Henry gave a few final instructions to the driver, Leon, then stepped into the carriage and departed for the Astor House. At the coast, the Vanderbilt family had arranged for a private ferry to take the guests back across to Manhattan. The Brooklyn Bridge was still under construction.
On the other side, Henry had the carriage drop him off in a deserted area. He changed into a disguise, summoned a quarter horse, and rode for Grand Central Station. A freight train was scheduled to depart for Chicago at 1:05 AM.
He arrived a little after midnight. He paid a station manager fifty cents to get the train's departure location and to look the other way as he hopped the fence. He found the train, a 132-car beast, and, using his enhanced sense of smell, located a car that was carrying a light load of clothing. He picked the lock, slipped inside, and cleared a nine-cubic-meter space by storing a few of the clothing bales.
After the train had left the station, he fired two shots from his Sharps rifle, one in the roof and one in the side of the car, to create ventilation holes. Then he laid out some thick pads, set his alarm clock, and went to sleep.
He was awoken by the alarm at 7 AM. He was somewhere between Maryland and Washington D.C. As the train began to slow, he jumped, his powerful legs easily absorbing the impact. He summoned an Appaloosa—a breed known for its endurance—and rode for Washington. He would catch a passenger train to Chicago from there; a freight car in the summer sun would be an oven.
On the way, he disposed of the empty safes, clearing up his storage space. He knew that with the hotel providing him with an alibi, no one would realize he had even left New York until that evening's dinner party at the latest. By then, he would be long gone.
In New York, Charlie, the last surviving member of Jacob's team, finally managed to send a telegram to the black market headquarters in Chicago. He had seen his two comrades, Jacob and Jim, hanging from the trees like grotesque pendulums, and had fled in terror. The New York black market headquarters had been destroyed, and he had no one to report to. He suspected a traitor in their own organization.
Henry arrived in Washington and found there was a Pullman sleeper leaving for Chicago at 10:25 AM. He bought a ticket.
In Chicago, the black market chief, Morrison, received Charlie's telegram and was thrown into a state of confusion. Six of his best men, missing. His top three snipers, all dead. He began to send out telegrams of his own, trying to piece together the disastrous puzzle.
In New York, William Vanderbilt learned the truth of his granddaughter's kidnapping from Consuelo herself. He now knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that Henry had been the one to destroy the Whyos.
Gould and Silva, he thought, his mind racing. So that's their game. He also learned of his granddaughter's public kiss, and he was not displeased.
The story of the battle at the Vanderbilt estate had already leaked to the press. The editor of the New York Sun, Conrad, rushed to the Astor House to get an exclusive interview with Henry, but was told the young Sheriff was out.
Henry, meanwhile, was on the train to Chicago, disguised in a simple newsboy cap and a thick beard, poring over the intelligence files he had taken from the black market and the Pinkertons.
In Chicago, Morrison received another telegram, this one from a source in New York with a full account of the events at the Vanderbilt party.
"The Eye of Balor" was dead. So were Jacob and Jim. Henry had killed them with two impossible shots from a rifle he had conjured from thin air.
He's not human, Morrison thought, a wave of pure, primal fear washing over him. He knew now that his remaining six Diamond-level operatives were likely already dead as well. He could no longer rely on a simple assassination. He began to send out a new set of telegrams.
That afternoon, at the Vanderbilt estate, Annie and her husband finally gave their shooting performance. But the crowd, having now witnessed Henry's god-like feats, was less impressed. Her tricks were remarkable, to be sure, but they were just that. Tricks.
At 6 PM, the evening edition of the Sun hit the streets, its headlines even more sensational than the day before.
"GUN GOD" HENRY KILLS THREE TOP ASSASSINS AT VANDERBILT ESTATE!
THE SECRET IDENTITY OF SHERIFF HENRY REVEALED!
ITALIAN FENCING MASTER DEFEATED IN INSTANT! SHERIFF HENRY'S SWORD SKILLS ALSO UNMATCHED!
"FIRST LADY OF NEW YORK" KISSES SHERIFF HENRY AT COMING-OF-AGE BALL!
The city, and the nation, was once again thrown into a frenzy.