The day was July 31st, 1963.
Oliver the Great Western Engine was resting outside the station platform.
Riddles was leaving with a passenger train, and Amy was about to start shunting. Andy and Jeremy were somewhere else, so the station had begun to quiet down. But Oliver didn't mind; he was feeling very pleased with himself.
Having taken his auto train back from 'Boxy', the new diesel, Oliver was more convinced of his own survival on the branchline than ever before – especially now, as he basked in the glowing warmth of the late morning sun.
'Of course,' He knew, 'I wouldn't've gotten it back if it weren't for him . . .'
Oliver sighed, well-content.
'See you around, Jinty.' He thought peacefully.
It was no secret to anyone on their branchline that the little, missing tank engine had been a huge help to him. Oliver didn't like remembering how disappointed he'd been at first, but with Jinty's advice, he was sure he'd never feel so defeated ever again.
Jinty was in a siding, waiting for the signal to change; the Manager had asked him to take a short freight train to the harbour. Now his crew were building up steam, ready for the journey down.
They weren't timed to leave until after the Morning Passenger's first trip, and since the diesel was out searching for the coaches, Jinty had a feeling he wouldn't be waiting much longer. All the same, the train hadn't arrived yet, so Jinty waited.
Eventually, he decided to pass the time by singing.
"Oh~, I'm the sorta train, who~ likes to roll around~." He chimed, "I'm never in one place, and I steam from town to town~."
Then he began absently scatting.
"Ba-doo-doot-doo-doot-doo-doot-doo-doot-doo-doo-doot-doo~, ba-doo-ba-doo-ba, ba-doo-bee-doo-bee-da-doo~. Oh I'm the wanderer~! I'm the wanderer-"
Suddenly, a shrill whistle cut through the air, and Jinty glanced back at the station just in time to see Oliver pulling his auto-train easily to the platform.
'I might've known it.' He thought.
"Morning then!" Smiled Jinty.
"Hullo Jinty!" Chirped Oliver.
"The Great Train Robbery go well for you?" Jinty's smile quickly became a cheeky grin, "Tell you what, best keep out of Manager's way. He's not too happy with y-"
"OLIVER!" The Manager was standing on the platform, and he looked very cross.
"Morning Sir!" Whistled Oliver.
"Don't you dare act like you don't know what you did." Manager said sternly, "Stealing the railway's coaches? Just to go gallivanting off with them!?"
"Uhhm, Sir?" Ventured Jinty.
"What?" Asked the Manager irritably.
"What time does the first train normally arrive here?" Jinty asked carefully.
The Manager calmed down somewhat, and briefly pondered.
"Well," He answered, "With the diesel, it doesn't usually arrive until at least ten minutes from now. Why do you ask?"
"A-hem." Came a grunt.
Both Jinty and The Manager looked over. Oliver was still waiting there, a smug grin reaching from buffer to buffer. The Manager was stunned for a moment.
"W-Well, I say-" He started, "Bah- No, that's-! That's not possible, I-"
The Manager cleared his throat and began again.
"Oh dear." He said simply, "It seems- uh, I may owe you a bit of an apology there, Oliver. Um, uhh . . ."
"Yes?" Oliver asked expectantly.
The Manager sighed.
"It looks like I'm gonna have to make a few changes to the roster." He finished, "You're back on the passenger run now. Well done, Oliver."
With that, he turned, and walked briskly away – that morning was sure to be a busy one for him.
Oliver, Jinty, and Toad were thrilled.
"Alright!" Cheered Jinty, "Nice work, Oliver!"
"Oh, we knew you could do it, Mister Oliver!" Toad called out, "We never doubted you for a second, Sir."
"Yeah, well not bad yourself." Oliver smiled weakly, "Thanks Jinty . . . I owe you one."
"Nah, don't mention it." Smirked Jinty, "After all, I wasn't the one who pulled the train."
Just then, the signal dropped, and the Guard blew his whistle.
"Just promise me something?" Jinty wheeshed and began to leave, "Don't slip up."
Oliver just kept smiling at Jinty as he strolled away; Toad continued to smile at Oliver as they left.
Oliver sighed contentedly as he continued to doze.
'It was only a few days ago.' He thought, 'But I wish I'd got to say goodbye . . .'
Oliver raised an eyebrow and lazily opened one eye; he wasn't due to leave for another few minutes and he started worrying about being late. But taking a breath, Oliver calmed himself. He remembered what happened the day before the new diesel arrived and that he didn't control the signals. He simply went back to resting.
