“He thinks they are measuring,” Gus explained hurriedly. “And he’s right. Papa told me – it’s what engineers do before they build a new road or a bridge or something. They have to pace it out to see the lie of the land.”
“Why would the Snigsons want to build a bridge?” asked Edie.
“I don’t know,” said Gus. “But whatever they’re up to, they’re noting it all down.” Len was scribbling something in a big book.
“How odd.” Edie watched as he stuffed the notes into his big signalman’s satchel, which was already bulging with other papers. “And what’s that?” she whispered as Donny stooped to pick up what looked like a long leather cylinder from the ground.
“Das ist eine Landkarte,” said Karl.
“A map,” translated Gus.
“A treasure map?” asked Greta, her head bobbing up above the windowsill to see.
“Get down!” hissed Gus.
“Quick,” said Edie. “Hide! They’re coming this way.”
Chapter Twenty
Maps and Plans
The Snigsons were definitely heading towards the old railway carriage.
Edie and Gus stared at one another in blind panic.
“What do you think they want?” said Gus, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know.” Edie shook her head. She could feel her heart pounding. “Hurry.”
They only had a few moments to scramble into a hiding place.
She motioned to Karl to squeeze himself under a long bench below the window. He lay down with his fists clenched tightly by his side as Gus threw her the red-and-white tablecloth, and she stuffed it on top of the airman, trying to disguise him as best she could. Gus slid under the bench opposite as Edie grabbed Greta and crawled beneath a row of seats at the other end of the carriage.
Edie lay flat on her tummy, her nose almost touching Greta’s, who was doing the same. She could feel the little girl’s hot, frightened breath on her face. She put her finger to her lips and prayed Greta would stay quiet.
It was only now they were hiding that Edie realized she had made a terrible mistake. She had panicked. They shouldn’t have hidden themselves at all. They should have concealed Karl and then stayed visible themselves, as if they were innocently playing in the carriage. That way, the Snigsons might just have poked their heads in or passed on by.
But it was too late to change their plan now.
The door flung open and Len Snigson strode in.
Edie could see his thick brown boots an inch or so from her nose.
“So,” he said, pacing up and down. “Now we wait.”
“Aye,” agreed Donny. “We wait.”
Edie tilted her head to try and see what they were doing. Len dropped the bulging satchel on the table opposite her. He started to unpack the papers inside.
“We’ve gold dust here,” he said. “Get this into the right hands and we’ll be rich.”
“Aye,” said Donny again. He had wedged the long leather tube between his knees and was gently easing out the rolled up document inside. Karl was right – it was a map. Edie caught a glimpse of little patchwork-square fields and the red lines which marked the roads.
Donny laid the map flat on the table and the two brothers stared at it in silence for a moment. Then Len punched the air.
“You can see the whole chuffin’ railway marked out on here,” he cheered. “Gold dust, that’s what it is.”
He was so excited, he punched the air again. Donny jumped out of the way. As he leapt backwards, he knocked a thick brown envelope off the edge of the table. The contents spilled on to the floor with a thud.
“Pick ’em up,” growled Len, and Donny sank to his knees.
There were at least twenty or thirty photographs spread across the floor. He began crawling around, gathering up the pictures, just a few inches away from where Edie lay. Just one glance sideways and he would see her there, hiding under the bench. Edie had to bite her lip to stop herself from gasping out loud. She stared at Greta with wide eyes, willing her not to make a sound either.
If she’d stretched out her hand, Edie could have touched Donny’s shoulder. One photograph had fallen halfway under the seat where she was lying. Her heart was pounding as she waited for him to turn and pick it up.
“Look here,” said Len, jabbing the table as he pointed to something on the map. “You can see the railway bridge at the bottom of our field as clear as day.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? Reckon that’s just the sort of thing they’ll need,” said Donny, standing up.
Quick as a flash, Edie snatched the last photograph from the floor and clutched it to her chest before anyone could notice they had left it behind and bend down to pick it up. She couldn’t bear to risk being seen all over again.
“Did you get ’em all?” said Len, as Donny stuffed the rest of the pictures back into the big brown envelope.
“Aye,” said Donny. “Reckon so.” He glanced over his shoulder and nodded.
Edie breathed out slowly, her heart thumping.
“How long now?” said Len, pacing down to the other end of the carriage.
“Five minutes. Maybe ten,” said Donny.
They both sank down on the bench by the window. Edie held her breath again. Karl was lying right beneath where the brothers sat, covered only by the thin checked tablecloth. If they looked down and lifted the corner of the fabric, they would discover him at once.
Edie felt a tug on her arm. Greta was mouthing something, her little face screwed up with urgency.
“I need a wee!”
Edie shook her head. She looked away, trying not to make eye-contact. Perhaps if she didn’t look at her, Greta would stay quiet and hold on a little longer. But how much longer? Five or ten minutes, at least. That’s what Donny had just said. But who were they waiting for? And why here, hidden away in the old dining carriage where nobody ever came?
Edie glanced down at the photograph in her hand. It was of the railway – just
