A man sitting at the table alone. He just sits, staring at the drink. There is no expression in his eyes. He is a complete deadpan. He is an American of indeterminate age.

A huge black man, nearly 7 feet tall and 300 pounds, his massive head shiny and bald, his skin a tapestry of old scars, his prison overalls ending at mid-calf. He looks dull and confused, as if wondering where he is and how he got there.

There are but two passengers in the compartment sitting by the window, facing each other. In fact they are dozing. One wears a deerstalker and an Inverness cape; the other a dark overcoat and a black bowler, a furled umbrella between his legs, a medical bag on the seat beside him. The rest of their luggage is on the rack above. They are thirty-three and thirty-five respectively. This is 1887.