Once again we are beholden to the current executors of the Knolly estate for letting us publish this, the second package of the great man's journals and memoirs.

Bertie appeared bored as the train started to gather speed, flapping his opera cloak this way and that, causing quite a breeze as I sat down with a map of the United Kingdom laid out before me on the table.

"Do you think you could stop doing that?" I asked as he flapped past me, once more causing the chart to oscillate in sympathy.

He paused, mid flap "Well there's nothing to do now, is there, until we get to Scotland? And, unlike you, I don't have a bedroom to retire to."

He finished this sentence with a final flap. The United Kingdom joined in with a ripple like motion until the palm of my hand put a stop to it. I retaliated further by placing an errant cup and saucer on the edge of the chart to pin it down.

"Look as soon as we are up to speed we'll go and 'arrest' Elspeth and Charlotte and bring them back here all right?"

Bertie flounced into one of the more comfortable chairs opposite and then suddenly sprang up again.

"Thought of something?"

"No," he said, sitting back down again.

"Why not see how our mechanical friend works when the train is moving?"

Bertie pulled a thoughtful face and then jumped up again. I looked up from the map.

"Off to the gymnasium then?"

"No, no..."

"Oh? Something else appeals?"

"Indeed, it does Knolly, an idea has presented itself which I shall run past you this very instant. Music is what we need, so how about I go and get the phonograph from out of the automobile? I'm sure a little music wouldn't go amiss, much better than listening to the wheels on the rails. What do you think?"

Bertie had a point; whilst I had grown used to the noise and consigned it to the background, it was a rather monotonous rhythmic tone, and, truth be told, a jolly tune or two would help to while away the hours, and, what is more, I was sure Elspeth would approve once she joined us.

"A capital idea Bertie! Only let's see if we can keep the volume down from the off, shall we, we don't want to give our friend the guard any reason to investigate beyond his sphere of influence, do we?"

"I think after the modification Hobbes and I made earlier we should have that under control. Talking of which, I wonder how the old chap is getting on?"

I must admit I had been thinking along those lines, and this was one of the reasons I was studying our route.

"Hopefully, Bertie, at some point we'll have to stop for coal and water and when that moment comes we can connect up to the local telegraphic infrastructure and try out this mobile telephony for ourselves."

"It will be rather late though, don't you think?"

"For us, or for Hobbes?"

"Quite so, quite so... Well, I'll just amble along to the flat car then and get our music box."

With Bertie's mind at last on something constructive, I relaxed somewhat. At least now he wasn't dwelling on Charlotte, or the lack of a bedroom, though no doubt both items would come to the fore very soon.

I returned once more to the map before me and with compass, ruler and pen proceeded to plot where I believed our stops would be. Oh yes, well, I could have asked the guard, but this was a mental exercise as much as anything else and my brain matter needed to be at its peak over the coming days. It looked from my calculations as though a stop at Crewe would be our best bet to try and make contact with Hobbes, but this would need Bertie and I to be awake and alert in the small hours, and there was no guarantee that Hobbes would be awake to pick up the telephone at the other end. On further reflection, I was pretty sure that neither of us would be too awake to carry out the work, either; I shook my head at the conundrum before me and stared at the map and then my watch, perhaps we might stop earlier?

Peering out from a covered window I could see that the express was now hurtling along at what I estimated to be around fifty miles an hour and I had a sudden thought about whether or not these carriages would be up to the strain of being pulled along so fast. Then a further concern floated along and I wondered how Bertie was going to manage carrying the phonograph from the flat car and negotiate the gap between the carriages at the speed we were now travelling. The bang of a door and a muffled cry of "Help" from beyond the bedrooms further enlightened me and I quickly made my way to find my colleague seemingly wedged with one leg missing between 'Annie' and the flat bed and the horn of the phonograph perched on his head.

"Good... Knolly... Is that you? ... Could you be so kind as to take the phonograph from me?"

