Early in the morning of the 4th, sometime before sunrise, you are pulled from your sleep by the noise of an imperious hammering on a neighbouring hotel room door.Even the groggiest amongst you recognise Starkweather’s voice, though it has a frenzied edge that none of you have heard before.
“Moore!” he shouts. “Blast you man, I want you awake! Moore!”
Upon looking into the hall you see Starkweather, in robe and pajamas, standing before the door to Moore’s room. His hair is disheveled and he is unshaven. One fist beats furiously on Moore’s door, whilst a morning newspaper is crushed in the other. Uncharacteristically, Starkweather is in an utter rage – you have never seen him like this.
He pays no attention to anyone around him. After a moment he gives up his pounding and slams against Moore’s door, bursting it open with a loud crash, and storms inside. A quick look inside shows Moore, in bed, scrambling around for his glasses and robe while Starkweather bellows, beet red, and thrusts the newspaper furiously in Moore’s face.
“It’s her, Moore! All the time it was her! I should have known! Who else could it have been? The conniving witch! I should have suspected her hand in things from the beginning! Blast it Moore, listen to me! How esle could she stop me? Who else could have switched those cans of fish with oil? Who else has the money to spy on us? To throw things in our way? Ruin our goods! Sabotage the dog cages! Delay our train! Poison the minds of trusted employees! To bribe, to steal, to throw barricades before us, for her own spiteful little reasons!
“I won’t allow it Moore! Not this time! She won’t get the upper hand this time! I’ll prove to everyone that she’s nothing more than a-”
Starkweather stops in mid-sentence. He looks around, still breathing heavily, suddenly aware of the watchers in the hall, and visibly makes a decision. Throwing the newspaper down with a snap in front of the disheveled professor, he says in a terribly steely voice "Advance the schedule Moore! We’re leaving on the 9th. The 9th Moore! See to it!
“And Moore…get me a woman!”
With that Starkweather storms out through the door, brushes roughly past the onlookers and, ignoring everyone, stomps up hte stairs and disappears into this room.
Moore sits quietly in his room. At first he seems as confused as you; after he picks up the newspapers left behind by Starkweather and glances at the open page, he goes quite still for a moment, then sighs.
Looking up at the others in the doorway, he straightens his glasses and says, with deadpan composure, “Gentlemen, you heard Mister Starkweather. The schedule is advanced; we now leave on the 9th. I shall see you at breakfast. We’ll have to work a bit harder, I’m afraid. Now if you will excuse me, I must dress.”
He hands you the newspaper and closes the door.