How do you track down someone who doesn't stay in one city, never mind have a mailing address? Balto paced down the length of the platform, weaving in and out of the crowd as passengers flowed around him. Kodiak had been excused from his next two days on the job by Chief, which was odd enough that Balto had asked if his son was ill. Shaken up was the answer, and understandably so. He'd been climbing the ladder to check the roofs on a freight when the rusted handbar had snapped. He'd nearly slipped off and under the wheels. Would have, he insisted, if a hand hadn't snatched him back onto the little platform between the cars. Looking up, he'd seen a white and brown terrier lying on his belly on the roof of the car. Before Kodi could say anything, the terrier touched the brim of his cap and disappeared out of sight. Kodi managed to finish that run, but on arrival in Marceline Chief had seen something on his face and pulled him aside. How Jenna heard the story before he did, Balto couldn't fathom, but the thought of nearly losing their son in such a gruesome manner struck deep. She'd prodded Chief for any word of the terrier, and by the following morning the best he could come up with was his name: Dodger.
Balto had tried to think of some way to reach the terrier to thank him, but it was Jenna who'd taken the task, saying she had an idea of who could pass on a message. He'd included a special train ticket good for a lifetime with an invitation for dinner this evening. Now all there was left to do was wait and see if Jenna's contact had managed to wrangle this Dodger somehow. He paused by the engine and took in a deep breath. The smell of coal smoke hung in the air, and memories of riding the footplate almost always helped him think.
"Excuse me, sir," came a feminine voice with just a touch of a drawl, "is this the excursion train to Atlanta?"
Turning, he found himself nearly face to face with a white and brown terrier...in a bright blue dress. "Indeed it is, ma'am."
The lady's gray-topped muzzle quirked up in a grin. "Oh splendid!" she replied with a little hop. "And you must be Mister Seppala, the General Manager."
Balto gave a small smile and a nod. "That's right."
"Daisy Atkins," the terrier said with a broad smile, sticking out a gloved hand, though he could still see a bit of gray paw fur. "I won the contest last week, you see. I've always been terribly fascinated with the railroad."
"Ah, good, well I'm sure you'll enjoy the trip." He shook her hand briefly, then gestured at the cars just behind the engine. "Our first class coaches are top of the line, and there's a saloon car just behind your coach if you care for a drink."
"Please, call me Daisy. Might I see you in the saloon car later, Mister Seppala? Or, may I call you Balto?"
Beneath the brown fur that gave face an almost masked appearance, something in her expression made him pause. "Mister Seppala is fine, thank you. And I'm terribly sorry, but no. I have a lot of paperwork that needs doing, so I'll be riding in one of the railroad's private cars at the back."
"I don't suppose I could prevail upon you for a little tour?" she said, stepping closer. "It's such a treat to have some face-to-face conversation with you. Perhaps we could continue our chat there? Or something a bit more hands on?"
She raised her brow and Balto felt her hip nudge against his. His ears laid back and he brought up his left hand to tug at his collar. The gesture displayed the gold band Jenna had given him. Still, she batted her eyes at him and he felt his mouth go dry.
"Ah, no Miss Atkins, I'm afraid there's not near enough time for a tour." He took a step to the side. "We'll be leaving shortly."
Daisy turned her gaze to the station clock. "Not for another twenty-three minutes. Surely that's time enough?"
Balto kept his voice even, but his brow furrowed. "And as I said, I have a great deal of work to do." He touched the brim of his hat. "If you'll excuse me."
Almost before he'd turned to walk away, Daisy scampered around him to block his path. "Won't you at least walk me to my coach? I'd hate to part on bad terms and lose the chance of talking with you again."
"Then you'll be happy to know we aren't parting on bad terms, Miss Atkins, but I must be on my way. I'll send a conductor to help you find your coach."
