But Rheneas was quickly disappointed; the weather was still too foul to venture out in by the time dawn arrived; and so, none of the engines could leave the Depot. Hours quickly passed into days; days passed into a week.

"Botheration!" Exclaimed Sir Handel crossly, scowling at the still-falling snowflakes outside the sheds. "We've been stuck in here for days!"

"A week, even," Corrected Peter Sam, gloomily.

"Well, think of Owen and Merrick- they're stuck there no matter what they do!" Rheneas snapped in response, whilst he glowered at the blue engine in a rare fit of transgressed humour. "At least we shed.

"Oh, please don't argue!" Peter Sam pleaded desperately. "We'll be stuck here for at least another couple of days- we should try to get along!" He regretted speaking now- he really did feel terrible for their friends who were stuck without a shed.

"Shut up, Peter Sam!" Sir Handel shouted.

Rusty, Skarloey, Duncan and Duke were fed up of the arguing that was unfolding in the sheds. Ever since Mr Percival had announced they were snowed in and would be stuck for a few days, Sir Handel had been a right pain in the bunker- not even Peter Sam or Duke could quieten him down for long. He would argue with the others about the most trivial of things- and both Duncan and Rheneas had somehow been affected by the 'cabin fever' and wouldn't stop shouting at each other- or Sir Handel.

But the others tried to be mature by keeping out of arguments- Peter Sam even tried to act as a peacekeeper between the engines, but it just resulted in the aforementioned engines to not only continue squabbling, but they would also shout insults at Peter Sam. This made Skarloey cross, but he never got far in trying to keep the others under control by himself, so he and Rusty, as well as Duke, had more than once had to wade in to rescue their green compatriot from a torrent of insults and put an end to the argument – at least for a temporary brief amount of time.

Duncan, on the other hand, whenever he wasn't arguing with Rheneas or Sir Handel, refused to get involved in their arguments- in other words; he was too lazy to intervene. Again, Skarloey was irritated by the Scottish engine's sloth but for Peter Sam's sake he tried to keep his own nerves together.

"Skarloey - do you think we'll ever get of here?" Peter Sam asked miserably.

The leader looked at the little green engine who was sitting on one side of the shed, looking as though he would start crying any moment, and the old engine felt sorry for him- after all, Sir Handel had been unkind to everybody- the Kerr Stuart in particular- and Rheneas had been too claustrophobic and therefore snappy, to act as a voice of reason; so Skalroey felt forced to bottle up his anger for the sake of universal sanity… or as much as they could get of this sacred resource, anyway.

"We will get out, Peter Sam- please don't worry." Skarloey said warmly, his thick Welsh accent full of kindness and reassurance. "It's just a matter of time- but you'll just have to ignore Sir Handel and Duncan- and Rheneas too, if he speaks to you like that as well."

Peter Sam sniffed.

"You okay?"

But instead of answering, Peter Sam just plastered on a brave smile, feeling bolstered by his friend's faith and good hearted words.

It was hard for the engines to talk about Luke with Duke in the sheds. They were fond of the old engine- Peter Sam and Sir Handel in particular, due to a shared past- but they were aware of Duke's ways, and they felt that if they told him about Luke, he would not like the idea of hiding the little engine in the mountains and may spill something about it.

They were upset they couldn't tell Duke about their little mountain bound friend though. Peter Sam had been particularly confident that the two engines would have gotten along together marvellously.

"It's just that, well, I do wish we could see Luke again. It's been so long"-

"Fit are ye whispering aboot noo?" Duncan grumbled from behind Rheneas, who on Skarloey's other side from Peter Sam. "Skarloey, ye hae a bad habit o' conversing wi' other engines in shed corners!" He continued.

"Oh, you know, just the usual." Skarloey replied loftily.

"There's nothin' usual goin on roond here! Do ye think I'm daft, man?"

"No, I'm not- of course I wouldn't think that!"

Peter Sam watched the conversation with a looming dread.

...

"Luke, are you sure you should be out in this weather?" Owen asked, as he watched the little engine potter about below him with an old snowplough.

"I'm fine, Owen!" But Luke kept coughing throughout, and he didn't move as quickly or as spritely as he would normally do- which worried the incline engine greatly. He had come to care greatly for the little green engine over the time he had been here- sure, in all the time Owen had known the narrow gauge engines, he did care about them all as his 'little friends'- but Luke just always seemed to be there. Owen genuinely enjoyed watching the sweet Irish tank engine pottering about below with empty trucks and ones full of gelignite for rock blasting, as he just seemed to do it with a more cheerful enthusiasm than when Owen saw him in the tunnels or at nights here.

Luke continued on cutting through the snow, but his ill health and the increasing snowfall made Geoffrey's mind up. "I'm sorry, Luke- but I can't in good conscience have you working in this weather. We'll have to get you into shelter and wait until things warm up again." He said gently.

So, Geoffrey and Richard reversed Luke into the tunnel he usually slept in and made sure he was comfortable in the tunnel.

"How's Smudger holding out?" Luke asked anxiously.

"Well, he's fine." Richard replied. "Though we should really get him to the Steamworks soon. And while we're at it"-

"No thank you, Mr. Wilson, but I'm not moving." The little green engine stated bluntly, and he settled down to sleep, unaware of the danger he would be in later that evening.