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"How does the thing operate?" asked Giordino.
"The same principle as a chair lift on a ski slope," Magee explained. "The headlamp and a set of four speakers hang suspended from a continuous cable strung along the crossbars of the telegraph poles.
When the light and sound package reaches the edge of the old Deauville bridge, a remote switch shuts off the batteries and then it makes a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn and returns to the shed."
"Why was it that some nights we only heard the sound but saw no lights?" asked Chase.
"The locomotive headlamp is rather large," answered Magee. "It's too easily detectable. So on moonlit nights I remove it and run only the sound system."
Giordino smiled broadly. "I don't mind admitting, Chase and I were ready to take up religion the first time it paid us a visit."
"I hope I didn't cause you any unnecessary inconvenience."
"Not at all. It was a great source of conversation."
"Annie and I stand on the riverbank nearly every day and watch your salvage operation. Looks to me like you've experienced problems. Have any pieces of the Manhattan Limited been pulled up yet?"
"Not even a rivet," Pitt answered. "We're closing the project down."
"That's a shame," Magee said sincerely. "I was rooting for your success. I guess the train wasn't meant to be found."
"Not in the river at any rate."
"More coffee, anyone?" Annie came around with-the pot.
"I'll take some," said Pitt. "Thank you."
"You were saying." Magee probed.
"Do you own one of those little motorcars that railroad gangs ride on when they repair track?" Pitt asked, changing the subject.
"I have an eighty-year-old handcar that moves on muscle power."
"May I borrow it along with your phantom train gear?"
"When do you want to use it?"
"Now."
"On a stormy night like this?"
"Especially on a stormy night like this."
Giordino took up his station on the platform bordering the tracks. In one hand he held a large flashlight.
The wind had died down to ten miles an hour, and by keeping to the corner of the depot he was sheltered from the sweeping rain.
Chase was not so lucky. He stood huddled atop the handcar a quarter of a mile up the track. For perhaps the tenth time he dried off the battery terminals and checked the wires leading to the locomotive headlamp and sound speakers that were jury rigged on the front of the handcar.
Pitt stepped to the doorway and made a signal with his hand. Giordino acknowledged it and then jumped down onto the track bed and blinked his flashlight into the darkness.
"About damned time," Chase mumbled to himself as he pushed the battery switch and began pumping the hand levers.
The headlamp's beam glinted on the wet rails and the whistle shriek was swept ahead by a following gust of wind. Pitt hesitated, timing in his mind the advance of the handcar. Satisfied that Chase was approaching at a good clip, he reentered the office and absorbed the warmth from the stove. "We're rolling," he said briefly.
"What do you hope to learn by recreating the robbery?" asked Magee.
"I'll know better in a few minutes," Pitt replied evasively.
