df.theedge-第21部分

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igure　in　shirt；　sweater　and　jeans。　I　knew　an　immovable　object　when　I　saw　it；　and　I　retreated　through　the　first　sleeping　car；　where　grooms　in　T…shirts　lolled　in　open　day　partments　（shut　off　by　heavy　felt　curtains　for　sleeping）；　on　my　way　to　consult　with　the　Chinese　chef　in　the　forward　dome　car's　kitchen。
　　'The　Conductor？'　he　said　in　answer　to　my　question。　'He　is　here。'　He　pointed　along　the　corridor　towards　the　dining　section。　'You're　lucky。'
　　The　Conductor；　in　his　grey　suit　with　gold　bars　of　long　service　on　his　left　sleeve；　was　sitting　at　the　first　table　past　the　kitchen；　finishing　his　lunch。　There　were　other　diners　at　other　tables；　but　he　was　alone；　using　his　lunch　break　to　fill　in　papers　laid　out　on　the　cloth。　I　slid　into　one　of　the　seats　opposite　him　and　he　raised　his　eyes　enquiringly。
　　'I'm　from　Merry　&　Co；'　I　said。　'I　believe　you　know　about　me。'
　　'Tommy？'　he　said；　after　thought。
　　'Yes。'
　　He　put　a　hand　across　the　table；　which　I　shook。
　　'George　Burley；'　he　said。　'Call　me　George。'
　　He　was　middle…aged；　bulky；　close　cropped　as　to　hair　and　moustache　and　with；　I　discovered；　a　nice　line　in　irony。
　　I　explained　about　the　impasse　at　the　door　of　the　horse　car。
　　His　eyes　twinkled；　'You've　met　the　dragon…lady；　eh？　Ms　Leslie　Brown。　They　sent　her　to　keep　the　grooms　in　order。　Now　she　tries　to　rule　the　train；　eh？'
　　He　had　the　widespread　Canadian　habit　of　turning　the　most　ordinary　statement　into　a　question。　It's　a　nice　day；　eh？
　　'I　hope；'　I　said　politely；　'that　your　authority　outranks　hers。'
　　'You　bet　your　life；'　he　said。　'Let　me　finish　these　papers　and　my　lunch　and　we'll　go　along　there；　eh？'
　　I　sat　for　a　while　watching　the　scenery　slide　by；　wild　uninhabited　stretches　of　green　and　autumn…blazing　trees；　grey　rocks　and　blue　lakes　punctuated　by　tiny　hamlets　and　lonely　houses；　all　vivid　in　the　afternoon　sunshine；　a　panoramic　impression　of　the　vastness　of　Canada　and　the　smallness　of　her　population。
　　'Right；'　George　said；　shuffling　his　papers　together。　'I'll　just　finish　my　coffee；　eh？'
　　'Is　there；'　I　asked；　'a　telephone　on　the　train？'
　　He　chuckled。　'You　bet　your　life。　But　it's　a　radio　phone；　eh？　It　only　works　near　cities　where　they　have　receiver/　transmitters。　At　small　stations；　we　have　to　get　off　and　use　the　regular　phones　on　the　ground；　like　the　passengers　do　at　longer　stops。'
　　'But　can　anyone　use　the　train　telephone？'　I　asked。
　　He　nodded。　'It's　a　pay　phone　by　credit　card；　eh？　Much　more　expensive。　Most　people　stretch　their　legs　and　go　into　the　stations。　It's　in　my　office。'　He　anticipated　my　question。　'My　office　is　in　the　first　sleeping　car　aft　of　the　central　dining　car。'
　　'My　roomette　is　there；'　I　said；　working　it　out。
　　'There　you　are；　then。　Look　for　my　name　on　the　door。'
　　He　finished　his　coffee；　slid　his　papers　into　a　folder　and　took　me　forward　again　to　the　horse　car。　The　dragon　answered　belligerently　to　his　knock　and　stared　at　me　disapprovingly。'He　is　Tommy；'　George　said。　'He　is　a　security　guard　for　Merry　&　Co；　eh？　He　has　the　run　of　the　whole　train　under　my　authority。'
　　She　bowed　in　her　turn　to　an　irresistible　force　and　let　us　in　with　raised　eyebrows　and　an　air　of　power　suspended；　not　abdicated。　She　produced　a　clipboard　with　a　sheet　of　ruled　paper　attached。　'Sign　here；'　she　said。　'Everyone　who　es　in　here　has　to　sign。　Put　the　date　and　time。'
　　I　signed　Tommy　Titmouse　in　a　scrawl　and　put　the　time。　Filmer；　I　was　interested　to　see；　had　been　to　see　his　horse　before　departure。
　　We　walked　forward　into　the　horse　car　with　George　pointing　things　out。
　　'There　are　eleven　stalls；　see？　In　the　old　days　they　carried　twenty…four　horses　in　a　car；　but　there　was　no　centre　aisle；　eh？　No　passage　for　anyone　between　stops。　They　don't　carry　horses　by　train　much　now。　This　car　was　built　in　1958；　eh？　One　of　the　last；　one　of　the　best。　'There　was　a　single　stall　lengthwise　against　the　wall　on　each　side　of　the　entrance　door；　then　a　space；　then　two　more　box…stalls；　one　on　each　side；　then　a　space　where　big　sliding　doors　gave　access　to　the　outer　world　for　loading　and　unloading。　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　int