Free A Charm of Powerful Trouble (A Harry Reese Mystery Book 4) by Robert Bruce Stewart Page B

partner corrected.
    “She was good-looking when she left me.”
    “Bah. Yours have all her teeth?” he asked me.
    “Seems to.”
    “Then she ain’t Celia.”
    “No, I s’pose not,” her former mate conceded.
    “Any sign of a tow arriving from New York?” I asked. “I’m looking for a canal boat being brought up by the Captain Shandy .”
    “A couple of tows’ve gone by, didn’t see the names.”
    “Gone by? I thought the canal boats would be left off here.”
    “Most go up to West Troy, enter the canal there.”
    “How far is that?”
    “Oh, five or six miles.”
    My whole life I’d been hearing about Clinton’s Ditch going from Albany to Buffalo. Never a word about West Troy.
    I left a message for Nell with the fishermen, and likewise agreed to deliver one to Celia should I come across her. Then I went back to the hotel and found Nell in the lobby leaving me a note.
    “Has the tow arrived?” she asked.
    “Well, I can’t say for sure. It seems there’s another entrance to the canal upriver. We can head up there after lunch. But I was absent a good part of the morning looking for you.”
    “Then we’re in luck, Harry.”
    “Are we?”
    “While I was leading the Chinamen about, I saw the White Rat at the train depot. He was in line at the ticket counter. I got up close and overheard him.” She handed me a slip of paper where she’d written, “Weedsport, four o’clock train.”
    “Weedsport?”
    “Yes, and as soon as I heard it, I remembered Emmie told me that Mrs. Stanton’s boat often went to some place that begins with a ‘W.’ It couldn’t be a coincidence. We know he’s after Emmie.”
    “Mrs. Stanton smuggles Chinamen from Weedsport?”
    “They must cross from Canada to there.”
    Nell’s familiarity with matters geographic rivaled Emmie’s.
    “Weedsport is in the middle of the state.”
    “Then why does it call itself a port?”
    “Well, it is on the canal. Maybe they thought it sounded better than Weedsville.”
    “The point is, the White Rat is going there to confront Emmie. So we need to go there as well.”
    “You don’t think Emmie may just be up in West Troy?”
    “No. It’s obvious he knows something we don’t. Perhaps she’s gotten off the boat and taken a train to Weedsport. You can’t very well stand idly by and let another man have his way with your wife.”
    I was disinclined to be swept up by the hysteria, but I knew if I equivocated Nell would accuse me of being inadequately concerned. Besides, I wasn’t so sure Emmie had ever gotten on that canal boat. I agreed to her proposal, but took the time to send a wire back to the apartment just in case Emmie had never left Brooklyn.
    At the depot, I bought tickets for the four o’clock train and we found a place where we could keep an eye out. A little while later I saw the two Chinamen go up to a ticket window. When they left, I snuck up to the same window.
    “Say, did those two Chinamen buy tickets?”
    “Why not? Chinamen can ride the train.”
    “Yes, but I was wondering which train.”
    “Any train they want. You think we run separate trains for them?”
    “No, no. I’m just curious to know where those two fellows are going.”
    “Weedsport.”
    “Weedsport? Are you sure?”
    “Sure I’m sure.”
    I went back and told Nell.
    “Well, now we have confirmation,” she said.
    “Of what exactly?”
    “That Weedsport is the objective, of course. The highbinders must have a secret hideout there.”
    “Have you ever been to Weedsport?”
    “No. Have you?”
    “Yes, and I can say with some certainty that it would not be the ideal location for a group of Chinamen to site their hideout. Strangers tend to stand out in a town like that.”
    “Maybe it’s in an old abandoned farm house. Use your imagination, Harry.”
    The very same admonition Emmie utters just before launching us on some misadventure.
    We boarded the train and saw the Chinamen do likewise. I promptly fell asleep. When I woke, Nell