"IT'S SAFER BY ROAD"
Duck and Oliver, the Great Western Engines, are a splendid pair. Together they run like clockwork the branch line that runs along the beautiful coastal beaches and towns of the island, to the busy bustling sea-port near the Small Railway. This unique little line has become known among all it's friends and fans as 'The Little Western Branch'. Duck and Oliver can't think of a better name!
The engines are always on time, and the passengers find it a pleasure to ride aboard their 'Great Western' trains. If one is ill, the other will stand in for him. Engines will come and go, but Duck and Oliver will always be a common sight on this beautiful little line.
Indeed, everything ran well for the two Great Western Engines, until the arrival of an unwanted visitor, a bus named Bulgy. He was rude to the engines, and even attempted to steal their passengers. But the sulky fellow soon meet a humourous end, and sits now as a hen-house in a field some-way along the line. The trouble seemed to have passed by swiftly, but little did Oliver and Duck know that more trouble was waiting just around the corner, only a few months later...
*
The sun shone brightly over the coastal beauty of the Island of Sodor. Oliver the Great Western Engine was making his way swiftly to the Small Railway depot with a special goods train. As usual, everything was running like clockwork. He had plenty of steam, and plenty of time to spare. The weather improved his mood, as he clattered past the field where Bulgy the bus (or should I say, Bulgy the hen-house) stood, dozing in the sunlight. Oliver chuckled to himself as he rumbled past.
"PEEP! PEEP!", he tooted loudly, "Wake up lazybones!".
The old bus was taken by such shock that his aged horn sounded - 'HONK! HONK!'. Chickens and hens, who had nestled comfortably on his bonnet were taken by equal alarm, and began fluttered about madly, squawking loudly and scattering feathers everywhere. The old bus gave Oliver a dark scowl as he puffed by.
"What a lark! What a lark!", Oliver chuckled as he rolled smoothly on. He enjoyed teasing Bulgy. He felt that it had severed the old bus right to have himself landed in his current state. He was still grinning to himself as he arrived at the top station. Duck was there also, waiting with his afternoon train.
"Anyone would think", said Oliver, "That Bulgy asked to become a hen- house!"
"You aren't still tormenting him are you?", asked Duck gravely, "The past is the past after all".
"Don't be such a spoil-sport Duck", grinned Oliver, "Our victory over Bulgy is symbolic victory over Monarchism" - he couldn't pronounce the right word. "Don't be you mean 'Modernization'?", chuckled Duck.
"That's it", said Oliver swiftly, "Us getting rid of Bulgy means victory for railways over roads. To think, he wanted to take our place".
"It's not all that bad", said Duck, "Look at Bertie. He's useful and efficient - And he is pro-railway", he added with an undertone.
"Bulgy was a different case", snapped Oliver, "But with him no longer a threat to us, we don't have to worry about giving up our passengers..."
And with that, he set off to deliver his important load. Once he had finished, he collected Isabel and Dulcie and set off back to the other end of the line where his own afternoon passengers were waiting. Along the way, he often passed the old bus station, where Bulgy used to live. He enjoyed the sight of seeing the old building, now tumble-down and unused, baring a broad sign outside which read 'For Sale'.
But today, things were different. Oliver slowly puffed by the old bus station with a satisfied grin. But instead of the usual empty sight, his eyes met something new, causing his heart to sink. A large banner had been strung up across the doorway to the little building reading 'West-Island Bus Company: Re-Opened For Business'. He was taken by such surprise that he let off a blast of steam as he passed.
"Horrors!", he cried, "What's all this?"
"I haven't a clue", commented the driver, staring back towards the bus station and scratching his head with equal confusion, "Maybe we will learn more about it from the Fat Controller. He should be at the station".
Oliver began to worry, and he purposely sped up on the final stretch towards the station. Isabel and Dulcie exchanged a worried chorus - "Oh dear! Oh dear! What could the matter be? What could the matter be?".
They were soon to find out, as they rolled into the station moments later. But even more surprises were to come. Oliver was certain that he had made perfect timing, but much to his confusion, the station was packed with his afternoon 'regulars'. They all stood waiting for him, chatting excitedly.
"What a comfortable ride", he over-heard one man say.
