Author Note: This is part 5 of a series. It can be read independently, but it will make a lot more sense if you read the episodes in order.

The characters presented in this story are entirely fictional and not intended to represent any members of a real life railroading or model railroading organization.

Background Info: The Scioto River runs through central Ohio, emptying into the Ohio River south of Columbus. Scioto (pronounced SY-OH-TOH) actually means "deer" in the Wyandot language spoken by the branch of the Huron Indian tribe that once inhabited central Ohio. Railroads formed an important part of the local economy throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries. Both the Norfolk & Western Railroad and the Chesapeake & Ohio Railroad had branch lines running through the Scioto Valley. By the 1980s only a single line owned by the Norfolk Southern Railway was still in use. Many of the other railroad tracks in the valley were gone, having been torn out and replaced with hiking and biking trails that followed the meandering course of the river through the valley.

Local interest in railroading remained high, with a few small railroad and trolley museums located in some of the major towns along the old right of way. There was also the Scioto Valley Model Railroading Society, a group of men and boys who operated a large HO scale layout in the basement of a local church. The massive 24 foot by 32 foot layout modeled the local railroads as they existed circa 1950, when steam locomotives were still in use but diesel locomotives were being introduced. The members of the society dubbed their layout the Scioto Valley Railroad (SVRR).

In the summer of 1984 a car-load of members of the Scioto Valley Model Railroading Society went on a road trip...

By the time the train arrived back in Strasburg it was just after 2:45 PM. This presented a problem since surprisingly enough the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania closed its doors at 5 PM every day, even during the summer tourist season. This meant that there was nowhere near enough time to see the museum that afternoon. Because of the delays caused by the morning storms their visit to the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania would have to wait until Wednesday.

Sam Arden ended up having to stand for virtually the entire trip from Groff's Grove back to Strasburg. The poor kid was in no condition to sit, or to sightsee, since it was pretty obvious that he had been crying and he was still moving a bit stiffly, not to mention the fact that he smelled a bit like a urinal. He really needed a shower, plus he was going commando, which was not the best idea considering everything that had happened. Thomas took him back to the motel to get cleaned up and rest a bit. The father and son duo walked slowly back to the Red Caboose Motel, a distance of only about a half mile since they walked along the tracks.

Donald took Rob into the public men's room at the Strasburg station and examined the state of his son's clothing. The 14-year-old found it really humiliating to stand there by the sink while his father washed off his lower back and soaked as much of Sam's pee out the back of Rob's briefs as he could. Donald would brook no arguments from his son but at least he declared Rob's wardrobe in good enough condition to finish the afternoon at the railroad complex. Rob wasn't very happy about this event, but considering what Sam and Casey had just been through and after seeing the stern look on his father's face he decided it would be wise to keep his opinions to himself.

After getting Rob cleaned up and presentable Donald led the remainder of the group as they explored the rest of the Strasburg Railroad station and depot complex. There was an actual pump hand cart set up on a short stretch of track that visitors could operate under the supervision of a railroad staff member. There were several attractions for younger children, including a narrow gauge "garden railroad" with a live steam locomotive pulling rail cars on which children could sit and ride around the property. In theory all the members of their group apart from Donald could have ridden on this small railroad, but only Jeff and Kenny would admit to being that childish. The others apparently felt the same way about it as Rob did, that riding on a tiny train like that was pretty lame compared to the real thing that was available at the same location. Rob also suspected that Casey was happier to remain standing than to sit down at that point in time.

There were several old full-sized locomotives and rail cars on side tracks. Some of them appeared to be operational spares, and some were undergoing restoration or repair. The Strasburg Railroad had a more impressive collection of late 19th and early 20th century locomotives and rolling stock than Rob had ever seen gathered in one place before, and apparently that was only the warm up act.

It was obvious, just from what could be seen from across the road, that the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania had an even larger collection of railroad equipment. Donald pointed out one key difference - the majority of the equipment owned by the Strasburg Railroad was operational to some extent or another, or was being restored to operational status. Almost all the equipment in the Museum had been restored for display purposes only.

When the group finished exploring they visited the Strasburg Railroad Train Store, the official name of the gift shop, before heading back to the car. Everyone ended up with some kind of Strasburg Railroad tee shirt they could wear for club meetings back home. In fact Donald bought shirts for Thomas and Sam so they wouldn't be left out. Kenny and Jeff also got 'official' Conductor hats. The boys picked out various other souvenirs as their budgets would allow. Donald's final purchase caused a considerable amount of consternation among the boys.

"Donald," said Mark, a look of great concern on his face. "Are you gonna buy both of those paddles?"

"Yes I am, Mark," said Donald. He had picked out two standard sized wooden spanking paddles with novelty designs on them. One was the "Attitude Adjuster" and one was the "Board of Education". Like all the paddles on sale there, they had a small hand painted label at the base of the handle that read 'Amish Country, Strasburg, Pa.'

"Are they gifts for people back home?" Mark asked hopefully.

"One of them is a gift... for Tom Arden," said Donald. "The other I plan to keep for myself."

"You're gonna hang one of those things on the wall back home?" said Kenny.

"I doubt it," said Donald. "You never know when I might need to use it, so I plan to keep it handy."

"But Dad," complained Kenny, "you already have the strap back home."

"That's just it," said Donald, "the strap is at home but the naughty boys are here. I plan to keep the paddle in the car."

