The Trainmasters (29 page)

One of the beauties was Kitty Lancaster, the daughter of the chief engineer of the railway. The other was an Irish lass named
Teresa O’Rahilly, with whom Tom managed to spend a great deal of time, even though she seemed closely attached to the wounded
man. The less comely woman, it turned out, was Teresa O’Rahilly’s sister-in-law; the little girl belonged to her. The man
with the wound was called Graham Carlysle. It became apparent that his father had something to do with Thomson, though Collins
could not ascertain what; whatever it was would doubtless repay further research. And the two boys were his brothers.

This little group had been in quite a dither when they embarked in Philadelphia; they had made their departure from the city
in a breathless, hectic, furious scramble. Collins had overheard whispers that intrigued him: One name, Kean, was repeated
over and over.

There was only one Kean that mattered in Philadelphia, and that Kean was soon to become Tom Collins’s partner in Mr. Abraham
Gibbon’s railroad project.

Thus, before the nine o’clock westbound train had left the Philadelphia suburbs, Tom had made himself useful to the little
group. No man could insinuate himself into the confidence of others quite as well as an expriest who is onto a mark. Little
acts of thoughtful attention go a long way in winning over those who were susceptible to his charm (in the event it was card
games with the children and errand running during station stops that did the trick). And by the time the train had reached
Harrisburg some hours later, Collins was convinced that the women in the party considered him to be not only a kind companion
but a true friend. The man, Graham, spent most of his time asleep or dozing.

When the train finally arrived in Tyrone on Wednesday morning, Collins found the town all atwitter with the news that a few
of the men caught in the tunnel disaster up at Gallitzin had survived. Two of these men had miraculously made what was already
becoming in the telling an epic journey through the caves inside the mountain. They had actually met their rescuers at the
cave’s entrance.

There were no details about any of these men. No one in Tyrone even knew their identities.

But this news seemed to inspire the group around Kitty Lancaster to even greater haste. And so they were all hurried aboard
their coach connection to Gallitzin as soon as the train had come to a halt. They expected to arrive at the tunnel by noon.

All in all, Tom Collins was most pleased with himself and the way things were going. The tunnel cave-in—even though he had
not had a hand in it—couldn’t have worked out better for his purposes if he had planned it himself. And now he was journeying
to the tunnel site with a company of people he was convinced he could put to good use in the weeks and months to come.

During the course of Tom Collins’s training for the priesthood, he had been taught to avoid expressions of joy and gaiety.
But as the coach lurched and jounced up the rocky road to Gallitzin, a huge grin—half-silly, half-seraphic— spread over his
face.

He was an icon of heavenly delight and satisfaction. No kid was happier after his first secret and illicit taste of tobacco
smoke behind the hedge. No boy of sixteen was more rapturous when he first touched his tongue to an adolescent girl’s tan
and trembling nipple.

William Patterson, like Edgar Thomson, was rushing toward Philadelphia on that Wednesday morning. He had set out from New
York City on the six o’clock ferry to Jersey City, and from there he had embarked on the southbound train.

As he sat back in his seat and watched the countryside speed by, Patterson looked like an ideal picture of delight and accomplishment.
After several hours of hard bargaining the evening before, he had achieved his goals in a deal with Daniel Drew and Cornelius
Vanderbilt.

The beauty of it all for William Patterson was that he had obtained rather more from Drew and Vanderbilt than they thought
they were giving, and they had obtained rather less from him than they thought they were receiving. Patterson had issued to
himself a block of five thousand shares of Pennsylvania stock with a par value of $50. He then used half of the block to secure
a note in the amount of $100,000 with Cornelius Vanderbilt. And the other half secured a note of the same amount with Daniel
Drew. Both men, in addition, had agreed to subscribe to $1,000,000 apiece of the bond issue that the board of directors would
authorize at the Wednesday meeting. They would purchase the $930,000 they had each agreed to acquire in ten equal installments.

With these two men thus participating, Patterson was confident that the railroad would have no difficulty selling the balance
of the six-million-dollar bond issue. Thus his future as president of the Pennsylvania Railroad was now assured.

At this moment he carried in his bag two bank draughts from each man in the amounts of $100,000 and $93,000, for a total of
$386,000.

Of this, $186,000 belonged technically to the railroad, but the railroad was not going to see that money immediately, for
Patterson had other more pressing uses for it. The block of five thousand shares that he had issued to himself in order to
secure the loans with Drew and Vanderbilt was not actually his to issue.

But these were both problems for another day.

His immediate concern was a mine near Angels Camp, California, of which he was half owner. Without $350,000 to reimburse creditors
and to pay for new equipment and labor, the mine would close down. But with it, the gold seam the mine lay on top of could
be profitably exploited; and the mine would soon return for William Patterson at least ten times the $386,000 he was “borrowing”
now to keep it in operation. The additional $36,000 was for expenses and contingencies.

This $386,000 was not a bad day’s work, he thought to himself as he savored a cigar and observed the New Jersey fields and
pastures the train raced by at a fabulous fourteen miles per hour. And so it was with delighted anticipation that he contemplated
the triumph over Edgar Thomson that he would soon reap.

