“No dial.  This tower has telephone.  Phone connects straight to the Railmaster’s office, and no place else.  Just pick it up and turn the crank,” Gordon explained.

Winston did as he was told and waited.

“Murphy here!” the voice at the far end shouted.  “Where have you been, Blake?  What is going on there?”

“This is Associate Sheriff Winston Cooper,” Winston answered.  “At tower five. The two men here are dead.  Please connect me to Sheriff Cooper.  That’s Sheriff Radnor Cooper.”

“What do you mean, dead?  They can’t be dead.” Murphy screamed.

“Dead as doornails.  Died after the 1312 passed, a bit after 1 in the morning.  Look to have died at the same time.  Look, I need out here the County Coroner, two coffins, and whomever Grandpa has who can do detective things.  That’s not me.  I’m no Nick Carter.”

“Let me speak to Bill Gordon!  Now!”

Winston concluded that the Railmaster had only one tone of voice, the imperative screech.  He handed Gordon the telephone.

“What’s this nonsense about Blake and Chris being dead?” Murphy shouted.  “How did they die?”

“Darned if I know,” Bill Gordon responded.  “That’s why we need a coroner.  And two caskets.”

“And tell Grandpa,” Winston added, “so far as I can find, this place is completely locked up.  Door.  Window screens.  Everything is locked up tight.  If there was a killer here, I don’t see how he got out.”

“Bill, Blake and Chris aren’t going anywhere,” Murphy announced.  “There’s an undertaker in Wilhoit.  Sheriff can call on him.  Meanwhile you need to get moving, find the missing trains.  The Governor’s called three times since you left.”