When he moved to step around her, she held out her hand. "Wait-"
"Balto," came another female voice through the crowd. Both he and Daisy turned to see a red and white husky in a gray suit and skirt striding up to them. "Oh dear, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
Before Balto could reply, Daisy spoke up. "As a matter of fact you are." She very deliberately looked Jenna up and down. "Hmm. The outfit's all right, but honestly I thought a man of your position would have higher standards for his secretary."
Jenna's ears snapped back and for a moment she looked furious, then her gaze shifted away from Daisy and she gasped. She suddenly looked almost afraid. Brow raised, Daisy turned to look and felt her ears lay flat against her skull. The wolf-dog suddenly seemed much more like the first of his halves; ears forward, eyes narrowed, jaw set.
"Even if she were my secretary," he began in a low voice that seemed to chill the air around them, "I hope that you would be embarrassed for what you've said." The sides of his jaw worked, and he snorted a breath out through his nose. "But now I insist that you apologize this very instant for insulting my wife."
"Balto, I'm sorry, I didn't intend-"
"Mister Seppala, to you," he hissed, lips beginning to curl back and reveal gritted teeth. "And I do not care what you intended. You will apologize to her. Now."
Jenna spoke up, her tone sweet. "Balto, your dinner guest is waiting." Seeing his suddenly confused expression, she smiled. "Our friend Dodger, dear."
"Of course," he replied, managing a smile of his own. "What would I do without you, Jenna?"
"Goodness knows." Balto slipped past her, but not before giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be just a moment, dear. Please ask him to wait if he can."
Balto disappeared into the crowd, and Jenna turned to face the terrier, whose stubby tail wavered slowly.
"Thank you," Daisy murmured. "I hope you're not angry. I saw the suit, very smart-looking by the way, and I just thought-"
Jenna made a dismissive motion with her hand and stepped closer. "That comment doesn't bother me at all." She frowned as she spoke with a quiet fierceness. "But I will not stand and watch your frankly galling attempt to seduce my husband - in public no less - especially when he's far too polite to tell you to leave him be. Me? I'm telling you: Back. Off."
The terrier seemed to wither, and couldn't even meet Jenna's gaze.
Jenna's tone lightened. "Now, I'll presume you didn't see his wedding band, and let bygones be bygones. You have a lovely day ahead of you, and I'm sure you'll enjoy the trip." Taking a step closer so they were practically nose to nose, she continued in a darker hiss. "But if you inflict yourself on him again, I will make certain you never ride the Western and Atlantic again, just for a start. Do you understand me?"
The terrier nodded hurriedly, forcing a smile.
"Good," Jenna replied with the barest of a smile in return. She quickly caught a passing conductor's attention. "Freckles, could you kindly show Miss Atkins to her coach? She's our contest winner, and I want to be sure she enjoys the ride."
The dalmatian nodded and smiled broadly. "Certainly, Miss Seppala. Right this way, Miss Atkins. Your ticket please? Oh, first class indeed, lucky you!"
Jenna waited until they'd vanished into the crowd, sucked in a deep breath and sighed. Setting her posture, she slipped back into the crowd and made for the Endurance at the back of the train.
As she went, the engineer peered after her, not daring to say a word. Long brown ears stayed perked even after Jenna disappeared from sight. Turning back toward the front window, she caught her fireman's expression and smirked.
"Close thing there, Pidge," the fireman said, pulling the green-tinted goggles from his eyes and wiping his gray-furred brow. "For a moment there I thought we'd have to call the police."
"Or a doctor," Lady agreed. "I don't think I've ever seen Balto so cross."
"Can you blame him?"
"Not a bit. And I don't know what Miss Jenna said to her, but she looked more afraid then when Balto put her in her place." She glanced back at the station clock. "Whoever this Dodger fellow is, I hope he's along for the ride, we're due to leave in ten minutes, and Chief'll have a fit if I'm late by even a second with the GM onboard."
Balto stepped through the rear door of the Endurance to find a brown and white terrier poking at something above the fireplace. The dog turned toward the door as Balto swept his hat off his head.
"Dodger?" The questioning tone was more to do with the coat the terrier was wearing. Something familiar about it.
