df.theedge-第28部分

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　of　space；　directing　a　bright　hand…held　torch　beam　down　the　track。　Heard　that　he　had　a　walkie…talkie　radio　on　which　he　could　give　the　engineer　instructions　to　slow　down　further；　and　to　stop。
　　He　found　the　Lorrimores'　car　about　a　mile　and　a　half　out　of　Cartier。　The　whole　train　stopped　while　he　jumped　down　from　the　dome　car　and　went　to　look　at　the　laggard。　There　was　a　long　pause　from　my　point　of　view；　while　the　lights　began　nickering　in　the　office　and　the　train　exceedingly　slowly　reversed；　before　stopping　again　and　going　into　a　sudden　jerk。　Then　we　started　forwards　slowly；　and　thenfaster；　and　the　lights　stopped　flickering；　and　soon　after　that　George　appeared　in　his　office　looking　grim；　all　chuckles　extinguished。
　　'What's　the　matter；'　I　said。
　　'Nothing；'　he　said　violently；　'that's　what's　the　matter。'　He　stretched　out　a　hand　for　the　headset　which　I　gave　him。
　　He　spoke　into　it。　'This　is　George。　We　picked　up　the　Lorrimores'　car　at　one　point　three　miles　west　of　Cartier。　There　was　no　failure　in　the　linkage。'　He　listened。　'That's　what　I　said。　Who　the　hell　do　they　have　working　in　Cartier；　eh？　Someone　uncoupled　that　car　at　Cartier　and　rigged　some　way　of　pulling　it　out　of　the　station　into　the　darkness　before　releasing　it。　The　brakes　weren't　on。　You　tell　Cartier　to　send　someone　right　away　down　the　track　looking　for　a　rope　or　some　such；　eh？　The　steam　heat　pipe　wasn't　broken；　it　had　been　unlocked。　That's　what　I　said。　The　valve　was　closed。　It　was　no　goddam　accident；　no　goddam　mechanical　failure；　someone　deliberately　unhitched　that　car。　If　the　Lorrimore　girl　hadn't　found　out；　the　Canadian　would　have　crashed　into　it。　No；　maybe　not　at　high　speed；　but　at　twenty…five；　thirty　miles　an　hour　the　Canadian　can　do　a　lot　of　damage。　Would　have　made　matchsticks　of　the　private　car。　Might　have　killed　the　Canadian　engineers；　or　even　derailed　the　train。　You　tell　them　to　start　looking；　eh？'
　　He　took　off　the　headset　and　stared　at　me　with　rage。
　　'Would　you；'　he　said；　'know　how　to　uncouple　one　car　from　another？'
　　'No；　of　course　not。'
　　'It　takes　a　railwayman。'　He　glared。　'A　railwayman！　It's　like　a　mechanic　letting　someone　drive　off　in　a　car　with　loose　wheel　nuts。　It's　criminal；　eh？'
　　'Yes。'
　　'A　hundred　years　ago；'　he　said　furiously；　'they　designed　a　system　to　prevent　cars　that　had　broken　loose　from　running　backwards　and　crashing　into　things。　The　brakes　go　on　automatically　in　a　runaway。'　He　glared。　'That　system　had　been　by…passed。　The　Lorrimores'　brakes　weren't　on。　That　car　was　deliberately　released　on　level　ground；　eh？　I　don't　understand　it。　What　was　the　point？'
　　'Maybe　someone　doesn't　like　the　Lorrimores；'　I　suggested。
　　'We'll　find　the　bastard；'　he　said；　not　listening。　'There　can't　be　many　in　Cartier　who　know　trains。'
　　'Do　you　get　much　sabotage？'　I　asked。
　　'Not　like　this。　Not　often。　Once　or　twice　in　the　past。　But　it's　mostly　vandals。　A　kid　or　two　throwing　rocks　off　a　bridge。　Some　stealing；　eh？'
　　He　was　affronted；　I　saw；　by　the　treachery　of　one　of　his　own　kind。　He　took　it　personally。　He　was　in　a　way　ashamed；　as　one　is　if　one's　countrymen　behave　badly　abroad。
　　I　asked　him　about　his　munication　system　with　the　engineer。　Why　had　he　gone　up　the　train　himself　to　get　it　stopped　if　he　had　a　walkie…talkie？
　　'It　crackles　if　we're　going　at　any　speed。　It's　better　to　talk　face　to　face。'
　　A　light　flashed　on　the　ship…to…shore　radio　and　he　replaced　his　headset。
　　'George　here；'　he　said；　and　listened。　He　looked　at　his　watch　and　frowned。　'Yes。　Right。　Understood。'　He　took　off　the　headset；　shaking　his　head。　'They're　not　going　to　go　along　the　track　looking　for　a　rope　until　both　the　Canadian　and　the　freight　train　have　been　through。　If　our　saboteur's　got　an　ounce　of　sense；　by　that　time　there　won't　be　anything　incriminating　to　find。'
　　'Probably　not　already；'　I　said。　'It's　getting　on　for　an　hour　since　we　left　Cartier。'
　　'Yeah；'　he　said。　His　good　humour　was　trickling　back　despite　his　anger；　the　gleam　of　irony　again　in　his　eye。　'Better　than　that　fellow's　fake　mystery；　eh？'
