The Trainmasters (7 page)

“Well, there’s always a first time,” she said, dismissing whatever problems William Patterson might now be facing.

“He’s a fool. And he doesn’t much interest me. I only hope that the board has sense enough to remove him when they meet on
Wednesday.”

“That’s very possible,” Thomson agreed. “The sentiment is certainly inclining that way. But in his favor,” he added, “Drew
and Vanderbilt seemed to like him.”

“He was all smiles, I take it—flattery and compliments —the way he always is.” “Exactly.”

“The man has the character of a pillow. He takes the form of whatever is sitting on him.”

He laughed. “You would think,” he said, “that men as worldly as Daniel Drew and Cornelius Vanderbilt would see through a man
like Patterson.”

“They haven’t known him as long as we have.”

“Alas, no.”

“And you?” she said. “How did you fare?”

“Me?” he smiled. “I was quiet, as is my way. Perhaps too quiet. But I watched, and waited. Perhaps I made sense now and again
when I did talk.”

“Someday I’ll convince you that you don’t have to be modest.”

He smiled again, like a boy, a little bit embarrassed.

Kitty knew that when her father had something to say, he made devastating sense. He was not flashy or dramatic the way Will
Patterson was. But she was well aware that if anyone had made a genuine, powerful, and lasting impression on Astor, Vanderbilt,
and Drew, it was her father.

“You look very tired,” Kitty said, rising from her chair and approaching him.

“I’m exhausted. Totally depleted. I’m an engineer, not a financier. And I’m not comfortable discussing large sums of money…
And
those
financiers! My God, Kitty, but talking to those three is like submitting to vampires. They drain your blood.”

“Tell me about them,” she said.

“About the financiers?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Kitty,” he said. “Not tonight, please.”

“Please, Father. Do tell me about them,” she said. “I want to know if they will buy the new stock that Will Patterson has
had issued.”

“All right,” he said, relenting. Actually, he wanted to tell her. But he was also truly exhausted by the day’s events. “It’s
very hard to say what will happen about the stock. When Will finally came out and proposed that to them, they gave him the
look vampires give when they are asked for blood.”

“Does that mean no?”

“I couldn’t tell. It may simply mean that they loathe parting with money. It may mean that they want to talk it over among
themselves or with their advisers. It could also mean that they want to think of all the possible consequences of the railroad’s
current situation.”

“One of which is that the Pennsylvania is vulnerable.”

“Exactly,” he sighed.

“And advantage could be taken of that vulnerability.”

“I’m sure the thought passed through the minds of both Vanderbilt and Drew. They both have used the weaknesses of others to
enrich themselves in the past.”

She knew of some of the past exploits and escapades of Cornelius Vanderbilt and Daniel Drew—in passenger shipping and more
recently in connection with the project to build the Nicaragua Canal. Drew was famous for treachery, and the “Commodore,”
as Vanderbilt was called, was famous merely for his ruthlessness. Kitty was disgusted by treachery and deception, but she
admired ambitious ruthlessness.

“And now will you let me go to bed?” Thomson said.

“Not yet,” she said, smiling coquettishly, like the manipulative little girl she sometimes affected to be. “First tell me
about Vanderbilt.”

He lifted his arms above his head in defeat.

‘Tell me,” she repeated.

“Vanderbilt is the best of the three, I’d guess. Very tall, very good looking, very powerfully built. He looks younger than
his years.”

“What is his age?”

“Fifty-four or fifty-five, I think,” Thomson said. “He swears like a sailor, and he has the morals of a pirate. I kept expecting
him to haul down the colors and haul up the Jolly Roger. And yet, I think if I had to trust any of those three, it would be
him.”

“And the others?”

“Astor is fat and ponderous and taciturn. He likes to affect the look of a man who is strong, silent, and wise. But he seems
merely stupid to me. Of the three, he seemed the least interested in the railroad… the least interested in anything beyond
himself.”

“And Drew?”

“Not much to look at. Gloomy. Always seemed to be in a shadow. A bit coarse, but then so is Vanderbilt. And yet Vanderbilt
is a
man
. About Mr. Drew, I have my doubts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Though, as I said, he is a bit gloomy and he has his coarse side, Daniel Drew is energetic and shrewd, and he has great drive.
He has the look of a man who is used to people buying without question what he offers to sell. And he also has the look of
a man who wins most of the battles he fights. At the same time, he professes to be deeply religious. He wears his Christianity
like a suit of armor; he quotes the Bible like a parson, and he is as friendly and concerned for your well-being as an undertaker.”

She laughed. “You don’t like him?”

“I’d rather do business with rats and snakes and scorpions. And yet,” he said, “he did seem to understand our needs, and he
appeared to want to work with us.”

“Even though he is a director and major shareholder in the Erie?” she asked. The Erie Railroad ran from the Hudson River through
southern New York to the shores of Lake Erie, from where it connected with several western routes. When the Pennsylvania was
completed, it would doubtless prove to be serious competition to that line.

“He is primarily an investor, I think, and secondarily a partisan of one enterprise over another.”

“I see,” she said. “And so, in summary, Mr. Astor seems disinterested in us. Mr. Vanderbilt is a cipher. And Mr. Drew seems
for us, but he is not to be trusted. Is that it?”