Rob and his brother exchanged glances. Kenny looked scared, but Rob just pointed a finger at his little brother and mouthed the words 'For you'.

"Nuh, uh!" said Kenny, who was looking mildly panicked. "You're gonna get it, too, Robby."

Rob laughed. Despite being a reasonably intelligent 11-year-old, Kenny sometimes reverted to sounding like a 5-year-old when he was scared. He replied, "I wouldn't bet the farm on that one, little brother."

Kenny grumbled and then turned his attention elsewhere, "It's all Casey's fault!"

"What's my fault?" said Casey, a bemused and yet worried expression on his face. How did he manage to combine those two emotions into a single facial expression?

"We're gonna get paddled cause of your.... your stupid sign junk," said Kenny, who seemed at a loss as to how to describe Casey's 'prediction'. Rob could hardly blame the kid for that.

"Calm down, boys," said Donald. "Nobody is getting paddled today. At least I hope not. I did say I just wanted to keep a paddle handy."

Kenny calmed down after that reassurance from his father, although he kept giving Casey fairly dirty looks. It could turn into an interesting evening back in their caboose if Kenny kept that up. In any event Rob wouldn't bet a single penny on Kenny being able to make it through the rest of this trip without getting his first dose of their father's new paddle.

Actually that provoked a thought that made Rob a lot less concerned about the whole sign thing. Even if Casey was right about six spankings for their group, it didn't necessarily mean that each of the six boys in the group was gonna get spanked once. Kenny was quite likely to earn at least one or two more spankings on this trip the way he was going... that could account for four and five down. He decided to keep this revelation to himself. Casey would probably just dismiss it. And maybe between them Kenny and Mark will get nervous and/or careless enough to use up the other three spankings on the list. That is if any of the adults on this trip were even authorized to spank Mark. Of course the way Mark had been acting at least he seemed to think the answer to that one was a resounding "yes". All Rob could do at that point was bide his time and see how events unfolded.

As they waited in line at the check out counter Rob couldn't help noticing that his father wasn't the only customer in the crowded gift shop who was buying one or more of the novelty spanking paddles. So far all the Lancaster County gift shops he had been in sold at least a small selection of the silly things. Rob wondered how many spanking paddles were sold in Lancaster County every year?

Rob remembered reading somewhere that many Amish men who were not farmers worked in wood-working businesses. He couldn't help imagining a small army of bearded Amish men crafting 1000s of spanking paddles to be sold to the "English" tourists who flocked to the area in droves every summer. Did they use the factory rejects on their own kids?

Even better, did the Amish still use apprenticeships for trades like carpentry or woodworking? Rob imagined himself as a 14-year-old Amish boy with a 'starter beard' working as an apprentice in a spanking paddle manufacturing shop. The most unfortunate duty of the apprentices would be having to bend over for 'quality control testing' sessions with each and every paddle produced by the shop. He wondered if Jesus allowed the Amish to spank their kids, or their apprentices, on the bare backside? Either way, at least they wouldn't need to provide chairs for the spanking paddle shop apprentices. Their backsides would be far too sore and permanently blistered to sit down anyway.

Oh, crap! That fantasy gave Rob another huge tent in his pants. Well, at least he would have a bag of swag to hide the tent behind until it went down.

The gang loaded all their swag in the back of the big Mercury station wagon for the short trip back to the motel. Rob rode shotgun for the brief trip while Casey piled in the back seat with the other three boys.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the motel Thomas was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch of the office/restaurant building reading a tourist booklet. He told them that Sam was taking a nap back in their Great Northern Railway caboose. He helped them unload the swag from the car. Donald presented Thomas with the tee shirts he had purchased for him and Sam, and gave the man his choice of the two paddles. Thomas found a lot more humor in the novelty spanking paddles than the boys had. No surprise there. After careful consideration and examination Thomas chose the Board of Education paddle, leaving Donald with the Attitude Adjuster.

Thomas informed them that he had been able to secure a 6 PM dinner reservation for eight people at the Iron Horse Inn in downtown Strasburg. It was currently 5:12 PM according to Donald's watch, so they needed to hussle and get ready to leave for dinner. Thomas reminded everyone that the Iron Horse Inn was a kind of fancy place, though in a tourist sort of way. Ties and dress shirts were not required, but shorts, jeans and tee shirts were out. Everyone should wear long trousers. Some kind of shirt with a collar, like the SVRR polo shirts, was in order for dinner. Rob had been planning to change all his clothes anyway since the outfit he was wearing had absorbed nearly every kind of bodily secretion Sam Arden was capable of producing during the time Sam spent horsed on Rob's back getting his switching.

As the Chandlers and Casey approached their orange Seaboard Coast Line caboose Rob asked if he could take a quick shower before dinner. Donald said yes, but he needed to talk to all three of them first. The boys dropped their purchases on their bunks and then lined up in front of the queen sized bed at Donald's direction.

Donald held his new Attitude Adjuster paddle up so that the boys could all read the printing. He said, "You've all seen this, I take it?"

The boys all acknowledged that they had seen the paddle. Donald said, "Well, I bought it to use on you boys if needed, since I left my spanking strap at home. For some reason I thought you boys might behave yourselves on this tri.."

"It's not fair, Dad!" said Kenny.

"What's not fair, son?"

Kenny said, "Why should we all get paddled just because Casey said that stupid stuff about those signs... and the cabooses... and stuff."

