Chapter 2 — Caught In The Act

By the time CB had caught up with his fellow conspirators, however, he could tell something was wrong. Greaseball and Electra were standing side by side with identically fallen faces, and were faced by what looked like a race official. CB hesitated, wondering if he shouldn't make good of his escape straight away, but Electra had already spotted him. Trying hard not to be seen, the electric train instantly started trying to motion for CB to leave, but the Marshal noticed Electra's movement and turned around.

"There you are," he said, unsmiling. "Come here, Caboose."

CB hesitantly made his way over to the others, unsure of what to think. Was this about the race? No one but them knew what had really happened—no one but Pearl, and she wouldn't dare tell anyone—would she?

"I've just had a word with the observation car," the Marshall told him, casually giving CB a shove that sent him up against the wall between Greaseball and Electra. "She seemed to think it important that I heard an account of what really went on in today's race."

CB could feel Greaseball's clenched fists shaking at his sides in blatant fury. He swallowed painfully, debating the likelihood of what was about to happen.

"Is it true that you interfered with the race on the steam train's behalf?"

An idea struck CB. "No," he said defiantly. "I was on his team. Why would I interfere?"

"Pearl tells me that you refused to disengage your brakes at the start of the race."

"I'm a brake vehicle," CB objected in a hurt tone. "My brakes jammed. I couldn't take them off."

It seemed like the perfect excuse, but for some reason CB could tell it hadn't worked. Electra sighed and Greaseball hung his head.

"Nice try, CB," the Marshall chuckled, still not smiling. "But I've already heard the true story from our conspirators here."

CB's mouth dropped, and he turned to stare at Greaseball. Electra, maybe, couldn't be trusted—he was a new train on the scene. But CB and Greaseball had been one and the same for years, and had always been prepared to back one another up whatever the situation. How could he now have given them away?

"Since Pearl came to confess to me, she will not be included in the punishment," the Marshall began.

"But you're suspending us?" CB asked, trying to look unfazed, his mouth very dry. To his alarm, Greaseball turned away as though in shame.

"Well, the way I've heard it, CB," the Marshall continued, "you are the main culprit in this ordeal. It was, after all, your idea to sabotage the race."

"But—"

"And it was your idea to trick Rusty into partnering you."

"But I—"

"And on top of that it was in fact you that actually committed the offence. For all I know Greaseball and Electra may have played no part. And for their honesty and lack of direct participation I am excluding them from your punishment."

CB's mouth dropped open again. "I—" He began, but inspiration failed. Greaseball was still staring determinedly away, and Electra simply gazed at the ground.

"I suggest," the Marshall said at length, "Greaseball, Electra, I suggest that you return to training for the next race and think yourselves very lucky."

Greaseball immediately pushed off the wall and skated away without a backward glance. Electra glanced at CB, who stared back in a cold mix of shock and dislike. Without responding, Electra followed Greaseball away. The Marshall turned back onto CB.

"Caboose," he said seriously, "you are hereby indefinitely suspended from racing. You will be notified when—or if—this ban is lifted."

CB didn't know what to say. Nothing the Marshall was saying sounded real. Wordlessly he made to head back to the yard.

"In addition," the Marshall added to his retreating back, "you are placed on probation from your freight duties." He waited for CB to turn back to him in disbelief before adding, "Permanently."