"It certainly was a pleasure to take the service", agreed a woman.
"What's all this about?", fumed Oliver, looking about the excited crowd anxiously, "Why are they all here so early?"
Indeed, his afternoon passengers usually came in Bertie five minutes after he arrived. But Bertie was nowhere to be seen. At last, his driver spoke. His voice had a concerned note - "I think that is the answer to our puzzle".
And sure enough it was. Sir Topham Hatt was not on the platform, but standing in the station car-park, talking to a pair of men, who both wore identical uniforms and caps. Behind them, his paint shining a baneful red and his smirk broad enough to crack his bonnet, stood a large double-decker bus. He was looking extremely pleased with himself, and as Oliver examined him further, he couldn't help but feel that he had seen that smirk somewhere before. He began to simmer loudly as Sir Topham Hatt approached the platform and spoke him.
"I am proud to introduce you Oliver", he said with a smile, "To the West Island Bus Company and their very own bus, No. 294. They have agreed to assist us with the up-coming Summer 'peak' period. It'll be a lot of work for you and Duck to manage alone".
Oliver eyed the bus cautiously as his crew stepped down onto the platform to meet the acquaintance of the bus driver and conductor, and from the looks of it, there was certainly fiction between the two groups as they shook firm hands. The bus glanced over at Oliver and whispered, his voice low enough so as not to attract the attention of anyone nearby, Sir Topham Hatt in particular.
"So", he muttered, with a smile, "You must be Oliver. Yes. I was told a lot about you"
"Well I...", Oliver began.
But he found that he could not complete his sentence, as a memory returned from several months earlier. The day Bulgy had stolen Duck's passengers, Oliver had seen not one, but two large double-decker buses, standing side- by-side. One of them had been Bulgy, the other just as large, red and rude. It was this fellow who had taken Bulgy's passengers, leaving Bulgy to steal Duck's. Oliver gasped as it all began to make sense.
"So it's you", he muttered from behind gritted teeth, "Your the one who caused the whole predicament".
"How could I stand to see a fellow bus loose vital passengers to railway engines?", replied the bus, "Besides, it would be unsafe for them to travel in such dangerous things"
"Dangerous?", spluttered Oliver, wheeshing loudly from his pistons in sudden anger, "I'll have you know..."
"That you haven't had an accident in years?", asked the bus sarcastically, "Well then", he continued with a light chuckle, "Would you call, say, falling into the turn-table well an accident? Or was that just as rumour"
Oliver fell silent, but the water in his tanks began to boil with burning fury. His accident with the turn-table well had marked an embarrassing beginning to his life on Sodor, especially with the trucks. But he never imagined that it would reach the ears of outsiders. Before he could reply, the bus continued to speak. "Bulgy was put to disgrace at the hands of you railway engines", he muttered, "But that won't happen now that I'm on the road. I'll prove once and for all that it's safer by road. You'll be preserved as museum pieces in no time at all!"
"Nonsense", snorted Oliver, finally finding his voice, "You'll be turned into a hen-house before you can even say 'Free The Roads'"
The bus growled with fury as the guard finally blew his whistle and Oliver steamed away, grinning cheekily. The bus watched him with a dark scowl until he was out of sight and away on his journey. But all the while, Oliver couldn't help but think about what the bus had said.
*
"Funny that", chuckled Duck, "Only just this morning were you going on about how our victory over Bulgy had been a victory against 'Monarchism'".
Oliver wasted no time in informing Duck of what had happened that afternoon as they stood in their shed that evening. He had gone about his work all day, thinking about his meeting with the arrogant bus. It had now reached a point where he could no longer hold back his anger, and his concern, for much longer.
"Don't joke Duck!", whispered Oliver, "He had the cheek to call us dangerous!".
"Dangerous you say?", asked Duck's driver, who had been talking with Oliver's driver as they prepared to bid their two engines goodnight, "Well then, we'll soon do something about that!".
"A lumbering brute like that has some nerve to say such things about engines of the Fat Controller's Railway", added Oliver's driver, "The day that Sodor gives way the roads is the day that the sky falls!".
