Dan and Miss Prendergast escorted the two hijackers to join their friends in the observation car. Miss Prendergast questioned some of them, finding that they all had a similar story. They had worked on farms that bordered the railroad, and had all been fired or laid off within the last few months. None of them cared to explain why they couldn't hold down a job when the country was ramping up production of everything for the war, though Dan could make a few guesses.

About two weeks ago, a man had come through the towns along the railroad, recruiting men to rob the train. He'd paid them upfront, which was unusual for a criminal, and paid well—​more than they could expect to make in a month on the farm. He must've wanted the Eye of Drov very badly.

The henchmen couldn't agree on what the man looked like or sounded like, and the variations were greater than could be accounted for by disguises. Could a vampire alter his appearance that much? Or was there more than one recruiter? Why did the boss need more men, in that case? And why had he chosen novices with little or no criminal background, who'd surrendered at the first sign of trouble?

The big man had already been on the train, and none of the henchmen had seen him before tonight. Assuming he hadn't snuck on at one of the service stops, he must have boarded in California. That suggested that the possibility of a connection between the Mr Garibaldi whom the boss had mentioned and the Mr Garibaldi who'd been on the board of Gold River Munitions was stronger than Doctor Fung had first supposed.

The big man was too badly injured to move, so Doctor Fung stayed with him in the baggage car. A wine glass had broken under his lower back when he fell on the table in the lounge car. He'd been in agony walking from the lounge car to the baggage car, and the Doctor suspected some of the shards of glass were pressing on nerves.

The big man refused to state his name or anything about himself. He said he'd boarded in Los Angeles, though of course his ticket would reveal that anyway. As the Doctor had suspected, he'd been in the room next to the Doctor and Dan. He had used the tertiary language of the Disciples of the Dark One to deter anyone from entering. Apparently, he did not read English well enough to realise that he could have achieved the same end with the Do Not Disturb sign.

As for how he had come to know the tertiary language, there were many copies of the book that taught it, not just the one in the City of Flames. Some drove the reader mad; some appeared to be in an indecipherable code; some seemed boring, and the reader would close them as soon as he opened them, if he even took them down from the shelf. There was a special type of crystal that you could place over your eye, like a monocle, which negated the book's protection. You could then read the book and, if you had sufficient strength of will, make a copy of it—​which of course, you would protect to ensure that no one else could read it without the right type of crystal.

Of course, the big man denied all knowledge of the Eye of Drov.

On closer examination of the holes in the baggage car, the Doctor found that their edges curved inwards. This suggested that the flash of red light had been the Eye projecting a sphere of energy around itself, with a radius of perhaps six feet. Everything that had been inside the sphere had been removed—​whether taken somewhere else, or simply annihilated, the Doctor couldn't say. That presumably explained why the boss's shoes and feet had been left behind—​they'd been outside the sphere, and had been neatly detached from his legs.

Sanford kept everyone supplied with coffee to make sure they stayed awake. At around two o'clock, some police came by road from Cimarron, the nearest town, to take the hijackers away.

Dan and the Doctor searched the big man's room. They found his ticket (Los Angeles to Chicago) in the nightstand, and a jacket, shirt and pair of pants in the wardrobe. Apart from those, there were no possessions, and everything was clean. Even the bed had been made.

Having nothing else to do, Dan and the Doctor went to bed. In the middle of the night, Dan woke to the train rocking, accompanied by distant clanging—​the wrecked baggage car being uncoupled and the locomotives being attached to the remainder of the train. Soon after that, the train began moving, much more slowly than before the hijack.

The Doctor woke Dan for breakfast just before six o'clock. Once again, they had crossed time zones while he'd been asleep, so it was now actually seven. The train had pulled into a siding in Dodge City. The sun peeped over the tops of buildings up ahead.

Partway through the meal, the conductor came through the car and spoke to the passengers at each table. He gave some of them small slips of paper. When he reached Dan and the Doctor, he said, "Good morning, gentlemen. As you might have heard me saying to the other passengers, we had a little mechanical trouble overnight, and we're currently about six hours late. We're waiting here for a relief crew."

A smile flickered across the Doctor's lips. Dan supposed that the term mechanical trouble could be stretched to include the train developing big holes.

"Are you departing the train in Kansas City, or are you booked all the way to Chicago?"

"Chicago," the Doctor replied.

"OK, you'll probably get there soonest if you stay on this train. As soon as the relief crew arrives, we're going to try to make up some time."

"We are booked on a train from Chicago to New York City that leaves at 3:30 this afternoon."

The conductor shook his head. "We're not going to make up that much time. Are you taking the General?"

"Yes."

"Your best bet is to catch it tomorrow. We'll tell the Pennsy staff about our delay, and they should accept your tickets."

Soon after the conductor had moved to the next table, a woman asked, "Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?"

Dan looked up to see Miss Prendergast smiling at him. She looked a lot more awake than he felt. There were plenty of vacant tables, but the Doctor said, "Be our guest."

"Thank you for all your help yesterday," she said. "Though after what happened in the baggage car, I'm not sure whether it was actually me who was helping you."

"In that case," the Doctor said, "thank you for your help, Miss Prendergast."

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you of this, but you mustn't tell anyone about me or, ah, the man I was hoping to interview. Not unless you're certain that they work for the same agency as me."

So she was back to pretending to be a journalist. Dan was OK with that.

"You can be assured of our discretion, my dear," the Doctor replied.

She didn't scowl at being called my dear that time. She lifted her purse onto the table, then glanced at the nearby passengers. She took out a thick, worn envelope and slid it across the table to Doctor Fung. The Doctor briefly studied the writing on it before tucking it into his jacket.

"I found it in his room," she whispered. "I think it might be of interest to you, but I'm going to need to have it back before I leave the train. I'm getting off in Chicago."

"So are we," said the Doctor.

"Then I'll see you at lunch." She slid out of the seat and walked along the aisle towards the rear of the train. Dan resisted the temptation to turn and watch her.