Donald sighed. "Kenny, if you guys get paddled it won't be because of Casey's prediction. It will be because of your own behavior. Speaking of which, young man, do not interrupt me when I'm talking. How many times have I had to remind you about that, Kenneth?"

Kenny was suddenly looking very sheepish, "Sorry, Dad."

"Don't be sorry, son. Just stop interrupting." He turned his attention to all three boys. "The truth is that all three of you are skating on thin ice at the moment. I'm not happy with the behavior of any of you. Unless you want a strong dose of my new paddle on the seat of your briefs... or your bare backside, I suggest you start behaving yourselves. Immediately."

Kenny raised his hand like when he had a question in school. Donald said "Yes, Kenny?"

"You're gonna paddle us on the bare bottom?"

"Yes, Kenny, I will paddle you on the bare bottom if you are getting it here in the motel room, or another private place. If it's in a more public place you will just have to drop your jeans or shorts and get paddled on the seat of your underpants."

Casey raised his hand. When Donald told him to go ahead he asked his question, "Will you carry the paddle with you wherever we go?"

"Not inside museums, stores or restaurants, no," said Donald. "But I will leave the paddle in the car when we go out, like for dinner tonight. If you mess up in a public place I will march you out to the car, drop the tailgate while you drop your pants, then you will bend over the tailgate while I warm the seat of your undies with my new paddle. And Casey, you need to understand that the switching I gave you in the grove today really was just a warning, not an example of a real punishment. One more step out of line, particularly in the potty mouth area, and you will get exactly the same punishment that I would give Robert for the same offense. I should warn you - I never give a set number of whacks. I punish a boy until I think he's learned his lesson."

Casey tried to raise his hand again. Donald said, "No, don't raise your hand. By 'learned his lesson' I mean that I punish a boy until he starts crying. I'm not saying you'll look as bad as Sam did earlier today. But when we go back into the place where you misbehaved I want people to see that you've been crying. You think of yourself as a young man, no doubt. But if you've earned a paddling it means that you've been acting like a naughty little boy and you will be paddled until you are crying like a little boy. Besides, a bit of public humiliation now and then is good for the souls of young men who get too big for their britches."

Donald checked his watch. "No more time for questions right now. We will have another chat when we get back from dinner tonight, when we can take our time about it. Meanwhile, here are your official warnings. Casey, stop swearing. Even before the incident in the grove I heard you use the F-word on the platform today while waiting for the train... in front of families with young children. That's not the behavior of young man, or of any man. If I hear that kind of language out of you again you will feel my new paddle on your seat. A long and hard session with the paddle that will make you cry. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Casey. "I understand. It won't happen again."

"Good," said Donald. He turned his attention to his own offspring. "You two, brotherly love. I want to see a lot more of it in your relationship with each other. I want to hear no more snide remarks and sound effects, and no more insults and threats. You don't have to be best friends, but you do have to show basic respect for each other as human beings, not to mention as brothers. You need to learn to work together being decent towards one another or," he waved the paddle menacingly, "you will learn to cry together as I light up both your backsides with this, understand?"

"Yes, sir!" said the Chandler brothers in unison.

"Excellent." said Donald. He pointed at Rob. "Rob! Hit the showers, and shake a leg. You have five minutes to be back out here and getting dressed... and I better not hear any grunting."

"Dad!" said Rob, blushing.

"What is it with all that grunting you guys do in the shower?" said Kenny.

"None of your beeswax, squirt!" said Rob.

"You can't talk to me like that anymore, you big idiot!" said Kenny.

"Robert!" said Donald, angrily. "Kenneth! I strongly advise you both to shut up. Right now! You think you've been getting away with it all this time...sniping and picking at each other constantly. Well, my sons... those days are over! You're in trouble now, up to your necks! They tell me that you're both intelligent and quick learners. Start proving it!" He waved the paddle at them, "You got me in the mood to use this thing. You better start being civil to each other, or by God I'll use it on both of you! I mean it!"

"Yes, sir," said both boys, sheepishly. Rob said, "I'll go grab a quick shower."

"Yes, go!" said Donald.

As Rob stripped off and piled his soiled clothes on his bunk he heard his father conducting an inspection of Kenny and Casey's clothing to see if their outfits were clean enough and appropriate to be worn to dinner. After a quick shower Rob started putting fresh clothes on. Kenny had changed into long pants but was still wearing his Scioto Valley Railroad polo shirt. Casey had changed over to long pants, and was now wearing his sky blue SVRR polo shirt, too. After seeing that Rob opted to don his sky blue SVRR polo as well. Might as well make it a matched foursome, at least in the shirt department.

Kenny had ended up holding both Rob's camera and Casey's camera during the events that transpired in Groff's Grove. The two teens had been too distracted by the events to ask for their cameras back. Amazingly enough Kenny had managed to not lose or break either camera and returned them to their owners as the train pulled into Groff's Grove station to take them all back to Strasburg.

Rob checked his Minolta camera and there were five shots left on the current roll of film. So when Kenny asked to borrow it for the trip into town for dinner Rob readily agreed. He told Kenny he could use up the last five shots so that a new roll of film could be placed in the camera for their visit to the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania the following day.

The gang met at the car and piled in the big station wagon. Donald drove them the two miles to downtown Strasburg. Rob wasn't sure what had transpired in the other caboose, but the Arden boys and Mark were just as subdued as Casey and Kenny were during the short trip. Sam had obviously showered, rested up a bit and put on fresh clothes. He didn't seem to have any trouble sitting in the car. It would be interesting to see how he fared sitting through dinner.