If he was apprehensive about his prospects beyond the immediate future, he did not betray it either then or later that afternoon
when he watched Thomson’s humiliation before the board.

It was not long after the coach from Tyrone arrived that John Carlysle learned who had arrived on it. He quickly walked up
to the camp groggery, where the passengers had been deposited.

That he did not expect these people—his three sons, Kitty Lancaster, and the wife, daughter and sister of Egan O’Rahilly—to
arrive at this time in this place was an understatement. He was utterly astonished to find them at Gallitzin.

But it turned out that their astonishment on hearing the news from the camp was even greater than his in finding them there.

Egan O’Rahilly alive and well! After surviving the cave-in, he and a friend had embarked on an incredible underground odyssey!
That John Carlysle had actually met Egan at the mouth of the caves seemed equally incredulous. And since Egan had led John
and three other men back through the caves so that they could bring out those men who still remained appeared to them to be
yet another miracle. It was incredible! Simply incredible!

Kitty herself was thoroughly struck dumb when she first heard John’s story, while the O’Rahillys were all in tears. As the
story proceeded, Kitty was moved to join them, but she held back that impulse, for she felt it was right for the O’Rahillys
to experience their moment of elation and release unencumbered by her presence. Before long, however, she found that her body
could no longer resist the deeper motions of her soul, and she, too, burst into tears.

In the midst of the joyful weeping, Deirdre O’Rahilly asked John if she could go to her husband’s side. John told her that
he would be glad to take her shortly, as soon as he could free himself from the other people who had just arrived. John explained
that Egan was asleep and had been so for hours. The doctor who had treated his wounds had forbidden visitors until the following
morning at the earliest. But John told her that he would be able to take her in to see Egan much sooner than that. He knew
how much she longed to be reunited with her husband.

Deirdre nodded her understanding, and then she began weeping once more.

With a mask of stoic patience, John waited for the tears to subside. But beneath his patience he was in turmoil. The weeping
itself did not disturb him; he could appreciate the emotions that gave rise to it. But he was able to be only partially attentive
to the women as they cried. He was too worried about what he was going to do about them.

Taking care of women and children was the last thing John wanted in this rough, comfortless camp. Where would they sleep?
How could he assure them privacy? How could he protect them?

Yet, as he waited he remained calm. He did not let himself become angry toward any of those who were now thrust upon him—even
toward Kitty Lancaster, who was clearly the group’s leader. He wanted to hear their story before he made a judgment.

And in truth, he was glad to see his sons. For he had come to miss them since the camp had calmed down after the excitement
of the discovery of the caves and of his successful expedition through them. He wanted his boys to share with him his joy
and triumph.

He was even glad to see Graham, even though it was evident that Graham had been in serious trouble back in Philadelphia. That
was, indeed, the proximate cause of the presence of the women and children.

The gunshot wound Graham had suffered looked to be clean; it was not suppurating, and it would probably heal soon.

John was greatly interested in the beautiful young woman who had chosen to accompany Graham and nurse him. He was especially
interested in her after he learned that she was Egan O’Rahilly’s sister. That passionate and sensitive young man had fascinated
John Carlysle from the first moment John met him in the caves, even though O’Rahilly had not once yielded in his hostility
to John. John was British, and in Egan O’Rahilly’s mind there could be nothing but hatred for him.

John was especially glad to see Kitty. Her presence pleased and warmed him. Although she had come on what appeared to be a
thoughtless impulse, John admired her ability to take control of a situation and make decisions.

At first John hadn’t particularly noticed the older man who was accompanying them. He seemed to be just another Irish railroad
worker. But Kitty made a point of introducing Tom Collins to John and to explain that he had been kind and helpful on the
long and arduous journey to Gallitzin. That information did not rate more than a polite nod from John. But when the man turned
out to be the labor contractor with whom he would be dealing most often during the construction, John took notice. He would
be dealing with this man; he better get to know him.

What he saw, he decided, he didn’t much like. But he ignored his assessment for the moment. He had other, more pressing, concerns.

After the initial greetings and exchange of information, John suggested that the entire present company, including Collins,
try to rest and refresh themselves as much as possible in the filthy groggery, since there was no other place nearby that
was more suitable. After they had relaxed a little, everyone could be brought completely up to date.

So they all retired into the building.

There was little light within the groggery, only what filtered through the unglazed, shuttered windows and the open doorway.
But the group found places to sit and made themselves as comfortable as they could in the chill and gloom. Before long they
had begun to relate their stories in full:

First, Kitty, Graham, and Teresa O’Rahilly told John about the clash with the Kean brothers that led to Graham’s wound and
Ben’s death.

Once he’d heard the whole of that exciting, sordid tale, John understood Kitty’s reasons for bringing Graham and Teresa to
Gallitzin. He realized that she had been right in doing that. And it was of course most compassionate of her to offer to take
O’Rahilly’s wife and daughter along with the others.