　　'Yes。。。'　I　said；　thinking。　'Is　the　steam　pipe　the　only　thing　connecting　one　car　to　the　next？　Except　the　links；　of　course。'
　　That's　right。'
　　'What　about　electricity。。。　and　water？'
　　He　shook　his　head。　'Each　car　makes　its　own　electricity。　Self　contained。　They　have　generators　under　the　floors。。。　like　dynamos　on　bicycles。。。　that　make　electricity　from　the　wheels　going　round。　The　problem　is　that　when　we're　going　slowly；　the　lights　flicker。　Then　there　are　batteries　for　when　we're　stopped；　but　they'd　only　last　for　forty…five　minutes；　eh？；　if　we　weren't　plugged　into　the　ground　supply　at　a　station。　After　that　we're　down　to　emergency　lighting；　just　the　aisle　lights　and　not　much　else　for　about　four　hours；　then　we're　in　the　dark。　''And　water？'　I　asked。
　　'It's　in　the　roof。'
　　'Really？'　I　said；　surprised。
　　He　patiently　explained。　'At　city　stations；　we　have　water　hydrants　every　eighty…five　feet；　the　length　of　the　cars。　One　to　each　car。　Also　the　main　electricity；　same　thing；　eh？　Anyway；　the　water　goes　up　under　pressure　into　the　tanks　in　the　roof　and　feeds　down　again　to　the　washrooms　by　gravity。'
　　Fascinating；　I　thought。　And　it　had　made　unhitching　the　Lorrimores'　car　a　paratively　quick　and　easy　job。
　　'The　new　cars；'　George　said；　'will　be　heated　by　electricity；　not　steam；　so　we'll　be　doing　away　with　the　steam　pipe；　eh？　And　they'll　have　tanks　for　the　sewage；　which　now　drops　straight　down　on　to　the　tracks；　of　course。'
　　'Canada's　railways；'　I　said　politely；　'will　be　the　envy　of　the　world。'
　　He　chuckled。　'The　trains　between　Montreal　and　Toronto　are　late　three…quarters　of　the　time　and　the　new　engines　break　down　regularly。　The　old　rolling　stock；　like　this　train；　is　great。'
　　He　picked　up　the　headset　again。　I　raised　a　hand　in　farewell　and　went　back　to　the　dining　room　where　the　real　mystery　had　easily　usurped　Zak's；　though　some　were　sure　it　was　part　of　the　plot。
　　Xanthe　had　cheered　up　remarkably　through　being　the　centre　of　sympathetic　attention；　and　Filmer　was　telling　Mercer　Lorrimore　he　should　sue　the　railway　pany　for　millions　of　dollars　for　negligence。　The　near…disaster　had　galvanized　the　general　consciousness　to　a　higher　adrenaline　level；　probably　because　Xanthe　had　not；　in　fact；　been　carried　off　like　Angelica。
　　Nell　was　sitting　at　a　table　with　a　fortyish　couple　who　she　later　told　me　owned　one　of　the　horses　in　the　box…car；　a　dark　bay　called　Redi…Hot。　The　man　beckoned　to　me　as　I　stood　around　vaguely；　and　asked　me　to　fetch　cognac　for　him；　vodka　with　ice　for　his　wife　and。。。　what　for　Nell？
　　'Just　Coke；　please；'　she　said。
　　I　went　to　the　kitchen　where　I　knew　the　Coke　was；　but　made　frantic　question　mark　signals　to　Nell　about　the　rest。　Emil；　the　chefs；　Oliver　and　Cathy　had　finished　cleaning　up　and　had　all　gone　off　duty。　I　had　no　alcohol…divining　rod　to　bend　a　twig　in　the　direction　of　brandy　or　Smirnoff。
　　Nell　said　something　to　the　owners　and　came　to　join　me；　stifling　laughter。
　　'Yes；　very　funny；'　I　said；　'but　what　the　hell　do　I　do？'
　　'Take　one　of　the　small　trays　and　get　the　drinks　from　the　bar。　I'll　explain　they　have　to　pay　for　them。'
　　'I　haven't　seen　you　for　five　minutes　alone　today；'　I　plained。
　　'You're　downstairs；　I'm　up。'
　　'I　could　easily　hate　you。'
　　'But　do　you？'
　　'Not　yet；　'I　said。
　　'If　you're　a　good　little　waiter；　I'll　leave　you　a　tip。'
　　She　went　back　to　her　place　with　a　placent　bounce　to　her　step；　and　with　a　curse；　but　not　meaning　it；　I　took　the　Coke　and　a　glass　to　her　table　and　went　on　into　the　dome　car　for　the　rest。　After　I'd　returned　and　delivered　the　order　someone　else　asked　for　the　same　service；　which　I　willingly　performed　again；　and　yet　again。
　　On　each　trip　I　overheard　snatches　of　the　bar…room　conversations　and　could　hear　the　louder　buzz　of　continuing　upheaval　along　in　the　lounge；　and　I　thought　that　after　I'd　satisfied　everyone　in　the　dining　room　I　might　drift　along　to　the　far　end　with　my　disarming　little　tray。The　only　person　not　wholly　in　sympathy　with　this　plan　was　the　bartender　who　plained　that　I　was　supposed　to　be　off　duty　and　that　the　passengers　should　e　to　the　bar　to　buy　the　drinks　themselves；　I　was　syphoning　off　his　tips。　I　saw　the　justice　of　that　and　offe