Percy's Plight

When I woke, I was groggy and hadn't a clue where I was. My eyes fluttered open. A heavy woolen overcoat covered my body, but I could see through where a fold of the cloth had fallen away. The sun was coming in from a window. I could make out two figures sitting opposite me. The man I didn't recognize, but the woman was familiar. They were deep in conversation and were not looking my way.

Wherever I was, it wasn't home. I was woozy and could feel a rocking motion beneath me that didn't help my queasy stomach. I remembered there had been quite the party at our home the night before, and I was feeling done in by the end of the evening. Finishing the drink the maid had poured for me, I went for a lie-down in the study. The last thing I recollected was Lady Fairchild calling, “Percy, come to bed!” All went dark.

And now, here I was. No longer in the study, but in this place that was moving. I could make out a faint clackity clacking sound. As my foggy brain cleared, I realized it was the sound that wheels of a train make on rails, just like the time Lady Fairchild and I had taken a train to the coast.

We were speeding along, but to where? I ventured another look with narrowed eyes. Careful to make no movements of my head lest they look in my direction, I slowly surveyed my surroundings. The curtained windows on one side of the compartment were open. I could see upper storage racks with a scant few pieces of luggage overhead. Yes! I was in a train car!

I had a bad feeling about all of this. Whoever these people were, they did not have my best interests at heart. They seemed to be not the type of people who strolled in Regent's Park as Lady Fairchild and I were wont to do. Rather, they were the kind that frequented the shadowy world of London. They were the sorts of rogues who drugged and kidnapped family members and held them for ransom.

I tried to think of what to do, but these clever blacklegs never left me alone. They had thrown a heavy traveling coat over me when the conductor came around to collect tickets. They slyly told him I was sick, and we were going to Edinburgh for treatment. At that point, my head had still been in a fog from the drug they had put in my drink. It had caused me to regurgitate my dinner from the night before. The woman who was strangely familiar cleaned up the mess and sprayed a cloyingly sweet perfume to mask the odor. She then clamped a heavier smelling rag over my nose. My surroundings swirled. I could not even raise my head to call out. Now, I had to bide my time, try to gather my strength, and wait for an opportunity to escape my captors.

Seconds, minutes, hours later, I felt myself coming awake again. Instinct told me to stay put and not let them know that I was conscious. I tried to focus my eyes to garner a better look at them. With the thinnest of mustaches, small close-set eyes, and oily black hair, the man was a stranger to me. But to my shock, the woman with him was our house maid, Clara! I could not believe it! I listened in horror.

With a sinister chuckle the man said, “You have played your part well, my dear, of the distraught maid who discovers the kidnapper's note.”

“Do you really think it will work, Malcolm? Do you think she’ll pay us the money?,” Clara simpered.

Malcolm coolly lit a Woodbine and gestured contemptuously in my direction. “When we get to Scotland, we'll send Lady Fairchild the details of how the ransom money is to be delivered. By that time, she'll be absolutely frantic.” He took a long puff of his cigarette. “She will indeed pay for her beloved Percy's return. Rest assured, soon we will be living in the lap of luxury.” There was treachery in his voice, and I shivered beneath the coat.

My mind raced. Scotland. So that's where this train was headed, and I was their ransom. I watched and waited for the drug to fade from my system. When I saw they weren't looking, I wiggled my feet to get circulation going again. I considered my options. I could leap up and jump through the open window. I quickly discarded the idea. I did not know what type of embankment I would be tumbling down, and the train was moving along at a dangerous clip. Another plan I mulled over was to spring up and overwhelm my captors. But they were two and I was one. I abandoned that idea also. Finally, I hit upon a plausible plan of action. I carefully calculated the distance between myself and the sliding door that would permit me passage into the train's hallway. When the time was right, I would shrug off the heavy overcoat, surprise my captors, and make a dash for freedom. I would be ready.

After several more hours of lying in wait, I heard a conductor call out, “Edinburgh, next stop! Edinburgh!” I felt the train slowing. At last! Here was my opportunity to get away! My kidnappers, weary from lack of sleep and from guarding me, slowly rose from their seats and began to ready themselves to disembark. They thought I was still incapacitated. Malcolm took a cumbersome valise from the upper luggage rack and handed it to Clara. She slid open the compartment door as he said to her, “Here, give me a hand with him.”

Now was the time! I sprang up and threw off the overcoat. I was not going to be wrapped up like a sausage! I was not going to be their prisoner! I shot through the compartment door and into the passageway. I was free! Startled, Malcolm toppled backward and cursed at Clara. “Get him!” He shouted.