"Where is that old Box-face?" He wondered quietly.
Oliver let of steam and closed his eyes.
'It's really strange, though . . .' He continued, 'If it hadn't been for him, I'd still be stuck at the back of the shed, and all he did was-'
Just then, Oliver heard a familiar honking noise. He opened both eyes and watched as the diesel arrived back on the line between him and his coaches.
'Boxy . . .' Oliver flared his nostrils as the diesel slowed down.
He was proud to have bested this so-called 'improvement', and he was keen to see The Manager about sending it back to Swindon.
The diesel was pulling a short, slow goods train, mostly box vans and a few tankers; not even long enough to block his coaches from view.
At the end of the train, Oliver saw something he hadn't expected. A familiar Western brake van.
'Wait-' He blinked, 'I know that brake van . . .'
Oliver blinked again and gaped.
"Toad?!" He was surprised, "Whu- bu- . . . how did you get here? What happened?!"
Toad didn't reply, he didn't even meet Oliver's gaze.
He looked sad. Or was it disturbed? Or tired?
Oliver wasn't quite sure. Peering closer, he noticed a glaring dark spot over his left eye.
'Was that there before?' Oliver tried to remember.
He had so many questions.
The rest of Toad's face was covered with dust, a few scratches marred his cheek, and one eye seemed more open than the other.
Oliver didn't understand why at first; then it hit him.
'It's his eyelid!' He realized, 'He can't open his eye all the way . . . but why . . .?'
Oliver furrowed his brow, drawing his lips into a tight line, and gave Toad another once over. He was covered from end to end in dust and dirt, and the dark spot over his eye seemed to bulge out, a bit like a lump.
'No, not a lump . . .' Oliver thought worriedly, 'More like a bump! Or a bruise- . . .'
A memory quickly flashed in Oliver's mind. The time his driver accidentally bumped his forehead against the Station Shop door; he had a large welt over his brow for weeks, but it swelled when it happened and had quickly turned red since he bumped it so hard.
'But how did this happen?' He wanted to know, 'And who could've done this?'
All the while, the Diesel's growling engine filled the air, getting louder and louder even though it had stopped moving. Oliver was beginning to see red. The growling disturbed him, and he couldn't stay focused.
Oliver's gaze flitted between Toad and the Diesel; something didn't seem right at all. He shut his gaping mouth and addressed the brake van again, trying to hide his fear and hoping he had.
"Toad?" Oliver asked evenly, "Where is Jinty?"
Still, no reply.
Oliver was about to ask something else when his thoughts were once again interrupted by the diesel's blaring, loud horn; Toad flinched as the diesel purred and cruised them away from the platform. Oliver eyed the mute diesel, curiously.
Just then, his driver clambered back into his cab; checking the time again, Oliver saw it was time for him to leave. He strolled out of the siding and backed down on his coaches. Isabel – who was in front – could tell Oliver was worried.
"Oliver?" She asked, "Whatever is the matter?"
Oliver didn't answer at once.
". . . It's nothing Izzie." He promised, "Just thinking is all . . ."
As they left the station throat, Oliver glanced at Toad one last time before looking over at the new diesel and fixing it with a dirty look.
'I know you've got something to do with this.' He thought bitterly, 'And I'm going to find out what . . .'
Toad stayed oddly silent for several hours. He spoke to none of the other engines as they went to and fro around the yard; in fact, he didn't seem to notice any of them. This worried Oliver a great deal – who had since spent the rest of his day, when coming back from the afternoon run, trying to piece together what had happened.
"Toad's usually not like this." He confided to Amy, "I worked with him for a day, he's total chatterbox when you speak to him. And Jinty's not come back with him either. He said they've always been together, so why would he just leave him behind? Something's not right here."
Amy tried to be optimistic.
"I'm sure Jinty's fine, Oliver." She said, "I should doubt if he just let Toad go like that. He ought to be along to find his brakevan soon."
"But it doesn't explain where he went Amy." Oliver puffed anxiously, "Surely, he'd've been along here ages ago, right? And where could he've gone anyway? At least from here, that is!"
"Jinty might not know Toad is with us right now." Amy pointed out, "And besides, if Jinty is gone far enough, he might not be back for, at least, a few days."
Oliver gave in then, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong.
"Where d'you think Toad's bruises came from?" He asked, after a moment.
Amy considered.
"Hmm . . . to be honest, I'm not quite sure if they are bruises . . ." She remarked, "But maybe Jinty had an accident? The mainline can be bumpy, after all. Perhaps, Jinty came off-"
Just then, Jeremy trundled in.
