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a pile.
    “Looks like somebody overturned a salesman’s trunk,” Clarence observed. “But where’s the trunk?”
    “That’s just it, sir. There’s no empty cases in here. I checked the whole car—twice. I was just thinking—”
    As Clarence held up his hand to interrupt James, a million crazy ideas raced through my brain. Was it possible? Had Ellie been kidnapped—knocked out and stuffed into a traveling salesman’s trunk, and then taken off the train?
    “Now let’s not jump to any conclusions and start scaring that poor woman—and the rest of the passengers—to death,” said Clarence. “James, I want you to do me a favor. There must be fifty or sixty pounds of marble tiles here. I want to know who they belong to. Donnie was loading baggage in New York; he must have helped a traveling salesman put a heavy trunk aboard. Find him and bring him here.”
    “Yes, sir,” said James, hurrying out of the car.
    Sam hopped up on one of the trunks that had been moved to hide the mess, then leaped down onto the pile of tiles. He sniffed around them for a while before jumping back up onto a trunk.
    “Something’s not right,”
he said.
“If you’re going to hide them, why not do a better job of it? It’s almost like they wanted us to find them, and quickly.”
    I noticed a balled-up white handkerchief on the floor and bent down to pick it up. When I brought it close to my face for a better look, the smell of it almost knocked me off my feet. Fighting off dizziness, I dropped the handkerchief and waved my hands around, trying to clear the air.
    “Whoa! What is that smell?” I asked, breathing rapidly through my mouth.
    Sam lifted his nose into the air and sniffed.
“I’m not positive, but if I had to guess, it would be chloroform. That’s what you use when you want to knock somebody out in a hurry. Are you all right? You look a little light-headed.”
    Clarence picked up the handkerchief, wrapped it up in his own, and shoved it into his coat pocket. “I don’t like the looks of this—not one bit,” he said as James returned to the baggage area.
    “I found him,” said James, coming back with a young man whose muscles bulged through his porter’s uniform.
    Donnie scratched the back of his neck for a few secondswhen Clarence asked him about the trunk. Suddenly his eyes lighted up. “Oh, right! I remember him. Big fella. Red face. Asked me if I was interested in a new marble floor for me house. I told him I didn’t have a house, sir, but that didn’t slow him down one bit.”
    “Do you remember his name, or what car he was in?” Clarence asked.
    “Never got his name, but he was in compartment D in the second sleeper car back, I think. Don’t know why he didn’t just buy a coach ticket—since he was only going s’far as Albany.”
    “Thank you, Donnie. You’ve been very helpful. You too, James. One more question, then you can return to your duties: did any other passengers with large cases get
off
the train at the Albany station?”
    Donnie shook his head. “No, sir. Just small suitcases.”
    “That’s right, Mr. Nockwood. I was on the platform, too. I would have seen,” said James.
    “I see,” said Clarence. “You’re sure?”
    Both men nodded at Clarence and then left the car.
    “We need to see his compartment right away,”
said Sam, jumping off his trunk.
    Clarence hesitated when he realized that I was still tagging along. “Uh, Henry, I think you’d better let us take it from here,” he said.
    I dropped my shoulders and stared at my shoes, putting on the most dejected and disappointed face I could muster. It worked like a charm.
    “Oh, let the kid come along,”
said Sam.
“He’s already involved, and he knows the girl better than we do. That could come in handy.”
    “Okay, but I go into the compartment first,” said Clarence, leading the way with his passkey in hand.
    I smiled at my mother as we walked past, pausing just long enough to say, “I’m helping the conductor