Sam and Mark had chosen to wear their blue SVRR polo shirts for the dinner outing. That meant that all eight people in their group were wearing the same shirt. Rob thought they looked a bit like a youth tennis team and two of the team's coaches. He hoped nobody challenged them to a match, because he hadn't had a tennis lesson since he was about 8-years-old, and he was fairly certain that Kenny had never held a tennis racket in his life.

The Iron Horse Inn was housed in an old building that started life as a 19th century roadhouse called The Hotel Strasburg. Now it was an upscale, but tourist casual restaurant with a mixed Western/railroading theme. There was a bar called the Conestoga Waiting Room adjacent to the dining room, so the adults were able to order beer with their dinner. The group was seated together at one long table. Sam seemed to be able to sit more or less comfortably. In fact Mark looked a lot worse off than Sam.

As much as Sam's condition had improved since they got back on the train at Groff's Grove that afternoon, Mark's seemed to have deteriorated. In fact if Rob had been asked to point out the boy in their group who had been severely whipped with switches just a few hours ago based solely on how they looked at dinner time, he would have pointed out Mark without hesitation. He couldn't help wondering what the hell had gone on in the other caboose while they were getting ready for dinner. Was it possible that Thomas had tried out his new paddle immediately?

After a bit of careful observation, Rob decided that probably was not the case. Mark looked miserable overall, but he was still sitting more comfortably, or at least less stiffly, than Sam and Casey were. Rob was actually kind of surprised that Sam was able to sit at all. He realized that 'eating meals standing up for a week' threat was just one more case of adult hyperbole. Rob liked the word 'hyperbole', which he had just learned in school a few months ago.

There was a bit of amusement while reading the menus. Jeff Arden was grossed out by the fact that the restaurant served escargot as an appetizer. "Snails? Yuck!"

Thomas was amused by his youngest son's reaction to the escargot, but he reassured him, "You don't have to order escargot, Jeff. There are plenty of other items on the menu you can try... or should I ask for a Kiddie Menu for you?"

"No! That's okay, Dad," said 9-year-old Jeff, clearly horrified at the idea of being given a child's menu again. "I'll find something on the regular menu."

Rob grinned to himself. He remembered what a big milestone it had been when he finally was old enough to begin ordering off the regular menu in restaurants. Even if the adult menus were sometimes confusing to him in those early days, he would never have admitted it and agreed to go back to ordering off of the 'Baby Menu'. Besides, in Rob's experience nearly every restaurant had one or more of the standard kid-friendly dishes like salisbury steak, chicken fingers or a basic pasta on their regular menu. This was particularly true in tourist towns like Strasburg. In fact Rob noticed that the Iron Horse Inn had a "Strasburger" on the dinner menu, so Jeff should be good to go.

The dinner menu at the Iron Horse Inn turned out to be fairly eclectic - another of Rob's favorite vocabulary words from eigth grade English class. Variations of many standard American dishes were available, but there was also some real German cuisine on the menu. In fact Kenny was talking about ordering the Wiener Schnitzel, and Rob started to get a bad feeling about the immediate future. His little brother's favorite restaurant back home in Ohio happened to be named 'Der Wienerschnitzel' and served hot dogs. In fact Kenny's 11th birthday party had been held at Der Wienerschnitzel at his request. Having some idea how his brother's mind worked, Rob decided he needed to clarify the situation. "Kenny, do you know what Wiener Schnitzel is?"

"Sure," said Kenny.

"Okay," said Rob. "But are you really sure? It's not hot dogs, like from your favorite place back home."

"I know it's not the same thing!" said Kenny. "Leave me alone Rob, I'm not a baby!"

"Okay," said Rob, nervously glancing at Donald, who was giving his sons the hairy eyeball. "I was just checking."

Rob was still not convinced that Kenny understood what he was ordering, but after that dire warning from their father back at the motel he wasn't going out on any limbs for his bratty brother. Just give the little moron all the rope so he can do a good job of hanging himself.

After they ordered Kenny took a couple of photos of the SVRR group seated at the table in their club polo shirts using Rob's camera. Three things about this surprised Rob. First of all, his new camera was a lot quieter than he had realized. It was definitely much quieter than his father's Nikon SLR with it's fancy automatic film advance mechanism. Secondly, Kenny didn't seem to mind the fact that he wouldn't appear in the pictures himself, although Rob considered the possibility that Kenny hadn't thought of that. Thirdly, Kenny seemed to actually know what he was doing and appeared to be framing the shots well. Perhaps the kid is capable of paying attention when he wants to. In any event it would be interesting to see how the shots that Kenny took came out once the film was developed.

While they were waiting for their food a man came up to their table and engaged Donald and Casey in conversation. It turned out that he was a model railroad hobbyist from New Jersey who recognized their SVRR shirts. The Scioto Valley Railroad club and layout had been featured in an issue of Model Railroader magazine back in 1983. In fact Donald and Casey had been featured in one of the photos. The man recognized them and shook both their hands before excusing himself and heading back to his table.

Rob felt a stab of jealousy over that photo and over Casey being recognized in the restaurant. He always felt that he should have been in that photo next to his father. In fact Rob had been working that part of the layout with Donald the evening of the photo shoot. But when the photographer found out that the club actually had a young member named Casey Jones, that made for too good a caption. It was certainly much more interesting than plain old Rob Chandler, who was asked to step aside so Casey could take his place... and steal the limelight.