"That's me," the terrier replied, swiping a hand over his head fur. "I'm guessing you're Balto. Nice digs by the way."
Momentarily caught off-guard by the informal address, Balto cracked a smile. "Sure am, and thank you." Tossing his hat on one of the side tables, he motioned to the chairs that sat on either side of the saloon's sofa. "I'm glad you could join us. Can I have them bring you anything from the cafe before we depart?"
Dodger waved his hand and smirked. "Woah, ah, no thanks. I wasn't intending to come along for the ride, this is just me showin' my face. Seemed the polite thing to do."
Almost reflexively, Balto pulled his pocket watch and checked the time. "Ah, I see. My apologies, that was rude of me to presume."
"Forget about it, I'm not some posh that you need to worry about upsetting." The terrier gestured around them, almost laughing. "I mean, who wouldn't be tickled to bits to get an invite from the big GM himself to tag along for dinner and a ride?"
Balto replaced his watch and clasped his hands behind his back. When he spoke his tone was serious. "I thought it was the very least I could do to say thank you for saving my son."
The terrier's cocky expression cracked and he looked away, scratching absently behind one of his ears. "Ah, don't mention it, anybody would've done the same thing."
"I'm not so sure," the wolf-dog replied evenly. "And certainly not too many would have even been in a position to help."
"No, I guess not."
"Since you got my letter, I hope you got the ticket I included."
"Oh yeah, about that," Dodger replied, taking a folded piece of paper from his inner jacket pocket. "I mostly showed up to give it back."
Balto blinked with the start of a frown, but kept his voice light. "Isn't it rude to return a gift?"
"For a gentleman, sure, but seeing as I ain't one of those..." Dodger trailed off and held it out.
Keeping his hands behind his back, Balto sighed. "Did you at least read it?"
"Didn't have to," the mutt's tone was clipped, though he still smiled. "I know a ticket to ride when I see it, and while I appreciate the gesture it's not my style."
"I think you should read it. I had it specially made." When Dodger didn't flinch, Balto cleared his throat. "It says, This ticket grants the bearer, Dodger, free passage on the Western and Atlantic Railroad. Any train, any time, any destination. Not to be revoked. Signed, Balto Seppala, General Manager."
With a quirk in his muzzle, Dodger flipped the paper open and his eyes darted across the page. "I notice you left a place for me to put my last name."
"You're a hard man to find," Balto replied with a shrug.
"Not hard enough," the terrier grumbled. "But I told you, taking a seat's not my style."
"I don't believe I wrote the word seat on there, did I?" Balto said with a grin. "It says passage. Any train, any time, any destination."
Dodger glanced again at the paper as realization dawned. "You're saying…"
"That in spite of where you are, so long as you don't cause trouble, you'd be a ticketed passenger, along for the ride."
The terrier gave a low whistle and tapped the paper against his other hand, looking around the saloon. A few long moments passed, then he unfolded the paper again and looked at Balto. "That's a very nice thing, but ah…"
"But?" Balto cut in, with the tone of a reproachful father.
Dodger didn't flinch. "But like I said, not my style." And holding the ticket up, he tore it in two.
At that moment, the rear door opened and Jenna strode in. Her ears perked, and her gaze fastened on Dodger, the ticket, then Balto. "Tell me that wasn't…"
"I'm afraid it was, my dear," he sighed, turning back to Dodger, who for the first time looked suddenly uncertain.
Dropping the scraps of paper, the terrier snatched his cap off his head. "I appreciate it, really I do, I just think it'd be wasted on me."
Jenna opened her mouth, then huffed a sigh. "Well, at least you'll join us for the excursion, then?"
"Actually…" When Jenna narrowed her eyes at him, Dodger seemed to shrink a few inches. "I wasn't planning on it, miss."
She put her hands on her hips. "So, no ticket, no dinner. How are we supposed to say thank you?"
Dodger looked to Balto, but the wolf-dog merely nodded back to Jenna. "I, uh, this really isn't needed Miss Seppala. I was just doing what any dog would do."
