Condensed excerpt from the full story . . .

"I've left my wallet at home. Can you give me some money for food?" With a sense of unreality, Stephen realized that he was in trouble. By choosing this particular coach he had totally isolated himself from fellow passengers. Assaults on the trains were reported daily. People were held up, robbed and even thrown from the windows of moving trains.

Stephen tried to smile. His dry mouth struggled to form words. "Why sure …"

He jerked back as his assailant struck him on the arm. Vaguely aware that his attacker was aiming for his head, Stephen threw his arm up to shield his face. The mugger rained blows on his body.

Between blows, Stephen saw two other men grab his bag. They rifled through it, dropping books, papers and his lunch-box. They stuffed their pockets with smaller items-his good pens, calculator, his student card.

Above the train's noise he heard the window open. Stephen saw his empty bag hurtle out. He stiffened in terror as two of the thieves grabbed him, grappling for a better grip. There was no time to even try to break loose. He was trapped. As he sent up an urgent prayer, his feet left the floor. Stephen closed his eyes and steeled himself for the plunge.

He stumbled and nearly fell as his feet thumped back to the ground. His attackers swung around to gape at the end of the aisle, and their grip slackened. Falling over each other, pushing and shoving, they fled down the aisle, glancing frantically over their shoulders. They wrenched open the nearest carriage door and vanished.

Stephen stared in awe up and down the coach. There was no one to be seen. He was alone. Story continues.

Shirley M. Corder©2003

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