Rob took a swig of iced tea, and suddenly wished he could order a beer. His father offered him an occasional swig from his bottle of beer back home - when Mom and Kenny weren't around. But he would never go for it in a public place like a restaurant, especially with Kenny the tattletale sitting right there.

The weird part was that Rob thought he was past these feelings of jealousy. He hadn't even thought about it for a few months, not even when he was working the same control station where that travesty of injustice had taken place... Wow! He really needed to calm down. Why had that doofus from New Jersey shaking Casey's hand stirred up all these emotions again?

"Are you okay?" whispered Casey, a look of concern on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," whispered Rob. Was he? Yeah, he would live. Besides, he knew that it hadn't been Casey's idea to take his place in the photo, it was that pushy photographer from Model Railroader.

Then the appetizers arrived. The smell of food made Rob forget all about stupid model railroad magazine photographs. He and Casey were splitting a big order of chicken wings. Sporting teenaged appetites, they dug right in. Kenny had ordered a shrimp cocktail, which was typical for him. He complained that the shrimp were too small, which was also typical.

"You know," said Casey, "there is a reason why they call them shrimp. They're supposed to be small."

"Not these!" said Kenny. "They're supposed to be Jumbo Shrimp."

"I like the joke George Carlin does about them," said Rob, "What exactly are Jumbo Shrimp? Big shrimp, or little jumbos?"

Everyone at the table laughed at that except for Kenny and Mark.

There were times in his life when Rob was unhappy to be proven right, and the arrival of their entrees was one of those times. As Rob had feared would be the case, Kenny was stunned and horrified by the Wiener Schnitzel that was delivered to him by the waitress.

"It's supposed to be a sausage!" insisted Kenny.

"No, it's supposed to be a breaded veal cutlet," said Donald. "And that is what you have there."

"That's not what the menu said," whined Kenny, a disgusted look on his face.

"That is exactly what the menu said," said Donald. "Rob even asked very politely if you were sure you understood what it was. You said you did understand. So eat it."

Kenny grumbled and started picking at his food.

"Kenny," said Casey. "Do you like veal parmesan?"

"Yeah," said Kenny.

"Well Wiener Schnitzel is like the German verion of veal parmesan, just without the tomato sauce and the cheese on top."

Kenny moaned, "But the tomato sauce and the cheese is the best part!"

Casey sighed and went back to eating his dinner. Rob exchanged glances with Casey and they both shrugged. At least they had tried to help the kid. If Kenny insisted on crashing and burning, that was his own problem.

Rob was really enjoying his Shrimp Scampi with linguini and Casey seemed to be enjoying his entree, some kind of Mediterranean-style chicken and pasta. Rob could not recall the name of the dish. After another two or three minutes of Kenny grumbling, whining and picking at his food without making any real attempt at eating, his father had finally had enough. "Kenneth," said Donald in a low, angry tone, "stop your whining now and eat your dinner."

Kenny groaned and grumbled, but made a half-hearted attempt at eating some of his meal. This lasted nearly five minutes before the eating stalled out, but the picking and grumbling continued.

The sharp clang of metal on china made everyone at the table look at Donald. The man had dropped his utensils on his plate and was glaring at his youngest son. "Kenneth Martin Chandler," said Donald in a quiet voice that sent a chill down Rob's spine, "this is your final warning. Either stop grumbling and finish eating your dinner quietly, or you and I will be taking a walk out to the car for a little talk. And then you will be ordering off the kiddie menu when we eat out for the rest of this trip."

Kenny had his usual look of petulant indignation on his face, right up until the point where his father threatened to make him order off the kiddie menu for the rest of their road trip. His petulant expression melted into one of dismay combined with panic. Rob had to stifle a laugh when his little brother quieted down and began seriously working on eating his Wiener Schnitzel. Perhaps Donald should consider carrying a kiddie menu around with him so he could threaten Kenny with it as needed.

It figured. After all the fuss and fury Kenny ended up liking his Wiener Schnitzel. That crazy kid... if it had been up to Rob the little brat wouldn't have gotten any dessert. But their dad was kind of a pushover, at least where his youngest son was concerned... at least when they were on vacation.

The SVRR gang was lazing over the remains of their desserts. Rob wasn't sure what a lot of the fancy desserts actually were so he went with an old standby, a slice of New York-style cheesecake, this one had a blueberry topping. Casey had chosen some kind of German Chocolate cake, and Kenny picked out some odd-looking French pastry with an unpronouncable name, but amazingly the kid liked it. There really was no telling with Kenny, at least as far as what he will freak out about, as opposed to what he will take in stride.

CRAAASSSHH!!! A horrendous noise came from the direction of the kitchen, clearly someone had dropped a huge tray of dishware, at the very least.

"Put that anywhere!" yelled some joker at a nearby table and everyone in the dining room laughed.

Things got considerably less funny a couple minutes later when the head waiter came up to Thomas and the two men started having a whispered, but very serious, conversation.

Rob was puzzled, but couldn't hear any of the conversation so he wasn't sure what was going on. Could there be some problem with their bill?

Casey leaned over and whispered, "Uh, oh. Have you seen Mark lately?"

Rob glanced over where Mark was sitting... make that where Mark had been sitting. That's weird, the kid had been so quiet through the whole meal that Rob hadn't even noticed when he left. He whispered back, "No. When did you last see him?"

