Hydrofoil Mystery (2 page)

I can still see the look of shock and disappointment on my mother's face when she opened that door and saw me standing with the officer. He explained how I'd been a found-in” when they raided a gambling house. She
hardly spoke a word to me that night or the next morning. I wished she would yell. It would have been easier.

The train jolted again and my eyes popped open. I instantly realized that we weren't just adding another car, the train was starting to move out of the station. A number of passengers were leaning out of the windows, waving goodbye to friends or family on the platform. I knew my mother would be standing there, looking for me. Part of me wanted to go and wave to her—it was the last I was going to see of her for at least two months—but I remained slumped in my seat. I hadn't hugged her back when she had wrapped her arms around me before I boarded the train, or answered her when she'd said “I love you.” Maybe she could send me away, but she couldn't make me say goodbye.

“W
AKE UP, SON.”

I looked up to see the conductor standing over top of me.

“I need to see your ticket.”

Half asleep, I fumbled in my jacket pocket, pulled it out and handed it to him.

“Going all the way to Iona, I see,” he said.

“No,” I answered, shaking my head. “Baddeck.

I'm heading to Baddeck.”

“You may be, but this train isn't. Iona is the end of the line.”

“But how can I get to Baddeck?” I asked anxiously. “There's a ferry out of Iona that goes across Bras d'Or Lake, it'll get you there,” he said as he punched my ticket and then handed it back to me. He started to walk away.

“How far are we out of Halifax?” I called after him. He turned back to face me. “Almost five hours.”

I had no idea I'd been asleep that long. I'd drifted off a few more times after we'd left Halifax, but it seemed every few minutes the train stopped at some little station in the middle of nowhere to pick up or drop off passengers and parcels. I guess at some point I really had fallen asleep. The only question now was how I was going to spend the remaining ten hours of this trip. I got up. I needed to find a washroom and stretch my legs.

I left my bags there at the seat and started down the aisle toward the rear of the train. More than half of the seats were empty. The occupied ones were filled with a variety of different people—men, probably farmers, dressed in overalls and sitting by themselves, whole families with children sleeping between their parents, and salesmen in stiff-collared suits with their sample cases at their feet. I pushed open the door and stepped out between the two cars. Up above, in the gap of open sky, was a stream of black smoke flowing back from the engine. As I stood there, a few flecks of soot and ash dropped down onto my face. I brushed them away and moved into the adjoining club car.

I had no sooner stepped inside than I spied a card game going on. Four tired-looking salesmen were sitting facing each other around a table. Their sample cases were pushed out into the aisle. I slowed down as I got close to them. They were laughing loudly, and I saw one of them take a long swig from a flask and pass the bottle to the guy beside him. He took a drink and coughed loudly. Whatever was in that flask must have been strong stuff. As
I passed by I saw a stack of bills and coins in front of each man, as well as a pile of money in the middle. I also noticed that each man was holding five cards. They were playing straight poker—one of my favourite games. Casually, I passed just beyond the game and took a seat on the edge of a chair just two down from them. I figured I'd found the way to pass the remaining hours on the train.

“W
ELL KID
, how many cards do you want?” the dealer asked gruffly.

“Two cards,” I answered, discarding the two I didn't want face down into the pile. Awkwardly, he dealt me two cards to replace them. After watching the original card players for the better part of an hour I'd worked up the nerve to ask to play. At first they'd been reluctant, but when they'd found out I had money, and no parent on board the train to look after me, they'd agreed to deal me in. Over the next few hours I'd played poker and managed to more than double my money. Instead of just the five dollars my mother had given me, and twelve dollars she didn't even know I had, I was now sitting on almost thirty-five bucks.

There was a steady stream of new players as one salesman reached his destination and left the train to be replaced in the game by somebody who'd just come on board. Nobody was there long enough to win or lose more than a few dollars. For the most part they weren't bad players. The way these old guys all seemed to know each other, I suspected that travelling salemen played cards almost as much as sailors.

