While a trip to view Niagara Falls was easy for a young army major and his bride, it was quite another to arrange such a trip for the president of the United States and his invalid wife. It required dozens of police officers to clear the woods and secure a section of the park for the private visit. The McKinleys took only Nathaniel and Sullivan with them as they went off to enjoy an afternoon in the woodland along the falls.

Caroline’s only responsibility today was to ensure the three AP journalists did not leave the train. The McKinleys had been adamant about their privacy and had asked Caroline to remain with the journalists in the parlor car to ensure none of them wandered off in hope of scoring an exclusive story. She had to crack open the windows, because the journalists all smoked like fiends as they played cards at a nearby table. At least she no longer felt compelled to join them, for she had at last conquered her cigarette cravings. Perhaps she was finally growing up after all.

She took the gift of a few hours to ponder Luke’s latest letter. Once again he’d included Hebrew passages at the end, but in the English portion he wrote more about Key West.

The Flying Dutchman is using a link in the western key. Find the link and cut it. Trouble is still brewing there.

In his earlier letter Luke had implied trouble came from Key West. Now he told her to cut the link in Key West. What link? And how was she supposed to cut it?

It was almost time for dinner before the McKinleys returned, both in good cheer. Oddly, Nathaniel and Sullivan looked furious when they boarded the train. Caroline didn’t have time to ask why as she followed Ida into her private car to help her dress for dinner.

The frost between Nathaniel and Sullivan stretched throughout dinner. As usual, they dined with Rembrandt, but Nathaniel remained stonily silent, even during the dessert course of deep-dish apple pie, which was his favorite. The moment Rembrandt left for the smoking car, Caroline occupied his vacated seat beside Nathaniel.

“How was the visit to the Falls?” she asked.

Nathaniel’s mouth thinned, and it looked like he didn’t want to talk, but Sullivan was bursting at the seams.

“The president ordered us to hang back the moment we were in the woods,” Sullivan said. “It was against every basic tenet of security, but what were we supposed to do? It was a direct order from the president.”

“Sometimes you don’t follow orders,” Nathaniel said tightly.

“I hate to inform you, but Mr. McKinley outranks us both,” Sullivan said, annoyance darkening his normally cheerful blue eyes. “If the president orders me to go stand on my head and sing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb,’ I will do so.”