“Very close.”

And then he moved toward the door, for exhaustion had finally taken him by the throat.”

“No, wait,” she pleaded.

“Kitty. I
must
sleep.”

She looked at him and saw that this time he meant it.

“Then you will talk to me some more tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow, Kitty. Let me have my Sunday in peace.”

“Oh, all right. Then I will talk to you on Monday.”

“Not on Monday either, Kitty.”

“Then when?”

“Later.”

“I remind you, my dear father—yet again—that I am a graduate of Oberlin College, that I am
your
daughter, and that I know as much about the workings and the finances of a railroad as any man….”

Thomson only half heard her, because as she spoke he walked toward the stairway that led up to the bedrooms.

But then a new thought struck him, a thought that had been gnawing at him since the dedication ceremony. And so he turned
back into the parlor.

“I’d like to say a few words to you,” he said when he was once again in the room. His voice had become stem, and there was
an angry edge to it.

“I thought you were going to bed.”

“What happened this afternoon at the dedication?” he asked.

“At the dedication?”

“What caused your embarrassing display?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, having difficulty focusing on the direction of his thought.

“At the christening of the Tiger,” he said, “when you rejected the arrangements that had been carefully planned and set up
and took the champagne down to the locomotive.” “Oh, that,” she giggled.

“You’re laughing? I thought what you did was shameful.”

“Really, Father, don’t be so stuffy. I had a lovely vision when I was on the platform. I decided I wanted to christen the
Tiger by myself, instead of using that silly rope business.”

“But christening the Tiger by yourself was uncalled for,” he said lamely.

“Perhaps, Father. But I
did
enjoy doing it.”

“Please, Kitty, in the future, try not to be so impulsive.”

With that she laughed again. “Oh, do go to bed, Father. You’re being nothing but an old grouch.”

He turned toward the stairs once again. “Perhaps,” he said before leaving, “but did you ever consider, my dear, that you really
are much too impulsive?”

She laughed again. “Really, Father,” she said. “Go to bed!”

Three

“You are ready?” Goddard asked, his English thickly accented with the vowels and consonants of his native French tongue.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” John Carlysle said. And then he turned to his two younger sons, Alex and David. “Boys?” he inquired.

“Ready, Father,” Alex said. David simply grinned ecstatically.

“Hold the side of the basket, please,” Goddard said. And then he placed David’s hands on the wicker railing.

John Carlysle tilted his head back and looked directly above him. There, not ten feet away, was an enormous silk and india-rubber
envelope—a hydrogen-filled balloon. He and his boys were standing with Goddard in a basket that was suspended from the balloon
by a web of silken ropes. Soon they would ascend.

“I am now releasing the lines,” Goddard said, with a carnival showman’s dramatic tones and inflections.

He slipped various knots, and the balloon, untethered to the earth save for one long line, jerked up into the sky.

“OOOhhh!” David screamed, more in pleasure than in consternation.

John laughed at him and at himself, for it felt as if his own insides had turned violently when the balloon rose.

Almost instantly, the balloon slowed to a more leisurely and comfortable pace, and John was able to pay attention to his surroundings
rather than his own internal weather. What he saw when he looked out was the ground moving away from him. Or at least that
is what it felt like. On the ground was Goddard’s complicated apparatus for producing and storing hydrogen gas. And a little
farther away John saw the wagons where he stored his balloon and equipment.

Beyond that were the pastoral hills and meadows of Fair-mount Park, Philadelphia’s largest open public space. The park stretched
along the Schuylkill River in the northwest part of the city. The river was now clearly visible to the four aeronauts. Since
it was early spring, the trees were all a haze of green from new buds. And along many of the park’s pathways were splashes
of rainbow colors that emanated from beds of blooming crocuses and tulips. It was Sunday afternoon, and the park was full
of people pushing strollers and reclining in lawn chairs, and of children playing games.

“What do you think of all this?” John asked Alex.

“I… it’s
wonderful]
” Alex was gripping the sides of the basket with all his might. “I wouldn’t change where I am for anything!”

“1 wouldn’t either,” David said, his eyes shining with excitement.

John laughed again. “I feel exactly the same way,” he said. “This is an absolutely wonderful experience!”

Goddard, meanwhile, was pointing out various points of interest. “There,” he said, “is the Schuylkill River. And to the north
of us in the park, next to the river, is the municipal waterworks. Very modern. Very up to date. This park was built because
of the waterworks and the reservoir lake. And there, on the other side of the park, is the railroad to Harrisburg.”

“Is that the Pennsylvania track?” Alex asked.

“No, that belongs to the state railroad,” John said. “The Pennsylvania line actually starts in Harrisburg, but its trains
use those tracks.”

“And to the south, one can see the Delaware River,” Goddard continued. “And there,” he pointed, “is the confluence of the
Schuylkill and the Delaware. And there is Delaware Bay. Beyond that is the ocean.”

“I can see the ocean,” David said.

“You cannot,” Alex said.

“Just because you can’t see the ocean,” David said. “You can’t see your nose.”

“Boys!” John warned, but only half heartedly. His eye had followed the train tracks back to the rail yards of the Pennsylvania
line. He and the boys had been there hardly more than an hour before. They had had no idea then that an hour later they would
be flying.