6:00 a.m., Monday, September 16th, 1940
Skarloey and Rheneas knew that the engines had to act quickly to spare themselves of humiliation and the soul-crushing vice of bullying…not to mention the fear of being scrapped, replaced by Hugo's own kind. In lighter news, the RAF had triumphed in one of the biggest air battles of the year, bringing down 175 Nazi planes with the much needed assistance of AA guns. This type of news would not bode well for Hugo and his driver. Skarloey told Edward who had come to visit them, while Rheneas took the slate train to the quarry. Edward, heading back to the sheds, told Percy, who went to the branch line.
Thomas and Christopher were listening to the news of President Roosevelt's Selective Training and Service Act when the little green engine told them about Hugo.
"You might as well get Christopher back to his family now incase Hugo decides to get rid of us."
"Me?" asked Thomas doubtfully. "I couldn't possibly take Christopher back without somebody to look after the branch line. Even if I am gone for an entire day."
"I could look after it for you," Percy suggested. "Even if it means that Gordon, Henry and James will have to shunt their own coaches along with No. 8000 until you get back."
"And if you get tired," added Thomas. "Bertie can help you with the passengers."
They went to see the Fat Director about Christopher's father, who was walking out of his office at Tidmouth Station after a conference meeting with the War Department.
"Sir," Thomas said formally. "I was wondering that if worse comes to worse. You should let me take Christopher back to his father on the mainland."
"That is hardly an important task," said the Fat Director sternly. "What about your branch line? What about your passengers? What about your goods? What about collecting the milk?"
"I know, sir. But Hugo is planning to get rid of us! I hear he's got 98462 and 87546 to do his bidding."
"Looking after your branch line is an important job, Thomas. Personal ones are the least of my concerns. Now if you will excuse me, I have some important tasks of my own. With Eagle permanently out of action and those two blue engines at the works, who can I get to take the gunpowder to Vicarstown?"
"Well, it was worth a try," said Christopher as soon as the Fat Director left.
Now they were both thinking that something had to be done, but none of them would find the answer until evening came.
Meanwhile, in response to the attack, the War Department sent out military conscriptions to almost every eligible man on the island, including the surviving members of the Sodor Regiment, to fight back against the Germans. Gordon was at Wellsworth with Edward when 98462 and 87546, now fully repaired came to them. 98462 showed Edward a long and heavy train of gunpowder.
"I'll bet you cannot pull ten trucks such as these!" teased 98462.
"And I can go faster than you!" taunted 87546 to Gordon.
The reply from both engines were: "We will see about that!"
Gordon started first and with him out of the way, Edward took the gunpowder train all the way to Vicarstown. Slow and heavy as it was, he climbed the hill and came rushing down at a pace he could not control until reaching Crovan's Gate, keeping himself from derailing until his driver regained control.
Then it was James and Henry's turn at Tidmouth Harbour. 87546 went to collect a train of rations from a cargo ship when he slowly skulked up to Henry and seethed.
"I hear your boiler is about to expire."
"So what if it does," said Henry unfazed. "It will be a long time before then."
When 98462 approached James, his reply was one of scorn.
"Eagle would be ashamed to see you all in black, you know how much the both of you were sensitive to your paintwork being tainted."
James would have produced tears, but they were tears of anger.
"It's what he would have wanted per War Department guidelines! I'll get my red paint back."
"Your red paint is now history, old black wheels."
All James could do was blow a cloud of white steam at the wicked blue engine, not knowing what had come into him. He took the smokescreen as an opportunity to disappear into thin air. 98462, thinking that he successfully done the job, collected a train of ices and headed off for the main line.
That night in the sheds, the engines were cross about 98462 and 87546's recently acquired behavior of bullying. Edward, exhausted from pulling the heavy gunpowder all the way to the end of the line, had little to say. Percy, having spent much of his time helping Thomas on the branch line was unaware of what had happened with the big engines until he returned.
"Did I miss anything besides not arraigning your trains?" he asked them.
"87546 told me he was faster than I!" hissed Gordon.
"Disrespected brother Eagle and called me old black wheels!" put in James.
"They say my boiler will expire!" moaned Henry.
"What got into them?" wondered Percy.
"How should we know?" said Gordon. "All they have been doing as of today was making fun of us."
"I blame it on Hugo," Percy added. "We haven't seen much of him since the attack. Maybe he isn't much of a defect as we had thought. I plan on telling the Fat Director about this."
"Who would he believe?" mused Henry. "An experimental German engine or a little green tank engine whose funnel is full of wild ideas?"
"Wait until tomorrow," yawned James. "Gordon has to take the troops to the mainland."
Back at Ffarquhar, Christopher was getting himself ready to sleep in Thomas' shed when he began to speak his thoughts out loud.
"The only way I can get to York, is by train. It is very far to walk after all."
He sat up.
"Thomas, everyone else says that you are a really useful engine. Could you take me back? I'll send the Fat Director a letter of absence if I have to."
"I'll try," said Thomas, trying to be brave. "But it might be dangerous jouncing over miles of open country. I could get lost."
"There's always a way," said Christopher and he went happily to sleep.
Thomas needed a good reason to leave the island. An idea flew into his funnel immediately, an idea that would require getting up very early in the morning.
