"Train wrecks are common. Last year, the Southern Pacific paid out two million dollars for injuries to persons. Before 1907 is over, there'll be ten thousand collisions, eight thousand derailments, and over five thousand accidental deaths. As a frequent passenger, I take it personally when railroad cars are rammed inside each other like a telescope."

Osgood Hennessy flushed pink with incipient fury. "I'll tell you what I tell every reformer who thinks the railroad is the root of all evil. The Southern Pacific Railroad employs one hundred thousand men. We work like nailers transporting one hundred million passengers and three hundred million tons of freight every year!"

"I happen to love trains," Bell said, mildly. "But railwaymen don't exaggerate when they say that the tiny steel flange that holds the wheel on the track is 'One inch between here and eternity."'

Hennessy pounded the table. "These murdering radicals are blinded by hate! Can't they see that railway speed is God's gift to every man and woman alive? America is huge! Bigger than squabbling Europe. Wider than divided China. Railroads unite us. How would people get around without our trains? Stagecoaches? Who would carry their crops to market? Oxen? Mules? A single one of my locomotives hauls more freight than all the Conestoga wagons that ever crossed the Great Plains--Mr. Bell, do you know what a Thomas Flyer is?"

"Of course. A Thomas Flyer is a four-cylinder, sixty-horsepower Model 35 Thomas automobile built in Buffalo. It is my hope that the Thomas Company will win the New York to Paris Race next year."

"Why do you think they named an automobile after a railroad train?" Hennessy bellowed. "Speed! A flyer is a crack railroad train famous for speed! And--"

"Speed is wonderful," Bell interrupted. "Here's why ..."

That Hennessy used this section of his private car as his office was evinced by the chart pulls suspended from the polished-wood ceiling. The tall, flaxen-haired detective chose from their brass labels and unrolled a railroad map that represented the lines of California, Oregon, Nevada, Idaho, and Washington. He pointed to the mountainous border between northern California and Nevada.

"Sixty years ago, a group of pioneer families calling themselves the Donner Party attempted to cross these mountains by wagon train. They were heading for San Francisco, but early snow blocked the pass they had chosen through the Sierra Nevada. The Donner Party was trapped all winter. They ran out of food. Those who did not starve to death survived by eating the bodies of those who died."

"What the devil do cannibalistic pioneers have to do with my railroad?"

Isaac Bell grinned. "Today, thanks to your railroad, if you get hungry in the Donner Pass it's only a four-hour train ride to San Francisco's excellent restaurants."

Osgood Hennessy's stern face did not allow for much difference between scowls and smiles, but he did concede to Joseph Van Dorn, "You win, Joe. Go ahead, Bell. Speak your piece."

Bell indicated the map. "In the past three weeks, you've had suspicious derailments here at Redding, here at Roseville and at Dunsmuir, and the tunnel collapse, which prompted you to call on Mr. Van Dorn."