Tem had a hard time standing there, looking into one particular compartment. He'd have to work on his stakeout skills for the future. The scene he looked at was far from eventful, Jim Krane continued peering out of the window, outwardly unperturbed. Dale tried to talk to Jim from time to time, but he gave up quickly, as the replies appeared sparse.

To Tem time crawled by at a snail's pace. Where was Nathan? What took him so long? He started pacing a little back and forth, keeping to look into the compartment. As if anything extraordinary could happen there.

Dale got up, opened the door, and stepped outside into the corridor. He glared at Tem with open disdain. "What? You can't keep me from leaving. Have to go to the loo, Mr Detective," said Dale with a derisive snort.

"Certainly. I won't stand in your way." Tem took a step out of Dale's way, making sure to leave both directions open. He was curious which way Dale would take. Towards the closer bathroom or in the direction of the storage wagon? He tried to show no reaction when Dale determinedly went towards the farther back bathroom. He watched the back of the boy with an obvious dilemma in mind.

Unable to go after him and make sure he wouldn't do anything to save Jim, as leaving sight of Jim was not an option. Where was Nathan? He should've been back by now. Right about now would be the perfect time to get back. He looked back and forth between the receding boy and the other direction with the hope of Nathan appearing.

The moment Dale went around the corner, Nathan came sprinting down the corridor.

"Sorry, Tem. Esmae and her, uh, gang were still sticking close to our compartment and delayed me. Such a swell start to a new school year... We haven't... what is it?" asked Nathan, still panting from his run, as he realised Tem tried to interrupt him.

"Dale went out towards the storage wagon. He said he had to go to the bathroom, but I couldn't follow. Quick, go after him!" said Tem as quickly as possible.

"Oh, right. What about some food?"

"Not important," said Tem, but looked fervently at the backpack Nathan was holding. "Er, give me some, quick, move."

Nathan grabbed into the backpack, pulled out his hand with a random assortment of sweets, shoved them into Tems outstretched hands, and darted away. Some sweets tumbled to the floor, but Tem didn't mind. He looked after the sprinting boy, nodding appreciatively.

After checking that Jim had not moved at all, he bent over and collected the sweets from the floor. Unsure if he should've gone after Dale. At this point, he had the sinking feeling Jim would stay unremarkable for the remainder of the trip. It was just too peculiar. But who knows? Maybe he was an evil mastermind with various agents on the train to do his bidding, which allowed him to stay this calm and appear innocently?

Jim probably laughed internally about him, who had to stand around instead of enjoying the train ride. Or was he innocent and had nothing to fear? Tem dropped a sweet bean into his mouth, putting the wrapper in his pocket without remembering he had unwrapped it. No, he should believe in himself. He went through the evidence multiple times. While perhaps not perfectly cohesive, it was still the most likely happenstance. He was certain of that.

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While he stood there, absentmindedly enjoying his sweets, sounds pierced his reverie. At first, he was unsure if the train simply got louder. It appeared, there was quite the commotion in the next wagon. What was happening there? Did Nathan have a run-in with Dale? Maybe he had to stop him from trying to enter the storage wagon? He wouldn't be able to hear that, would he? That was too far away.

He looked anxiously towards Jim. No change there. Could he risk leaving his spot? The decision was taken away from him a second later, breaking his cycle of indecision. Nathan came around the corner and waved at him. "Hey, Tem. Come to the other wagon. There has been another theft. It couldn't have been Jim, or Dale for that matter."

Tem's first reaction was close to no reaction. How could that be? He had been so certain further thefts were impossible. He stood there, frozen. Had he been that wrong? He was not accustomed to this feeling. Nathan shouted again, but what, he couldn't honestly say. At least he registered he stopped breathing for some time.

He shook himself out of the shock. Unable to accept everything that rushed through his mind, but he had to figure out what happened. With one last fleeting look at Jim, he walked down the corridor, willing his feet towards the acceptance of his failure.

As he arrived next to Nathan, his shoulders drooped, he asked with a bitter voice, "What happened?"

"There is another first year. He just realised his stuff was stolen. He wanted to show the others his trophy and medals, but they were missing from his bag," explained Nathan, with no hint of remorse in his voice.

"Trophy? Medals? What?" Tem looked confused.

"Yeah, it seems he is some big shot player in a regional football league, and apparently so proud of that he brought along his collection. Or at least he thought he had." Nathan shrugged. "Dale went into the bathroom and I positioned myself in the corridor when I heard the commotion nearby. The boys tore away the interior in search, so I checked. They're probably still at it. Come on!"

"Lead the way," said Tem, with little eagerness.

While they went, Nathan added, "I'm sorry, Tem. It might mean you... er, we were wrong. But, maybe it's a good thing. We can continue investigating. New leads, clues, and whatnot." Nathan smiled encouragingly at Tem, but his smile faltered a little when he saw Tem's stony face.

He had been wrong. There was no way around that. He needed to accept that and move on. Somehow it felt difficult. He took a deep breath. "Yes, you're right. Thank you," said Tem with a monotone voice.

Nathan was indeed correct. He needed a bit of time for it to sink in.

They arrived at the compartment. Dale was standing next to it, arms crossed in front, leaning at the wall, and grinning at the scene. Various other spectating students were assembled as well. Inside, there was still a lot of commotion. All occupants were going through all their bags, agitatedly discussing the situation, crawling, and looking underneath the seats.

Tem couldn't keep himself from looking Dale in the face, who rewarded him with a triumphant glare. He took another deep breath and stepped into the compartment.

With as much authority and conviction as he could muster, he said, "What happened here? I'm Temsivar Greengrass and I've been investigating the other thefts that occurred during this train ride."

The group of first-year students looked at him in surprise but stopped their frantic search. A tall boy—older, showing prominent signs of athleticism— turned towards him. He was holding an empty bag, which he had repeatedly shaken in an attempt to pull out nonexistent items. He wore jeans and a colourful jersey, probably of the team he was playing in. His brown hair was ruffled as if he had pulled at it in dismay for the last couple of minutes, his freckled face purple with agitation.

"They are all gone! My trophy, my medals. Every one of them. I don't understand," cried the football player in agony. "Who would do that? They are mine. I mean, my name is written on them."

"That is indeed very peculiar, Mr...?" said Tem.

"Brian Holl. On every one of them," replied the boy with a confused look on his face.

"Alright, Mr Holl. Could you please explain how you realised your belongings were missing? It'd be best if you could start a bit earlier leading up to the revelation," said Tem, back to his investigative self.