The next hand was dealt. As I looked at my cards I tried to mentally count the money sitting in my pile.

There was still a long way to go, and if I could keep on winning at this pace I'd have over a hundred dollars in my pocket before we reached Iona. Maybe that would be enough for me to just turn back around—buy a ticket back to Halifax, spend the summer with my friends and forget all about being some fancy servant in Baddeck. Boy, would that be something.

“How about if we raise the limit on bets?” I said.

The other three men looked up from their cards and directly at me, and the guy dealing stopped for a minute. “What did you have in mind, kid?” the dealer asked. “I don't know. Maybe we could double it,” I suggested.

Nobody spoke. “Unless you gentleman aren't up to the challenge,” I added, not so subtly taunting them.

“Hah! I think I can handle that action,” one of them responded.

“Unless your mama's going to object,” added another, and they all started to chuckle.

“My mother is two hundred miles down the line from here. You sure your mamas and wives are okay with it?”

The dealer looked around at the other players. One scowled and the other three smiled slightly, but all nodded in agreement. “Okay, kid, I think we might be prepared to take some of your money … after all, it's as good as anybody else's. Let's play poker.”

Chapter Two

“S
ON, ARE YOU ALL
right?” the conductor asked.

“I'm fine,” I said softly, lifting my head off my hands. “It's just that we've been in the station a while.

Everybody else has already disembarked. This is the end of the line. You are getting off, aren't you?”

I nodded my head. What choice did I have now? Slowly I rose and then bent down to pick up my two bags.

“Did you lose much money?” he asked.

“A little,” I answered. What I couldn't answer—what I could hardly believe—was that I'd lost everything. In my pocket were the few coins I had left. Somewhere down the line things had started to go wrong. At first it happened slowly, but then it got worse and worse. And as I started to lose I got more desperate to try to win back what I'd lost and try to gain what I needed to escape from a summer in Baddeck. But it didn't work. I'd never seen such luck before! Hand after hand, they just kept on winning and I kept on losing. Finally, in one drastic bid to get even all at once, I bet almost all that I had left … and lost. It was right after that that the four salesmen all said they'd reached their station and left the train together.

“I've seen those men play poker before. They don't seem to lose too often,” the conductor said. “I figure a few
of them make more money off the gaming table than they do selling anything out of their sample cases.” He paused. “You're going to Baddeck, aren't you?”

I nodded.

“Then you really better get moving. The
Blue Hill
is scheduled to be leaving soon.”

“The
Blue Hill
?”

“The ferry that goes to Baddeck.” He pulled out his watch. “She leaves in about five min—”

His words were drowned out by the blast of a loud horn.

“That would be the
Blue Hill
letting everybody know she's almost built up a big enough head of steam to be heading out,” he continued.

“Where do I find the ship?” I asked in alarm as I stumbled down the aisle after the conductor.

He stopped and held the door to the next car. “She better be in the lake or there'll be trouble,” he laughed. He saw I wasn't enjoying his little joke and his expression and tone changed. “Just go down the street to the town wharf. The
Blue Hill
will be tied …”

His words were again lost in the blast of its horn. “And you better hurry, son. If you miss her, she won't be back until tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow! How do I get to the ship?” I asked in panic.

He raised his hand and pointed out the window. “Foot of the street. You can't miss her. She's the biggest thing at the wharf.”

I grabbed my bag and flung it on my shoulder. I bumped past the conductor still holding the door and bounded
down the stairs of the carriage two at a time. I hit the ground running, and almost tumbled over. A wide, dirt street ran downhill from the station. It was lined on both sides with stores and plank sidewalks. Horses and carriages were tied up at the hitching posts. At the bottom of the street, no more than two or three blocks away, I could see the shimmer of water. The ship's horn blared again and I doubled my pace. Ever since hearing that I'd be spending my summer working in Baddeck, I'd thought it was the last place on earth I wanted to be. Now I realized it was the second-last place; the last would be stranded here for the night.