"Not long after dessert was served."

Rob had a sudden bad feeling. "Gee, I hope that tray or whatever didn't fall on Mark."

"Yeah," said Casey. His friend looked just as concerned as Rob felt.

By this point Donald had walked around the table and had leaned in close to Thomas and the head waiter so they could have a shared whispered conversation. Within a minute Thomas left the room and Donald continued the whispered conversation with the head waiter. Eventually the head waiter went back towards the kitchen and Donald turned to address the boys. He hesitated for a moment, apparently gathering his thoughts. From the look on his father's face Rob could tell that this wasn't gonna be good news. "Okay, guys. Keep quiet and pay attention, I'm only gonna say this once. Mark was seen leaving the restaurant. Alone. We don't know exactly why. Tom went to go look for him. We need to get out to the parking lot and figure out what to do. If anyone needs to use the rest room, do it now."

The head waiter brought the check and Donald got out his wallet. Several boys started asking questions. "No questions!" said Donald. "I'll tell you more when we get to the car. Until then no questions. Just hit the men's room if you have to. We need to get out of here."

All five boys elected to use the rest room. Most of them probably figured it the same as Rob - with Mark missing, who knows how long it will be until they get back to the motel? After they finished Donald herded the boys out to his Mercury station wagon. He told them what was known about the situation.

• On his way to the rest room Mark bumped into a waiter.
• This caused the dinnerware crash that they had all heard when the waiter dropped a tray of food.
• Apparently Mark panicked and ran out of the building.
• Nobody saw which way he went after he left the building.

Donald assigned Rob and Casey to be his short range scout team. He had them conduct a sweep around the exterior of the Iron Horse Inn building and grounds, with strict instructions to stay together at all times and not leave the restaurant property, even if they spotted Mark. This was easily accomplished and their careful search turned up no signs of Mark. By the time they got back to the parking lot the police were there and Thomas had returned. Donald, Thomas and the head waiter were giving a statement to an officer of the Strasburg Police Department who was wearing sergeant stripes. Donald looked briefly at Rob, who shook his head and gave his father a 'thumbs down' sign to indicate they hadn't seen the fugitive.

After taking the men's statements the officer, Sergeant Hummel, sat in his car and used his radio to put out an All Points Bulletin on missing tourist Mark Leonard Rhinehart, a male caucasian, age 12, last seen leaving the Iron Horse Inn on Main Street. The highlight of the physical description was his sky blue Scioto Valley Railroad polo shirt. After another brief conversation with the men Sergeant Hummel got in his car and pulled out of the parking lot to join in the search. The head waiter exchanged a few words with Donald and Thomas, then went back inside the restaurant.

Rob and Casey volunteered to do more close in searching but the idea was shot down. Sergeant Hummel had specifically advised the men to keep the other five boys with them there in the parking lot. The last thing the police needed right then was for the streets of Strasburg to be flooded with adolescent boys dressed in the same uniform shirt as the missing person.

A few minutes later the gentleman from New Jersey who had approached Donald and Casey earlier emerged from the restaurant with his party, two middle-aged couples. It appeared that the other people in the restaurant were at least somewhat aware of there being some kind of problem with their group since the man approached Donald and asked if he and his friends could be of any help. Donald thanked the man but told him the police were looking for Mark and expected to find him quickly. Missing tourist kids generally didn't blend in well with the local Amish population and were usually easy to find.

Rob looked at his watch, it was 7:53 PM. Less than an hour until dusk. He hoped the police were able to find Mark before it got dark. Mostly he hoped that Mark was safe. He and Casey talked to Sam, trying to reassure him that his friend would be found in good shape.

Sam said, "I hope so. Even if he is in one piece when he's found, I'm worried he won't stay that way long. My dad will tear him to bits."

"Your dad has permission to spank Mark?" said Casey, asking the question that Rob was about to.

"Oh yeah, Casey," said Sam. "Mark's dad has the same kind of deal with my dad that your mom has with Rob's dad. I'm afraid that Mark picked the wrong day to pull this kind of stunt. My dad really has a short fuse today, as I found out to my regret earlier."

Rob really wanted to ask Mark why he had pushed his father so far that morning and afternoon, but he couldn't because Thomas was within earshot and almost certainly monitoring their conversation. He would have to wait and ask Mark the question some other time when there were no nosy adults lurking about.

At 8:20 PM (according to Rob's watch) a Strasburg police car pulled in to the parking lot. It was Sergeant Hummel, who rolled down his window and gave Thomas some good news - Mark had been found! He was safe! Another unit would be bringing him there in a few minutes. The SVRR group breathed a collective sigh of relief at this news. Mark was safe and sound, for the moment anyway. Casey nudged Rob and pointed at Sam. The youngster looked very concerned for his friend. At least Thomas didn't look nearly as angry as he had earlier in the day when Sam got his switching in Groff's Grove.

A few minutes later another Strasburg patrol car with its emergency lights on, but no siren, pulled into the parking lot of the Iron Horse Inn. Sergeant Hummel got out of his car and accompanied the group over to the second car. A young officer, whose name tag read 'Shoemaker', emerged from the second unit and reported to his supervisor, Sergeant Hummel, with the rest of the group listening in.

Apparently Mark had been found on Gap Road, the road that ran between the Strasburg Railroad and the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania. It seemed likely that he was actually walking back to their motel, which was only another half mile past those major attractions, just off the same road.

