Dear Emily,

I regret to inform you that my arrival has come under delay. Shortly after we entered the tunnel portion of our journey, the locomotive simply gave up the ghost so to speak. I’m not sure what caused the issue; I only know that I was on the scenic car enjoying my pipe tobacco when the lights went out and the locomotive slowed down to a stop. As the people on the car with me hurried inside, I remained patiently behind as to avoid the hustle and bustle of the commotion as well as to finish my smoke. Running inside with the rest of the frightened souls would’ve done me no good and shall have only ruined a good smoke.

When my pipe had burned it’s last, I decided then that I should perhaps make my way back to my seat to make sure my luggage was safe from hooligans who would use such an opportunity for their own misdeeds. As I made my way through the cars, groping the tops of seats so as not to trip on anything, I could hear the quiet breaths and fidgits of frightened passengers. Though it seemed strangely calm, I chalked it up to some instructions that I had perhaps missed by remaining to finish my tobacco. I later learned that no such instructions were given as all the members of the crew seem to have vanished as though raptured away by some unseen force.

Making my way through the dining car, I looked forward to sitting down comfortably and reading the news paper I had purchased before entering the train. I figured I could read peacefully by flashlight while I waited for everything to start again. It was in the dining car that I heard the whimpering of a small child. I took out my torch and found the source of the sound hiding underneath a table. It was a six year old boy named Nathaniel Manx. He was writing a letter to his mother when the power went down. It took quite coaxing to get him to come out. Apparently, his mother had instilled an unnecessary amount of “stranger danger” fear within him. I reason that I must have sat with him in the dining car for a day before he came out because I at one point fell asleep for what must have been six to eight full hours. In fact, he didn’t even accept food from me until after I had awakened because he was hungry enough at that point that his hunger overcame him. Unfortunately, by that point all that I was able to offer were some stale bagels and doughnuts from behind the counter.

Anyhow, he eventually came with me to my seat and I’ve become something of a comfort to him in his time of distress. I’ve learned that we was to visit his aunt and uncle on Sparrow Avenue. I believe that is just a street or two down from your house if I am correct. Their names are Carol and Stephen Hupper. If you could be so kind and let them know of their Nephew’s situation, I would be most grateful. I would take him myself with the postmaster, but I honestly don’t know what we’ll encounter in this tunnel and I don’t want to put the lad in any danger. He’s had enough of a time as it is.

My regards and I hope to see you soon,
-Maxwell Hart

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