Lantern Sam and the Blue Streak Bandits by Michael D. Beil Read Free Book Online Page A

support in this
most
difficult time. My dear wife is expecting a child very soon, or she would be here as well. She is in her bed, praying for the safe return of poor Ellie.”
    Across the room, the Strasbourgs’ maid, a striking young woman in a starched blue uniform, looked warily at Sam, who was still in my arms. She backed away, never taking her eyes off him, and stopped only when she ran into a wall.
    “Oh, I’m sorry, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Strasbourg. “This is Julia, our maid. I’d forgotten—she’s afraid of cats. We have dogs at the house, but no cats.”
    “No need to worry about Sam,” said Clarence. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
    “Unlike Henry,”
said Sam, in my head.
“Apparently, he
eats
flies.”
    Clarence shook Reverend Perfiddle’s hand and then told them everything: the discovery of the marble samples, the handkerchief, the picture of Ellie, and finally, the ransom note.
    Once Mrs. Strasbourg started sobbing, there was no stopping her. “My baby, my poor baby. Who would do something like this? Where is she? Why? Why!”
    Julia glided across the room, her floor-length dress rustling quietly. She knelt close to her employer, speaking soothing words and wiping tears from the distraught woman’s face.
    Judge Ambrose stomped his foot, shaking the whole compartment. “Anarchists, that’s who. They’re everywhere. First they kidnap that poor little Lindbergh baby. Then along come Sacco and Vanzetti with their robbing, murdering ways. Where does it end?”
    “Who?” I whispered to Sam.
    “Shhh! I’ll tell you later. I don’t want to miss anything.”
    Clarence ignored the judge and handed the ransom note to Mrs. Strasbourg. “Do you know what this means? Henry tells me that the Blue Streak is an amusement park ride—a roller coaster that you are on your way to see. Why would the kidnapper—”
    Mrs. Strasbourg turned to the maid. “Julia, would you please show them …?”
    Julia hurriedly crossed the room again, then knelt before a leather-covered trunk and opened its lid. An elaborately carved jewelry box sat inside, and from this she removed a sky-blue leather pouch. She carried it back to Mrs. Strasbourg.
    Mrs. Strasbourg untied the drawstring and turned the bag over, spilling a necklace into her hand. She eyed it sadly for a few seconds and then set it on the table in front of everyone.
    “It was a gift from my father,” she said, “on my eighteenth birthday. It’s called the Blue Streak.”
    Dozens of brilliant gems made up the length of the necklace, starting with tiny stones at the clasp and ending with one enormous blue-as-the-sea sapphire set in the center.
    Reverend Perfiddle inhaled deeply from his cigarette and leaned forward, choking on his own smoke and almost falling out of his chair when he saw that sapphire, and Judge Ambrose’s eyes looked as if they might pop right out of his shiny bald head.
    “Sweet Caesar’s ghost,” he whispered.
    “The center stone is over seventy-five carats,” said Mrs. Strasbourg. “It’s called the Blue Streak because if you examine it very closely with a magnifying glass, you’ll see asingle flaw deep inside the stone. When my father first saw it, he said that it reminded him of a comet streaking across the sky.”
    “Probably would have been cheaper to buy a real comet,”
noted Sam, though only Clarence and I heard.
    Judge Ambrose cleared his throat loudly and addressed Clarence directly. “Is there a cinder dick aboard the train?”
    “No, not this trip,” answered Clarence.
    “What’s that?” I whispered to Sam.
    “A railroad detective,”
he answered.
    “Any other lawmen?” Ambrose asked. “Police? FBI, maybe?”
    “None that I know of.”
    “And how long till we get to Dunkirk?” He tugged on his watch chain until a shiny gold pocket watch dropped into his hand.
    “Five hours. A bit more.”
    Ambrose made a big show of winding his watch and then puffed himself up even bigger.
    Sam clenched my arms with his