　together；　get　along　like　sandpaper；　good　at　friction。　Canadian　Pacific　trains　are　freight　trains；　eh？；　and　VIA　trains　carry　passengers；　and　never　the　two　shall　mix。　This　train　is　a　mix。　A　miracle；　eh？'
　　'Absolutely；'　I　said　encouragingly。
　　He　looked　at　me　with　twinkling　pity　for　my　lack　of　understanding　of　the　really　serious　things　in　life。
　　I　asked　if　his　telephone　would　work　at　the　next　big　stop　which　came　under　the　heading　of　serious　to　me。
　　'Sudbury？'　he　said。　'Certainly。　But　we　will　be　there　for　an　hour。　It's　much　cheaper　from　the　station。　A　fraction　of　the　price。'
　　'But　more　private　here。'
　　He　nodded　philosophically。