Hitting the foot of the street I saw the wharf just over to the side. A number of vessels, including a large ship I hoped was the
Blue Hill
, were still at the dock. There was smoke rising from its stack, and a couple of sailors were by the lines getting ready to cast off.

“Wait!” I yelled.

A woman and a young girl up ahead turned and stared at me, but neither of the sailors even looked up from their work. My voice couldn't carry over the sounds of the ship's engine. One of the men threw his line aboard the vessel and jumped on after it. I hit the wharf and the pounding of my feet echoed against the wood. The second man stood up and tossed his line onto the ship, which slowly started into motion, gliding parallel to the dock. It was moving, but I was gaining.

“Hold on! Wait!”

Both sailors, one on the dock and the second on the ship, looked up at me, but they were helpless now to stop the boat. It was picking up speed, and a little slit of water
opened between it and the dock. It was only a few feet away; I was going to miss it by a few crummy feet … or was I?

“
AAAAAHHHH
!” I screamed as I reached the edge of the dock and leaped into the air, hitting the deck of the ship and rolling forward, until I crashed into a bulkhead.

“Jeeze! Are ya crazy, laddie?”

I looked up at the sailor who'd cast off the lines. He was old and grizzled. A second sailor, not that much older than me, rushed over, and the two of them pulled me to my feet. I bent down and picked up my bag.

“I … I … had to … catch … the ferry,” I panted, trying to get my breath.

“You almost caught yourself a dip in the lake. Where are you going that's so all-fired important you couldn't wait for tomorrow's ferry?” the older sailor asked.

“Baddeck. I'm … going to … Baddeck.” A terrible thought flooded my mind. What if this wasn't the
Blue Hill
? What if I'd jumped onto the wrong ferry? In my headlong rush I hadn't time to even look around to see if this was the right ship.

“The
Blue Hill
… this is the
Blue Hill
? Right?”

The sailors exchanged a look and they both started to chuckle.

“Be mighty funny if you went to all this effort and jumped onto the wrong ship, wouldn't it?” the older sailor asked.

“The wrong ship … you mean this is the wrong ship?” I questioned in a trembling voice.

“Herbie, don't be giving the kid such a hard time,” the younger man cautioned.

“I'm just playing with the lad. This is the
Blue Hill
. It would be mighty funny
if
you'd jumped on the wrong ship, is all.”

“We're Baddeck bound. What's so important about you getting there?” the younger man asked.

“I'm going up there to work for the summer.” I deliberately didn't tell them where. I didn't want anybody to think of me as some sort of servant or farm hand.

“Well, you'll get there in time for work tomorrow. Now, judging by the way you came aboard, I would guess you didn't have time to pay your fare.”

“No … I didn't have time.”

“Well you have time now. We won't be getting into Baddeck for close to four hours. You just go and see the first mate and pay for your passage.”

I pushed my left hand deep into the pocket of my trousers and felt for the few remaining coins. There were four or five. “How much is it?” I asked, wondering if I had enough and what would happen if I didn't. I pictured myself shovelling coal into the boiler for the entire trip.

“Twenty-five cents for a one-way trip. And if you're looking for a little breakfast you can find fresh buns, baked goods and hot coffee in the forward lounge. We always put aboard the best fresh baking from the bakery in Iona.”

I dug the coins out and looked at them. Two dimes, a nickel and a penny. Enough for the passage but not for breakfast.

“I'm not really hungry,” I lied.

Almost on cue my stomach gurgled, and I felt like cursing out loud.

“Come on with me and we'll find the first mate,” Herbie said as he started around the side of the ship. I fell in behind. We circled around to the front and he pointed out a man with a beard standing at the very prow of the ship.

I started toward the first mate.

“Hold on, son,” Herbie called out, and I stopped. “The mate might be a little bit miffed about you coming on without a ticket … especially if he hears how you came aboard. Give me your money and I'll take care of things for you.”