"Are you two trying to figure out what happened to Jinty?" He asked.
"Yeah." Answered Oliver.
"Toad's not talking to us, so anything could've happened." Added Amy, "What do you think happened?"
Jeremy pondered.
"I think that depends when he left." Answered Jeremy, ". . . Do we know?"
"Uh, I'm guessing after we all went to sleep?" Suggested Oliver, "I'm sure I would've seen him leave."
"I remember seeing him around the platform before I dozed off last night." Agreed Amy.
"Around what time?" Asked Jeremy.
"Oh, couldn't've been later than midnight." Amy replied.
"None of us would've been up then," Noted Oliver, "I suppose he could've left around then."
Jeremy paused.
"Well, that gives us an idea." He remarked.
"Do you have any ideas?" Prodded Amy.
Jeremy sighed. He had a sinking feeling he knew what had happened. He remembered his trip to Swindon, seeing the new diesels, and meeting Will, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell them about it just yet.
"Can't say I do." He said at last, "But it clearly looks like Toad derailed somehow."
"But how?" Quizzed Oliver, "How could he've derailed? And how bad could it have been for him get all scratched up like that?"
"It beats me." Jeremy said quickly, "Jinty'd have to've derailed too . . . maybe a faulty set of points some few miles out from here?"
"Okay," Conceded Oliver, "But wouldn't we have heard about it by now? Control handles all train movements, so we should've heard something earlier, right?"
"Again, I think that depends." Jeremy let off steam, "If he derailed at a station, we might've been called to help."
"I think Pill is the nearest main station from here," Amy said thoughtfully, "and after that comes Ham Green Halt. But I've been running up and down the line for the last few days, it didn't feel like there was nothing wrong with their points."
"Yes," Agreed Oliver, "but that's also assuming if Jinty stopped there at all."
"Or even if he got that far." Mumbled Jeremy.
Thankfully, neither Amy nor Oliver seemed to hear him.
"Wouldn't one of us have seen him if he was still on our line?" Asked Amy.
Jeremy perked up.
"Good point." He said, "We might've seen him sooner or later today."
"So where could he be?!" Oliver asked for the umpteenth time, "It's nearly been a whole day!"
Amy tried to calm Oliver down again, but it wasn't as easy this time. Jeremy began feeling anxious, he still didn't want to tell them what he really thought, but all the same, he wasn't sure he could hold it back for much longer.
"Just be patient, Oliver." Counselled Amy, "I'm sure-"
"D'you know what?" Jeremy interrupted, "I don't think I'd expect Jinty to turn up any time soon."
The talking stopped at once. Both engines looked at Jeremy, partly stunned.
"What?" Oliver asked bluntly.
Jeremy froze. He hadn't realized until too late that he'd opened his mouth; at last, he gave up.
"What do you mean, Jeremy?" Ventured Amy, "Do you know what happened to Jinty?"
"Uhh . . . not as . . . such . . ." He explained carefully, "Just a feeling really . . ."
"Well, what do you feel then?" Oliver was dying to know.
"Well, again, it's just a feeling . . . a hunch really," Jeremy began, "But considering how Toad looks, I think they might've been attacked."
Amy and Oliver were shocked.
"Attacked?!" Amy was horrified.
"By what?" Oliver wanted to know.
". . . B-By a passing diesel, likely." Puffed Jeremy nervously, "They were everywhere at Swindon. I wouldn't be surprised if they found Jinty somewhere down and got him."
"Wh- bu- . . . uh- n-no, th-that can't be right . . ." Faltered Oliver, "The-There's no way."
"But there is." Argued Jeremy, "I was there, I know what I saw."
"And what exactly did you see at Swindon, Jeremy?" Amy wanted to know.
He plucked up courage; he couldn't forget what Will had said the last time they met.
"I saw Will while I was there." Jeremy finally told them, "But I don't think he's there now . . . well not anymore."
"Why not?" Asked Oliver.
Jeremy hesitated.
". . . They dragged him onto a siding after he'd burst his cylinder." He finally answered, "The big diesels were cornering him while I was leaving."
Once again, Amy and Oliver were silent.
"You want the truth?" He asked them, "Control says we're out of date. Haven't you noticed how few steam engines there are coming through here? It's because there's hardly any of us left."
Oliver looked like his heart had sunk. Amy had noticed and decided to spare his feelings.