I hurtled down the passage, wobbly at first, but quickly regained the full use of my legs. I ran, heart beating hard in my chest. I had to get away! I had to find someone to help me! I could hear my captors scrambling after me. Just then, a distant door opened, and two gentlemen emerged with their luggage.

The stout, jovial man laughed while saying, “I can see those trout jumping into my creel now, what!”

The taller man in a deerstalker hat replied, “Yes, and afterwards we'll sit by a roaring fire with a good pipe.”

I skidded to a halt, but couldn't stop myself from colliding with their trousered legs. These men were my kind of people, the kind that fished mountain streams and enjoyed fireside camaraderie. I began pleading my case to them. The heavier man leaned down with a harrumph and gathered me into his arms, “What's this now? Who are you my fine little chap?” The taller man with the sharp aquiline nose and the strange cap considered me with an amused smile.

Malcolm and Clara slowed their pursuit, assessing the unexpected situation. They saw I had found two sympathetic men and knew they had to do some fast talking to get me back. Malcolm’s eyes narrowed in poorly-veiled fury as he demanded, “Release our dog. He's being very disobedient.”

No! No! I was not going to go back! I barked and snapped at him in the most menacing tone I could muster. I would bite off his finger if I had to or latch on to Clara's kneecap, but I was not going to go back!

My rescuers were surprised at my ferocious response. They looked at the couple with raised eyebrows. I could see that the tall man was evaluating this stand-off. They did not hand me over.

Clara came forward, wide-eyed and desperate, trying to persuade them. “Our dog, he's not used to train travel and is easily excited.” She held out her arms to me. Clara, whom I had trusted, had cruelly betrayed me. She had drugged me and helped an evil man take me from my home. All for love and money.

I barred my sharp little teeth and growled at her. She was my friend no longer. Malcolm took an angry step forward to wrench me away. The two gentlemen held their ground. The deerstalker man reached into his overcoat pocket, pulled out a revolver, and pointed it at them.

“Holmes! What are you doing?” His companion who held me, shouted in confusion.

Malcolm hissed and took a step backward, “Sherlock Holmes?!”

“Indeed.” Sherlock Holmes responded. “Get back you two! Watson, these are not the dog's owners. They are the masterminds behind the kidnapping, or should I say, dog napping, of Lady Fairchild's Fox Terrier, Percy. I read about their caper in the newspaper before we departed on our train.”

Upon hearing my name, I yipped happily. I knew I was safe and would not be handed over to meet an unpleasant fate in Scotland. I would be reunited with Lady Fairchild.

Holmes continued as he held the firearm steady. “It was elementary, my dear Watson. I knew immediately that these two were not the dog's true owners. No dog growls and bares its teeth at its master. And, if I'm not mistaken, I detect the faint odor of chloroform on this poor dog.”

I could feel Watson tighten his protective grip on me. He said, “This is a most terrible ordeal to put a woman and her faithful companion through.” I felt his bristly whiskers as I nuzzled his face.

“It is indeed, Watson.” Holmes kept the pistol pointed at the couple. By this time, other passengers were in the process of disembarking, and they blocked the passageway. My two captors were ashen-faced, knowing the game was up. There was no place for them to run.

“You, madam,” Holmes accused, “must be the maid who allowed your accomplice in to the Fairchild home after you drugged poor Percy. It was then only too easy for your companion here to spirit him away. Afterwards, you met again on the train for the final leg of your crime. Most fortunate for Percy though,” he smiled grimly, “is that I, Sherlock Holmes, and Dr. Watson should be traveling aboard the same train on which our little friend was being held captive.”

By this time, the train was sitting almost empty at the platform. The conductor had alerted the local constables to arrest the two dog nappers. I watched with satisfaction as they were led away, their shoulders bowed in defeat.

Turning to the head constable, Holmes commanded, “Please notify Lady Fairchild at once that Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson have her Percy safe and sound with us. He shall be returned to London on our way back from a much-deserved holiday. In the meantime, we will guard him with our lives.”

My rescuers gathered up their luggage. “Come Watson, and bring our brave friend Percy to our lodgings at the King's Arms. We shall all tuck in to a hot steak and kidney pie.”

Watson laughed and patted me on the head. “Yes, indeed. Splendid idea, Holmes.”

I wagged my tail in agreement. A hearty meal with my two new friends sounded jolly good to me!