"Surprised?" He watched as the train gathered speed on a straight section of track, heading into a double-switch plate. "Yes, Hardeen, I suppose I was. But in a town this size, it was getting difficult to carry on avoiding one another. I'd often see him across the room at a restaurant, or reading a newspaper at the club. At first we pretended not to notice, but after a while it began to seem pretty damn silly. I supposed he felt the same way-or so I hoped, at any rate. So I was quite pleased by the invitation."
"Did you have a chance to speak with him?"
"No, sir, I did not. He never came out of the study after Nora and I arrived. We were kept waiting in the morning room." He watched as the locomotive clattered over the switching plate and promptly derailed, plowing straight into the side of a wooden boxcar. "Damn. Just painted that, too."
"I think I see your problem," I said. I stripped off my suit coat and crawled under the platform. "Switch off the power for a minute, would you?"
He tripped the power lever and the hot buzzing ceased. "You know," he said, "I was quite looking forward to seeing Branford again." I heard the sloshing of his whiskey glass. "It's so rare that I meet someone who shares my interests. I was looking forward to telling him about my trains. Nora thought I was building up my hopes for nothing, though. About working together again, I mean."
I rolled over onto my back and tinkered with a loose ground bolt. "Why is that?" I asked.
"Branford's wife. I'm afraid she doesn't care for me."
"Or Miss Hendricks, I would imagine," I said from beneath the platform. I couldn't see his face, but he took a moment to reply.
"Hell," he said. "I suppose that's no secret. Bran was supposed to marry Katherine some years ago. He was smitten with her, and she was fond enough of him, though she thought of him more as an uncle than a husband, I'd venture to say. In any case it seemed a really splendid idea to the pair of us, sitting over port and cigars in the Century one night. We never spoke directly of the business advantages, but it was clear that we'd be uniting the two empires, as it were."
I crawled out from under the train platform to find Hendricks addressing his remarks to his whiskey glass, his face a study in remorse.
"In my own defense, I never forced the matter on Katherine," he continued. "She seemed quite keen on the whole thing. I think Bran may have filled her head with queer ideas-giving her some sort of role in the company or some such. My daughter holds many peculiar views. Reads a great deal of Susan B. Anthony and the other one. What's her name? Elizabeth Cady Stanton. In any case, at least Bran took the time to listen to my daughter when she spoke, which is more than I can say for this pompous young ass who's squiring her about at the moment. Anyway, my daughter's engagement soon came to grief, as you undoubtedly read in the society pages. Why any right-thinking man should leave my daughter at the altar is beyond my ken." He set down his glass. "I'm talking rather a lot, aren't I?"
"Not at all, sir," I said. "I apologize if I've broached an unpleasant subject. I believe I've found the solution to your other little problem, though." I switched the train set back on and sent the locomotive hurtling toward the troublesome portion of the track. It cleared the turn easily and stayed on course for two more high-speed circuits.
"My God, Hardeen!" Hendricks cried. "You're a genius!"
"Hardly, sir. I just loosened two of the bolts holding the track onto the table. There wasn't enough give. The vibration was causing the train to jump the track."
"Damn it, I tried that. I got too much sway from side to side. The train still derailed."
"I compensated for that by replacing these bolt-pins with match sticks. The wood is soft enough to absorb the vibrations but it still controls the wobble."
Hendricks put his face close to the switch-plate and examined my jury-rigging.
"It's not exactly picturesque," I said. "You may want to paint-''
"Brilliant!" he cried. "Just brilliant! Have you any training in this area?"
"Training?"
"Engineering background? That sort of thing?"
"I've toured with a travelling circus for months at a time. Believe me, when you're stuck in Wichita with a broken hinge on your drop-trap, you get pretty good at fixing things with whatever's at hand."
Hendricks watched as the train eased past the turn and headed for the straightaway. "I may have some work for you, Hardeen," he said. "I just might, at that."
We sat together in that room for the better part of two hours, drinking his whiskey and playing with his train.
He reminisced a little about his younger days with General Sherman's XV Corps at Vicksburg, and I talked a bit about touring the backwaters with a medicine show. Sometimes we just sat quietly and watched the train. I don't know that I've ever spent a more pleasant time.
It must have been late afternoon by the time I found my hat and got up to leave. Hendricks tried to get me to stay for dinner, but I had to get down to Huber's and meet Harry. As he led me out of the study, Hendricks invited me to stop back again any time. I know he meant this in all sincerity, but we both realized that starving young magicians don't simply drop in on Fifth Avenue millionaires. He took my visiting card and repeated what he'd said about sending some work my way. I shook his hand and thanked him for his company. The butler could hardly wait to close the door behind me.
I had walked only half a block when I heard footsteps rushing up behind me. A woman's voice called my name. I turned to see Katherine Hendricks hurrying toward me.
"Mr. Hardeen!" she called. "I was afraid I'd missed you!" She was flushed and out of breath as she reached my side. "Father said that you would be staying for tea! I expected I would have had a chance to see you again!"
I removed my hat, wondering why such a charming and lovely young lady should have been so anxious for my company. "I fear that your father and I lost all track of time, Miss Hendricks," I said. "We were entirely absorbed in the workings of his brain."
She dabbed at her face with a square of linen. "I really must speak with you," she said. "May I walk with you for a bit?"
"Certainly." I extended my elbow and she rested her gloved hand on my forearm.
She appeared to be straggling to compose her thoughts, and waited until we were out of sight of the house before speaking again. "Well, Mr. Hardeen," she said with a delicate cough, "the trees are very colorful at this time of year."
"Indeed," I answered.
"In the spring there is such a lovely fragrance from those bushes. What do you suppose they are? Lilacs? I'm not very clever at that sort of thing."
"Magnolias, I believe."
"Magnolias! How marvellous!"
"Miss Hendricks? Did you really pursue me into the street to inquire about the fall foliage?"
She bit her lower lip. "Of course not. You must think me very stupid, but I'm not quite certain how to begin. It is not often that I meet someone who-someone with-forgive me, Mr. Hardeen."
I glanced down at her exquisite profile and felt my cheeks grow hot. Could it be? Did I dare hope? During our brief walk home from the church, had I somehow managed to capture her attention? Had she been charmed by my ragged demeanor? Captivated by my knowledge of model train sets? It did not seem likely, and yet here she was, clinging to my arm and straggling to express some inner torment.
"May I speak candidly, Mr. Hardeen?" she said at last.
"Please do," I said.
"I feel that I must-indeed, I know that I must-"
"Yes?"
"I must speak to your brother."
I stopped walking. "My brother?"
"It is quite urgent."
"May I ask why?"
"My father told me of your brother's wonderful exploit at Mr. Wintour's home last night. I understand that his demonstration of the little doll-the automaton- was quite masterly. It seems to me that he may be just the man to help me with a certain difficulty I am facing. He seems so terribly clever."