Thomas expressed doubt over this probability. Sergeant Hummel assured him that it was more common than you might think. Youngsters that cause a level of perceived damage where they are frightened enough to flee the scene usually calm down pretty quickly. Younger kids mostly just slink back to the scene of the "crime" once they've calmed down. Older kids who have the navigation skills and knowledge to get back to their motel will sometimes go there in the hope that parental anger will have cooled by the time they are found there later on.

"Does that ever work?" asked Sam.

Sergeant Hummel laughed and shook his head. "Not that I've ever noticed, no."

Casey seemed kind of disappointed to hear that. Figures, his best friend was always looking for new angles to lessen whatever trouble he managed to get into. Rob thought this was all well and good, but he wanted to know why they were letting Mark cool his heels in the back of the police cruiser. He asked what he thought was the most important question, "Is Mark under arrest?"

"No," said Officer Shoemaker, "but someone needs to have a serious talk with that young man. When I asked him to stop he fled and had to be run down. He ran across a highway and was nearly hit by a car. So was I, for that matter. We're both lucky to be in one piece."

Rob glanced at Thomas and was stunned at the change that came across the man's face as he watched. For the second time that day Rob was profoundly glad that he was not the target of that man's anger. Number four, your turn is next!

"I'm very sorry you were put in danger, Officer Shoemaker," said Thomas, his face once again a mask of anger. "I can assure you that I will be having a very serious talk with Mark immediately after you release him back into my custody."

"Very well, Mr. Arden," said Sergeant Hummel. "We can release Mark back into your custody now."

Rob was stunned when he realised that Sergeant Hummel was looking pretty angry, too. Uh, oh. Was the sarge gonna have a go at Mark's backside? Then as Officer Shoemaker opened the back door of his cruiser, Rob realized that the young cop was looking kind of sheepish. Was the Sergeant angry with him, not Mark? Hmm.

Officer Shoemaker helped Mark get out of the back seat of his cruiser. The reason the boy needed help was soon apparent - his hands were cuffed behind his back! Mark was white as a sheet, and he was unable to look anyone in the eye. He stared resolutely at the ground as Officer Shoemaker uncuffed him.

Sergeant Hummel and Thomas both stepped up to Mark and examined his wrists. The boy told them that his wrists were fine, and that he was unharmed. Sergeant Hummel then formally returned Mark Rhinehart to the custody of Thomas Arden. Thomas made Mark apologize to both officers and thank them for finding him and keeping him safe... from himself.

Then Thomas spoke quietly to Mark as the boy squirmed on his feet. In addition to understandable general nervousness, the boy looked like he really needed to pee. Considering what the poor kid was probably in for, Rob couldn't blame him.

Meanwhile Sergeant Hummel was speaking quietly to Officer Shoemaker, who frankly didn't look any happier about the conversation he was involved in than Mark did. In fact the young cop looked relieved when he was finally allowed to get back into his cruiser and head back out on patrol.

Thomas announced to the group that he and Mark were going into the restaurant so that the lad could apologize to the waiter he bumped into and to the head waiter. Mark would also get a chance to visit the rest room to relieve himself since "there had already been enough accidents during whippings today." Even in the deepening twilight it was clear that Sam was blushing at that remark.

Before leading the squirming boy back into the restaurant Thomas requested that Casey and Rob each cut a switch for Mark, that is if they could find any appropriate trees in the area. Donald told them not to leave the property during their switch hunt, but that wasn't gonna be a problem. Since Rob and Casey had searched the property earlier while looking for Mark, they knew there were a few likely-looking trees at the back end of the Iron Horse Inn parking lot.

"So will this be four down and two to go?" said Rob as each boy cut a switch from younger trees at the far back end of the parking lot.

Casey sighed, "Unfortunately for Mark, I would say very much so. From the look on Thomas's face the poor kid is in for a rough ride."

"I'm glad my dad will be the one whipping me, and not Thomas, when my turn comes," said Rob. "Err, I mean if my turn comes. Which it won't."

Casey laughed bitterly, "Oh, you're turn will come, my friend, as will mine. But I agree with you completely. I'd much rather have your father whipping my tail than Thomas. That man has too much anger inside him. It scares me a little. And look what it does to his own son."

"I know what you mean," said Rob. "Still, Sam seems okay just a few hours after what looked like a massacre."

"True enough," said Casey. "I just hope it always works out that way, starting with Mark."

Rob cut a switch that was about 3 feet long and maybe 3/8 inch in diameter. Casey's switch was a few inches longer and very slightly thicker. By the time they cut the switches and got back to the car it looked almost like some kind of small festival had broken out in the parking lot of the Iron Horse Inn. People were standing around their cars, in clusters. It appeared that a few of the groups that had been dining when the crash occurred were sticking around to see the after dinner fireworks in the parking lot.

Donald had prepared their family wagon for the festivities. The 1982 Mercury Marquis Colony Park station wagon, like all station wagons built by the Ford Motor Company since sometime in the 1960s, came with the Ford 'Magic Tailgate', that had two independent hinging systems. It could open as a door hinged on the left, or drop like the tailgate on a pickup truck. The main difference was that the tailgate would operate as a door with the window in any position, but the electric window had to be all the way down for it to open as a tailgate, which was the position it was in at that moment.

