Chapter 3

Helen reaches into the carpet bag and pulls out a small roll of bills handing one to Napoleon and one to Nathaniel. "We lost pretty much everything in the crash," she says, "here's some money for each of you to get yourselves on your feet."

Counting the money quickly the both find that they have 75$.

"I myself have one dress that looks like I rolled down a mountain to my name," Helen states, "everything else I own is in New York and it's really not helping me much there."

Ruby smiles, "I only have the one dress too, but then I've only ever had the one dress."

"When we get to San Francisco we'll get you a couple more," Helen grins.

"When's the train leave?" Buford asks sticking bullets from a box into the loops on his gun belt. The shop keeper is showing him a bandolier with a number of pouches for rifle rounds.

By about 3pm the train to San Francisco has arrived, it pulls into the stating chugging and bleaching steam and smoke everywhere. A sizable number of workers are aboard the train, it makes a quick stop before heading up towards the wreck. By 5pm the train returns backing down the track, there's a turn around siding it uses just before Kingman and by 5:30 the train has taken on water and coal and is sitting in the station quietly chuffing and venting steam. It appears as though you will be the only passengers aboard the train for the return trip.

The young woman in the telegraph office hands out return telegrams to Miss. Kovalsic and Miss. DeNimes. Buford stands by her counter scribbling something down on a piece of paper and handing it to her before smiling and winking.

Helen reads her telegram, frowns and sits on a bench next to the platform door, Ruby is sitting between her and Mariette working on some repair stitching, Mariette's eyes are closed and she looks as if she might doze off at any moment.

There's a clatter from the telegraph office and the girl begins to scribble a message down.

A skinny old fellow with a glorious handlebar mustache and perfectly maintained sides burns opens the door to the station. "All Aboard!" He calls, "Needles, Barstow, Bakerfield, Fresno, San Jose and San Francisco."

"That sounds like us," Helen remarks fanning the pages of her notebook to dry the ink before closing it and tucking it away.

Ruby stands and helps Mariette to her feet, "Come along Miss, we'll get you on a nice sofa so you can be more comfortable."

"Merci."

The telegraph girl runs over to Nathaniel and hands him a piece of paper just before he's about to depart.

You all head back to the first class cabin, there is literally no one other than yourselves or the crew aboard.

"My publicist is of the opinion that chasing anarchists in Zeppelins is a job best left to the men folk," Helen replies irritably.

Mariette glances over at Helen, " Cet homme est un imbécile."

Ruby nods.

Buford sits down in a high back leather chair near the bar and looks around, "So this is how the other half travels?" He nods appreciatively, "A feller could get used fo this."

"Men," Helen says with a harumph, "they can be exceedingly difficult."

Buford chortles and places a glass of whiskey in front of her, "This oughta take the edge off Miss. Kovlasic."

Helen nods, "Thank you Buford."

There's a long whistle from the engine followed by a clunk and a shudder as the train begins to pull out of the station.

Buford pours himself a glass and places the bottle back behind the clockwork bartender.

"How long is this trip?" Mariette asks from the divan she's sitting on.

"We shan't be in till at least noon tomorrow Mademoiselle." Ruby replies.

Mariette groans and gestures towards the clockwork, "Would you be so kind as to see if that contraption has any wine?"

The clockwork blinks and clicks for a moment before a reedy voice replies, "Red or white ma'am?"

"If you tell me you have a Burgundy red I will be forever in your debit."

The automaton clicks and whirs for a moment before pouring a glass of red wine from a black bottle, Ruby gets up and fetches it quickly.

"Merci."

There's a tap at the door and a lanky young man with dark hair dressed in a railway uniform enters the first class coach. "Gentlemen, Ladies. My name is Francis. I shall be your steward for the evening, if there is anything I can do to make your journey more comfortable please do not hesitate to let me know. Dinner will be served in about an hour if that is convenient."