I looked down to see the wheels of the carriages singing away at speed mere feet away from Bertie's dangling foot – how could he remain so calm? I took the 'horn' from his head, and then the box off of him, thus, with his arms now free, he was able to scramble back up next to me and safety.

"So, what happened then?"

"Er... My cape got caught up, nearly strangled me and then I lost my footing. Good job you heard me, eh?"

I dearly wanted to ask him why he'd stuck the phonograph horn on his head in the first place, but thought that it would keep for another day. Instead I just said "Well I am saying nothing old friend, save let's get you back inside and get some music on, shall we?"

Bertie had luckily already brought the wax cylinders across, along with sundry pieces of cabling and whatnot, and so, leaving him to it, I went to put the kettle on and to see if I could find the rum to steady some nerves. Finding things in the galley was simplistic thanks to Stanley's labelling. Moving around however was not an easy task, but then having been at sea, one adjusted quickly to each join in the rail in the same way as adapting to the rise and fall of the waves. I must add, though, that taking what must have been bends in the line was a trifle disconcerting, especially as it seemed to align itself with the very moment I was pouring hot boiling water. As I mopped up the mess I had made I once more heard the syncopating rhythms of Mr Joplin from beyond. Success!

I had to judge my step between both carriages very carefully, with a tea tray carefully balanced, for I did not wish to embarrass myself so soon after Bertie's escapade. There would be plenty of time for that later, of that I was certain. As I stepped through I noticed Bertie doing an impression of a diving duck, his head was nowhere to be seen but his rear was pointing skyward, he also seemed to have pulled up part of the of carriage floor.

"Bertie, what on earth are you doing?" I cried out as I approached.

His head emerged out of the hole with a wide grin on his face. "Power for the phonograph of course!"

"Eh? What, I thought we had to use that peddling contraption Meeds sat me on the other night!"

"Oh Knolly, that's emergency power source. Down here is a box that connects to the wheel axles, just a simple case of connecting up these bands to the wheels and pulley Hobbes designed and Meeds built, and we don't have to pedal or wind or anything until the train stops."

I looked beyond Bertie to where the phonograph sat and noticed the looping canvas bands that ran from where its own handle would normally fit, past Bertie and down through the hole in the floor.

"We don't have to have the floor up the whole journey do we? I'm sure that would be an accident just waiting to happen."

"Not at all, I've done what is needed; all we have to do is change the music when each cylinder ends.... So, tea I think?”

I nodded. "Here you are, complete with a tot of rum, and then we'll go and fetch the ladies. I should think that by now many of the other passengers will be retiring to their allocated sleeping cars."

I handed Bertie a cup. "Oh and Bertie, you have been taking your 'Gender Benders' haven't you?”

With our tea drunk and the music turned off, we doused the carriage lights and stepped across once more into the guard's van, locking the door behind us. Unfortunately, neither of us could stop humming the damnable tune that was now firmly ingrained in our minds. At least we were in different keys and so the resulting tune should have been bearable to any listener; the guard, poor chap though, was still surprised by our sudden appearance; although it is quite possible he was a music lover.

We bid him good evening, he nodded in a conspiratory way and went back to his paperwork and we carried on through. As we thought, the passengers we encountered were few and far between and it did not take us long to reach the carriage where Elspeth and Charlotte still sat. My wife looked up as we approached.

"Hello you two, come to take us away at last?"

"Yes we have, so if you are both quite ready we'll be off. Bertie, grab a couple of the bags, why don't you?"

Bertie just stood there, mouth agape, looking at Charlotte as though she was Venus personified. She looked up at him and smiled in a demure manner. To be honest, I was not sure if this was a good or bad thing.

"You didn't take your tablets, did you?" I muttered through clenched teeth.

"Oh, let me deal with this!" said Elspeth, moving forward and swinging her Gladstone bag in such a way as to connect with Bertie's nether regions...

The Great Knolly Archive

The Shepherd and
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