By noon a stranger arrived at the estate in a narrow carriage with yellow wheels.
He wore a plain coat and carried a leather case strapped with two buckles.
Silas Whitcomb met him on the front steps with an eagerness he rarely showed his guests.
Isaiah watched from the stable yard as the two men entered the house.
Curtis ordered everyone away from the front drive.
He then told Isaiah to bring a fresh barrel of water to the workshop.
Isaiah obeyed slowly enough to hear the stranger’s voice through an open window.
“I will not pay for a demonstration I cannot see.”
Silas answered with practiced confidence.
“You will see a machine that changes how every factory in the region cuts its parts.”
“I have heard that promise from men who owned nothing but drawings.”
“My machine is real.”
“Then why is your carpenter missing?”
The room went silent.
Isaiah felt the barrel rope burn his palm.
Silas’s reply came after several seconds.
“Mr. Fenwick returned north.”
“The man I spoke with yesterday said otherwise.”
Isaiah nearly dropped the barrel.
The stranger had spoken to someone who knew Thomas.
Curtis appeared at the corner of the building.
“Move,” he barked.
Isaiah rolled the barrel away.
The stranger emerged an hour later and crossed the yard alone.
He stopped beside the carpentry shed, where Gideon was stacking boards.
“What is your name?” he asked.
Gideon glanced toward the house.
“Gideon, sir.”
“Did you build the pieces inside?”
“I helped with some.”
“Can you tell me what they do?”
Gideon looked at his shoes.
“I can tell you how they were cut.”
The stranger studied him.
“Would you be willing to show me?”
Curtis appeared before Gideon could answer.
“The boy has work.”
“I asked a question.”
“And I answered it.”
The stranger’s expression cooled.
“Mr. Vale,
I am here to examine a machine, not your manners.”
Curtis stepped aside with obvious reluctance.
The stranger introduced himself as Nathaniel Price, an agent for a manufacturing partnership in Baltimore.
He asked Gideon to show him a finished wooden block.
Gideon lifted one from the bench.
Price inspected it without touching the carved groove.
“Who designed this?”
Gideon hesitated.
“Mr. Fenwick.”
Curtis seized the block.
“That name has no business here.”
Price looked from Curtis to Gideon.
“Then I have more questions than I expected.”
He returned to the house, but not before meeting Isaiah’s eyes.
Isaiah recognized the look of a man who had discovered a contradiction.
He did not yet know whether Price would expose it or profit from it.
