A World of InTemperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 2) by Ichabod Temperance Read Free Book Online Page B

is speaking low enough for us to not overhear, but we all overhear just fine.
    He looks first to:
    Me. “Stupid Hick.”
    Wolfgang Metzger. “Kraut Lout.”
    Mademoiselle Gauzot. “Foreign Frog.”
    Miss Altamont. “Battle-Axe.”
    Madame Pâte à Glacer. “Darkie Busybody.”
    James Murray. “Australian Nobody.”
    Spike Rogers. “Beneath Contempt.”
    Miss Plumtartt. “Pampered Pet.”
    Miss GoldenBear. “Heathen Tart.”
    Bolt. “Ugly mutt.”
    We are all stunned at this man’s rude words and oblivious attitude.
    His callous contempt seems to warm the coddles of his grinchly heart.
    “Well! What a charming way to end our evening together,” beams Mademoiselle Gauzot. “After such a pleasant visit I am sure we are all tired and wish to get a good night’s sleep.” The elegant and gracious woman bids one and all a good night. She pauses by the disagreeable Colonel.
    “Sleep well, Mon Colonel. Don’t let zee bedbugs bite!”
    Mademoiselle DeeDee Gauzot’s words break the ugly mood that had descended upon the Railroad Club Car. We disperse to our personal compartments.
    Our train continues to rattle northward, through the dark, cold, Klondike night.
    I get a few good hours of sleep. I can’t really say I get up in the morning, as it is difficult to gauge as to when morning is, in this sunless land, but I am aware of agitated sounds in the narrow corridor. Something is afoot.
    “What’s up, Spike?”
    “I’m not sure, Icky. Colonel Ketchouppe is not replying to his wake-up call. I have summoned the conductor.”
    “Colonel?”
    ~knock, knock, knock.~
    “Colonel Ketchouppe?”
    ~Knock, Knock, Knock.~
    “Colonel Ketchouppe!”
    ~Knock, Knock, Knock!~
    “I am opening the door, the Colonel could be in distress. Holy Expired Passengers, the Colonel is dead!”
    The horribly pale pallor, and blank, staring expression, immediately give away the state of the deceased militarist.
    Sprawled across the floor of his railroad compartment, in his anchor and cannon pajamas, is Colonel Ketchouppe, with a candlestick, wrench, and a lead pipe. His room is unkempt, as if it has been ransacked.
    Everyone comes by for a peek at Colonel Ketchouppe. We all concur that he appears to be very dead, and that it agrees with him.
    “Looks as if our Koala-witted friend got up on the wrong side of the bingabingaboll.”
    “Yessir.”
    Even from the doorway, it is easy to spot two puckered puncture marks on the dead man’s neck. His sunken features and ghastly pallor bear evidence that he is a quart or so low on the red stuff.
    It is determined that a detective is aboard the Winniedepuh Express. He is a fastidious little Belgian, and he is in a bad humor, for being asked to look into this affair.
    “It seems that very many of you had reason to kill this man.” accuses the ridiculously mustachioed investigator. “After extensive questioning and a thorough look into this sordid affair, I conclude that this Jeaque-asse needed to be killed and that whomever the murderer or murderess is, deserves a reward, not confinement in our penitentiaries. Had the murderer not beaten me to it, I may have committed zee murdaire myself.”
    “Bon.”
    “Mademoiselles, Monsieurs, Adieu.”
    Our detective exits.
    No one can quite bring himself or herself to feel any sorrow for Colonel Ketchouppe, but the strange circumstances of his death are worth consideration.
    Our train continues to rattle northward.
    We arrive at a railroad station in Winniedepuh.
    We all disembark and secure rooms at a nice local hotel.
    We all say goodnight, and retire to our individual rooms.
    Gee, whiz, I am having trouble getting accustomed to constant darkness. I am having a tough time falling asleep.
    Hmmm. I think I heard a noise outside in the hallway. It was like the tippy-toe step of a person trying to move in complete silence.
    Did that person stop in front of Miss Plumtartt’s door? Could someone be trying to sneak in there?
    “I say! Who goes there! Oh!