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logical explanation. Where did that missing chain with the silver codfish on it come in? Max must have become lost in cogitation, for Marcia Whet reached over to tickle his nose with one of her foxtails.
    “Darling Mr. Gould, you’re not leaving us yet, surely? Not on one silly little glass of champagne? The evening hasn’t even begun.”
    Max opened his eyes and smiled, causing his mustache to twitch beguilingly though he hadn’t intended it to. “Oh, no. I was only thinking about poor old Jem. He’s going to come down with apoplexy when I tell him what he’s missed.”
    Marcia laughed. “They must be having to tie him to the bed. I shouldn’t be a whit surprised to see him come charging down the track after us in a wheelchair with his johnny strung up on his crutches for a sail. Only Jem wouldn’t be wearing anything so prosaic as a hospital johnny, would he? A lovely red-and-white nightshirt would be more his speed, and a cap with a tassel wagging in the wind. Can’t you just see him?”
    She did have a charming laugh. “I’m going to miss Jem terribly tonight, with all respect to your gallant self. You see, I’m much too vain to wear my eyeglasses out in company, so I never know who’s who unless Jem keeps me informed. He has eyesight like an eagle, you know.”
    “I never realized that,” said Max.
    “Oh, my stars, yes. It’s Jem’s great talent. He can spot the vaguest acquaintance half a mile away. I don’t know how he does it, but he remembers every least little thing. You know, such as people’s having one ear higher than the other or walking with their toes turned in. All those minuscule details most of us never even notice. And he knows absolutely everybody, though half the time he isn’t speaking to them. You should see him snooting Obed Ogham.”
    “Is that Ogham in the gray top hat and yellow gloves?”
    “My dear man, didn’t I just this moment tell you I’m blind as a bat? Wait till Obed comes within range of my lorgnette and I’ll point him out to you.”
    “Thanks. I ought to know, for the sake of family unity. Any snoot of Jem’s is a snoot of mine. Tonight, at any rate. That’s interesting about Jem’s ability to recognize people at a distance. Do many of his friends know he can do it?”
    “Heavens, yes, we all do. That’s why Jem’s so indispensible at parties. One’s always sidling up to him and whispering, ‘Who’s that hideous woman in the purple dress?’ or whatever. He saves us no end of embarrassment since the woman’s apt to be one’s own sister-in-law. Or ex-sister-in-law, which could be even stickier.”
    “I can see where it might be.”
    And right there was an excellent reason why Jem might have had to be kept away from the Tolbathys’ party at any cost. Somebody, not necessarily in this particular contingent but among those who’d be on the train in the course of the evening, didn’t want to risk being recognized by the one person who’d be able to see through his or her disguise.
    Max rather inclined toward a him. The women had altered the style of their clothing, though perhaps not very much in some instances, but there wasn’t a great deal they could do about their faces. The men, on the other hand, had a glorious excuse to mask their features behind unaccustomed hirsute adornments.
    False beards and wigs were traditionally effective disguises. This crowd was surely as tradition-oriented as they came. From what Marcia Whet said about their general acuity of vision, most of them could probably be fooled by a wad or two of Fuzzleys’ best so long as the person behind it didn’t get too close or talk too much. Or at least the prankster would assume they could.
    As to whether there was in fact such a plot in the works, Max would know soon enough. He did wish he weren’t so handicapped by being the lone stranger here. Some of the guests were married couples, of course, and he could have recognized the husbands through their wives if only he knew