Transcript
A (0:00)
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B (0:31)
Of the story Old Jess was just steaming around the bend. I call him Old Jess. I haven't the slightest idea what his real name was, nor does anybody remember, but you get the picture. The puffs of smoke billowing from the old black locomotive stack. Twin ribbons of steel stretched far ahead into the badlands. Coaches full of passengers trailing behind. And Old Jess. We got to call him something. Old Jess had a firm hand on the throttle and a keen eye peeled. You see, the company of warned him about this run. Other engineers who'd made it recently had encountered a determined train robber, a lone train robber and a dangerous hombre. When I say train robber, I mean precisely that he would board and steal the entire train. The company was determined to end this series of hijackings. So they told old Jess, you just let that fellow take the controls and you'll never work for this line again. But it's high noon and a handsome dark haired man climbed into the locomotive cab and onto the engineer's foot plate. And it was the train robber. He had smooth features, clear eyes and impressed his mustache. But there was a resolve in his expression that much intimidated Old Jess. And oh yes, the man had a gun. The engineer said, you can't take her over. I'll lose my job if you do. You can't take her over. The man said, I'll speak to your employer. And in so saying, he jammed the pistol into the engineer's belly. And old Jeff made a wise choice. He let go of the throttle and the man took the controls. Now, back in the passenger cars, folks are getting nervous. They know what's happened because the scenery is going by outside twice as fast as it should. The train robber, notorious in these parts, has stolen their train again. Back on the foot plate, Old Jess is pleading with the hijacker. Too much steam, he is saying. The furnace can't take it, the rails won't take it. For everybody's sake, please ease up on the coal. Well, the man looked out at the trees whizzing by and he gave a little sigh and he pulled back a little bit on the throttle, you could feel a wave of relief sweep back through the train. Can imagine old Jeff lost his job over. And after all, it was he who talked the train robber away from the controls and off the foot plate and back to his own private passenger car. For once upon a time there was a railroad buff, a railroad enthusiast, who was so passionate about his hobby that he figured a way to get his hands on the world's biggest toy train, the Orient Express. I mean the Orient Express. And it was easy, considering the Orient Express had to travel through his own private country. For you see, the fanatical railway buff was handsome Zarboris III of Bulgaria, who half a century ago, and much to the displeasure of the railroad company, would board that world famous train, would wait for it to cross the border into Bulgaria, and then he would change into finely tailored engineers overalls and either by diplomacy or by force, he would take charge of the controls. Now one thing more. He had a brother, the crown prince Cyril and his brother also liked to play with trains. In fact, the only two things in all of their lives together in administering the country of Bulgaria, the only two things on which they could never agree was which one was going to get to drive the train. And now you know the rest of the story.