At that, Jenna actually smiled, glancing at Balto. "Hmm, where have I heard that before?"
Balto returned the smile, then straightened and brushed past Dodger to his desk in the corner. Jenna looked his way and Dodger followed her gaze as Balto rifled through one of the drawers and set something on the desk. A few moments of scribbling passed and Balto set aside his pen. Taking a large rubber stamp from its holder on the desk, he branded the paper and turned to present it to Dodger.
The terrier shied away. "I told you, with all due respect, I'm not taking a ticket."
"It's not a ticket," Balto replied, extending his arm. "Just a thank you."
Hesitantly, Dodger plucked the folded paper from Balto's hand and flipped it open. Almost immediately, his brow furrowed as he read it aloud. "Dear Dodger, my wife and I cannot possibly thank you enough. Travel safely, and stay out of trouble. Signed, Balto Seppala, GM." He met Balto's gaze and crooked an eyebrow. "You could have just said so."
"Sure, but now you have it in writing," the wolf-dog replied, cracking a grin, "from the desk of the general manager no less. Who knows? It might open a door for you one day."
Dodger glanced down at the paper again and saw the stationary heading. With an almost panicky look, he tried to give it back, only for Balto to clasp his hands behind his back. Grumbling, he brought it up and made to tear it apart, only for Jenna to put her hand on his arm.
"Dodger, take it, please."
Her tone of voice was enough to tear his eyes from the paper, and his ears flattened against his skull.
"Oh no, no, don't look at me like that, that's not fair."
Jenna merely placed her other hand on his arm and dipped her muzzle. "Please," she murmured, "let us thank you somehow."
Dodger practically flinched at her words, but couldn't seem to wrench his arm from her grasp. His free hand tried to cover his eyes, but he never turned away. "Oh jeez, all right, all right." Taking the paper in his suddenly-free hands he folded it and tucked it into his front chest pocket. Tossing his arms out, he looked to Jenna. "There, safe and sound, are you happy?"
"Ecstatic," she replied, stepping quickly forward to give him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Dodger."
The terrier stood stock-still, a look of astonishment on his face.
"Well," Balto cleared his throat, "if we're dining alone tonight you don't have to stay in your best, my dear."
"Of course," she replied, walking to the corridor but turning back with a smile. "Take care, Dodger."
Just as quickly, she was gone, shutting the corridor door behind her. The two men looked at each other, and Balto gave an exaggerated shrug.
Dodger threw up his hands, but spoke barely above a whisper. "How's a guy supposed to say no to that face?"
Balto glanced at the door, still shut, and leaned toward him. "If you ever find out," he said softly, "let me know."
There came a quick knock on the rear door and a spotted-furred dalmatian stuck his head in.
"Your contest winner's tucked away, sir," he said, "and we're all set to go."
Balto's hackles raised for the briefest moment, but he clapped Dodger on the shoulder and nudged him toward the conductor. "Thank you, Freckles. Mister Dodger won't be able to join us for the excursion, so he'll need to hop off."
"Of course, sir."
Wolf-dog and terrier regarded each other, and when Balto stuck out his hand Dodger took it. Then, donning his cap, he slipped out the door and was gone. Freckles made to go as well, but Balto held out a hand and motioned him closer.
"Pass the word along to your mates that Mister Dodger's a friend of our railroad, you understand?"
Freckles grinned. "Yes sir."
"Good boy, off you go."
Touching his cap, Freckles hopped off the rear platform and looked forward. Raising his hand, he brought it down and up again several times. In the near distance, a whistle sounded. Moments later, the car shuddered and the train rumbled out of the station in a cloud of steam.
While waiting to reward an expected dinner guest, Balto is approached by another passenger who is looking for more than polite conversation. Jenna has other ideas. From first class to the boxcars, life on the Western & Atlantic is anything but ordinary.
Another story from the Western & Atlantic. Written with the assistance by the ever talented LoneWolfSniper44
