With a screech and a shudder, an enormous metal contraption lumbered to a stop beside us. A horizontal cylinder on huge spoked wheels belched smoke from a chimney on top, and steam billowed from vents on the sides. Two men rode on the machine, one steering while the other monitored a series of gauges. An omnibus like the horse-drawn one was hitched to this monstrosity.

Nat rushed forward and called out to the man studying the gauges. “Hey, Alec! I’ve got a friend here who needs a lift to magpie land. You can take her, can’t you? You’re goin’ that way anyhow.”

I couldn’t see Alec’s reaction because a large pair of brass goggles obscured most of his face and his attention was focused on his device. “We might not be stopping when we’re there,” he said as he worked.

A head in a bowler hat emerged from the doorway of the bus. “Did you say this charming young lady needs a ride?” The speaker swept the hat off his head, revealing a shock of bright red hair and a young face spattered with freckles.

“I need to get to Seventy-Seventh Street,” I said shakily, wondering if perhaps I’d fallen asleep on the train and had dreamed everything from the robbery until now. This was all so very strange.

Nat added, “Verity’s tryin’ to be a governess, and she’s gonna be late for her interview.”

The red-haired young man gave me a look of theatrically exaggerated pity and held his hat against his heart. “Oh, you poor dear. You’re too pretty to be a governess. Ah, but I suppose you’re the independent type and won’t settle for letting a man take care of you.”

I couldn’t help but smile, and I felt my cheeks warm in a furious blush. I’d never in my life been called pretty. I was admired for my cleverness rather than my appearance. I suspected he was what romantic novels called a flirt, but I didn’t think he meant any harm, even if he didn’t mean what he said. “You flatter me,” I said. “I have no choice but to make my own way in the world.”

With a saucy wink he replied, “Well, if you change your mind about finding a man to take care of you, let me know, and I’ll submit my application. The name’s Colin Flynn, and if ever you want me just ask around, and I’ll be there.”

While we were talking, a few people who had been milling around on the sidewalk approached the bus. Colin replaced his hat on his head and stepped down. “One at a time, people!” he called out, his tone switching from flirt to officious conductor. “All aboard for a voyage into the future.”