"Stow it, Jeremy, you don't know that!" She exclaimed, "That's not-"
"You haven't been to Swindon lately, Amy!" Barked Jeremy, "I have, and it was awful! There were diesels everywhere! And how do you explain George taking over the Local Passenger?"
"Well alright Jeremy, but you can't just day things like that!" she argued, "it's not-"
"I trust what George said." Jeremy interrupted, "And you should too! Look at what almost happened to Oliver! Manager put the new diesel on trial for a day, and he was replaced!"
Oliver blinked. Jeremy was right, he had been replaced; true, it had only been for long, but it had still happened. Oliver thought Manager had punished him for being swanky – he had heard of it happening to other engines, but he never thought it would happen to him.
"Wel- uh-" Tried Oliver.
Jeremy and Amy were still arguing.
"I seriously doubt that, Amy." He said bluntly, "If Jinty was sent to work with us, then he wouldn't have just left for the mainline, and you saw how battered Toad was."
"Toad could've been hurt if Jinty came off-" Amy tried,
"I shouldn't think Jinty's the type of engine to 'just come off'." Puffed Jeremy, "He's too careful. You saw how he tackled the shunting at the Harbour, and I saw when he and Oliver almost crashed into your goods train."
"Jeremy, please-" Amy said firmly.
But Jeremy had more to say,
"Besides," He continued, "Even if Jinty'd had an accident, why would Toad come back? To ask for help, or send a message? I'd believe that, but he hasn't said a thing to anyone since he was shunted."
Amy wanted to speak, but Jeremy still wasn't finished.
"And what's more, we're not missing any trucks or coaches, so Jinty would've left with Toad only."
"Well alright then!" Amy exclaimed at last, "So only Toad came back, Control will send a message to tell us where Jinty's got to!"
"Do you mean to say that you think Jinty'd've just gone on without noticing Toad derailing right behind him?" Demanded Jeremy.
The two engines kept debating what might have happened, Oliver said no more, and quietly puffed away.
'Jeremy's right.' He thought, 'Jinty wouldn't have an accident like that. He pays attention to everything he can . . . unless . . .'
Oliver gazed out to where Toad was sat, mournful and forlorn; if Jeremy was right, Oliver wasn't certain if he wanted to know.
Later that night, the engines were parked in the sheds, uneasily falling asleep – Toad's sudden return was somewhat worrying to all of them; particularly to Riddles, who felt very sorry for the Western brake van.
He and Oliver kept their eyes open, hoping with every ounce of their remaining steam that Jinty was alright and would come back for Toad soon; the two had planned to stay up for the night, much to Andy and Jeremy's exasperation – who thought they would be better off sleeping and going out to search tomorrow – of course, the two engines didn't really care, and kept their eyes peeled.
Eventually however, Riddles started to feel sleepy.
"It's no good, Oliver." He yawned, "I can't keep my eyes open anymore."
Oliver reassured him.
"Ah, don't worry about it." He smiled sympathetically, "I don't mind. You get some sleep. I'll keep a look out for him."
As Riddles drifted off, Oliver tried to stay up; secretly, he was feeling drowsy too.
Before the engines came back to the sheds, Oliver had asked his driver to write some things down in an old book – he'd gotten it as a Christmas gift a few years ago, but he hadn't used it much since then – he stopped writing when the others arrived and left it in Oliver's cab.
Time passed. All in-coming and out-going signals were red, and there was no sign of any other steam engines pulling into the yard. At last, Oliver had calmed down somewhat, and was just about ready to give it up.
"Amy might be right . . ." He yawned, "Maybe Jinty is fine."
All the same, he couldn't stop thinking about Jeremy's outburst at the docks.
'But Jeremy made a good point,' He remembered, 'it would explain why Toad looks so beaten up . . . if that is what happened-'
Suddenly, Oliver heard a noise. One he still hadn't quite gotten used to for the last few days.
There came a great, growling, revving noise, followed by a mechanical whirring and whining – which, oddly enough, hadn't been loud enough to wake the other engines up – he looked over to the sheds by the coal bunker, and saw a familiar light shining out from the shed mouth.
"Hey now Box-face . . ." Oliver muttered scornfully, "Now what're you doing up so late . . .?"
The Diesel purred for a moment, then he cruised from his shed and headed out to the open line.
'Where exactly do you think you're going?' Oliver wondered, 'All signals are down at this time of night . . .'
The Diesel, oblivious to Oliver, simply strolled away, into the night.
Oliver followed.
He hoped there wouldn't be much to write about when he got back.