Rob thought that Sergeant Hummel had left since his car was gone from where he had parked when he returned with the good news about Mark. But it turned out he had just moved his patrol car to a more remote corner of the lot that was still within sight of their Mercury wagon. Now he was just sitting there in his car watching the drama unfold. Rob suddenly wondered if some kind of charges might be pressed if the sergeant didn't think that Mark had been punished enough when it was over.

Thomas and Mark emerged from the Iron Horse Inn followed by a man in a waiter's uniform. Presumably this was the waiter that Mark had bumped into when he caused the crash. Thomas had a hand firmly on Mark's shoulder and guided him over towards the Mercury wagon. Mark still looked pale, but at least he was no longer squirming. Apparently that had been caused by a full bladder and extreme anxiety. A slight buzz was heard from the various groups standing around in the gathering twilight as they realized that the show was about to start.

It was quickly getting dark and Thomas wasted no time. He asked Sam to climb in the back of the station wagon. His job would be to sit on the cargo deck and hold Mark's hands so that his friend couldn't reach back and get his hands hit by the switch as it descended towards his backside. Thomas took the switches from Rob and Casey. He tested them and pronounced them acceptable.

As Thomas ordered Mark into position behind the tailgate Rob and Casey tried to position themselves so as to obscure the view of at least some of the spectators standing by their own cars. Donald wasn't having this and he wordlessly but firmly grabbed the two teens by their shoulders and ushered them off to the side where they could still witness the whipping, but not interfere with the view of the spectators.

Mark complied with the order to drop his pants, revealing a pair of boxer shorts with some kind of check or plaid pattern, it was a bit hard to see which in the fading light. He was then ordered to drop his boxers and did so. Mark laid himself over the tailgate and his hands were grasped by Sam. Thomas pulled up the lad's polo shirt so it was clear of the target area and stepped back into position.

For the third time in the past few hours Rob saw a switch being lined up on an unmarked white backside. Thomas reared back for a big swing and slashed the switch down across the middle of Mark's twin cheeks. The boy grunted and his entire body tensed up. Thomas didn't believe in waiting after the first stroke and the switch began quickly rising and falling, slashing into the pubescent backside as it began to writhe.

On the fifth stroke Mark yelped, but he never really started howling. As the stripes were piled on it became apparent that he was crying, his body shaking with the sobs. The accumulating stripes could not be clearly seen in the fading light, but the backside was growing noticably darker as the whipping continued.

Lightning flashed. It looked close, but Rob waited in vain to hear the expected thunder. He supposed it was hot enough for heat lightning. The flashing continued sporadically as the strokes rained down on Mark's writhing backside and suddenly Rob realized that it was camera flashes. He could see that certain spectators were actually taking photographs of the whipping in progress! He sighed in disgust. The nerve of some people!

Rob had intended to count the strokes this time but with all the distractions he had lost count. Mark continued to yelp, gasp and sob as the switch continued its appointed rounds. Then suddenly the switch broke. Thomas tossed it lightly aside and picked up the second switch.

"Mark," said Thomas, "have you learned that running away never solves your problems?"

"Yes, sir," said Mark, gasping.

"Alright, then," said Thomas. "I'm gonna give you twelve more strokes with the second switch to teach you not run out into traffic, something that most boys half your age have learned."

Mark moaned slightly and increased his sobbing, but did not respond verbally. Then the new switch started slashing into the boy's already desperately sore rump and Mark began howling. Mark continued to writhe and he kicked twice during the final dozen strokes, but Sam was able to keep his friend's hands under control so he could not defend his aching posterior or try to get up before the switch had finished its grim work.

After the twelfth stroke Thomas tossed away the second switch and it was over. Rob, Casey, Kenny and Jeff moved to stand behind Mark and faced out towards the crowd, giving the boy as much privacy as possible as he sobbed himself out. Donald and Thomas did not interfere with this action. Meanwhile Sam rubbed Mark's back and whispered comforting words into his friend's ear as he lay there across the tailgate sobbing.

Now that the show was definitely over the various clusters of spectators piled into their cars and drove away. Rob thought it looked a bit like a movie theater parking lot after the main feature ended. After the rest of the cars pulled out Sergeant Hummel started up his cruiser and rolled over to the SVRR group. He said, "You folks enjoy the rest of your vacation here in Strasburg, and have a safe drive home."

Rob and some of the other boys mumbled their thanks, while Donald and Thomas walked over and thanked the sergeant again for all his help. After Sergeant Hummel pulled out on to Main Street and resumed his other duties, it was time to head back to the motel. Mark ended up riding back in the cargo deck with Sam while Rob and Casey piled in the rear bench seat with Kenny and Jeff.

As they pulled out of the Iron Horse Inn parking lot Rob was quite glad to see the last of the place. The food had actually been pretty good, but the after dinner entertainment left a lot to be desired.

Author Note: The original "Iron Horse Rambles" were a series of steam powered railroad excursions conducted by the Reading Railroad in the 1960s. The author and his father rode as passengers on at least one of those rambles. The author was too young to remember what year this happened, although the most likely years would be 1963 or 1964. The author would have been either 5 or 6 years old those summers.

Dedication: I spent many happy hours of my childhood engaged in railfan and model railroading activities with my father. This series is dedicated to the memory of my dad, who was a wonderful man and a great father.

The author welcomes comments from readers. You can contact Bobby Watson by e-mail at: mrbwatson (at) gmail.com
Please be patient - Bobby doesn't always check his e-mail every day.