Oliver looked skyward anxiously. His driver chuckled - "It's only an expression". Oliver felt much better after that. An hour or so later, the two engines and their drivers were still discussing ways in which they hoped to get back at the baneful bus, but they had no luck.
"We'll sleep on it", said Duck's driver, "In the meantime, don't let it get to you".
The engines agreed, but found themselves awake, further into the night, still deep in plotting conversation.
*
Duck always left early in the morning with the first train of the day, departing from the main station on the Little Western Branch, enroute for Knapford. It took all the village folk to work, and it was vital that he arrived on time. But Duck the Great Western Engine is never late for any occasion.
His fire was burning nicely and he had plenty of water as he rolled into the station with Alice and Mirabel. Passengers often came on foot, and Duck would always be there to greet them when they arrived. But as he came to a stop, he noticed the large, red brute standing in the station courtyard, smirking his familiar smile.
"So that's the old fellow", he chuckled to his driver, "No wonder Oliver's frightened. Why, together, he and Bulgy could pass as twins".
The bus looked up as Duck let off steam - "Ah", he said, "So your the other one that runs this branch".
"How observant", replied Duck bluntly. He wasn't scared of buses, especially this one, "And why have you decided to park yourself here?"
"To save your passengers from danger", the bus swiftly replied. He eyed Alice and Mirabel - "The thought of allowing them to ravel in such dangerous, unsafe transport makes my axles groan in mourning".
Alice and Mirabel were most offended - "Oooo", they quivered, "What a brute! What a brute!". But Duck hushed them - "Don't worry", he whispered, "Our friends think otherwise". This made the two coaches feel much happier.
At that moment, the morning crowd arrived in the courtyard, enjoying the morning sunshine, when they were suddenly met with a difficult choice. Road or Rail? Some of them turned to each other, hoping to find an answer. Duck, the coaches and the crew all held their breath - "No doubt that baneful brute will try and steal our passengers from us again", muttered the fireman.
"Just give it a moment", whispered the driver, "Most of our passengers are our friends. They would never give up Duck for a bus".
And he was right. Most of the passengers had known Duck since the opening of the Little Western Branch and they wasted no time in climbing aboard Alice and Mirabel, who sang with rejoice as they slowly began to fill. But, others pondered long and hard before climbing aboard the bus. The conductor and driver exchanged satisfied grins, as the bus himself began to purr maliciously. Before long, Duck's train was only half full. The rest of his passengers had climbed aboard the bus.
"Next time", the bus joked, as his engine roared to life, "I might may need to take two trips!", and he spluttered away out of the courtyard and off down the road.
Duck watched him - "Now what'll we do?", he asked his crew. But it seemed that they had decided long before.
"We'll race him!", they said together, "We'll show him just how safe we can be, and get their in record time".
The passengers, and the two coaches, had no objections. Duck was anxious, but he was willing to try anything to out-beat the arrogant bus. In no time at all, the guard blew his whistle loudly, and with a flap of his green flag, Duck pulled out of the station with several big puffs of thick smoke. And with his passengers cheering and his coaches singing, he was on his way down the line with his fire roaring and his pistons pushing steadily.
"Come on boy!", called his driver, "Your doing nicely!"
"We'll show em'! We'll show em'!", Duck chanted, as he continued to coast down the line, gathering speed. The road ran near to the railway at several points down the line. At times, they would be separated by thick trees and forests. They reached a stretch of line that ran parallel with the road before turning off into a tunnel. Sure enough, the bus was speeding hastily along. Duck drew up alongside.
"So it's a race that you'll be wanting", the bus hooted loudly, "In that case, I except!"
"Anything to prove you wrong", chuckled Duck, and with ease, he steamed on ahead, over-taking the bus and disappearing into the tunnel, his smoke blinding the bus.
"The cheek of it!", he spluttered, "The cheek!"
"Don't give up already fella", encouraged his driver, "We'll do this one for Bulgy!"
And with a roar of his engine and a loud blast of his horn, the bus sped on, up and over the bridge. The passengers inside clung to their luggage and stared out of the window in confusion, startled by the sudden increase in speed. Before long, they were passing near to the railway line once again, separated by a river. Duck was making excellent timing and was still ahead. The bus gave a loud blast of his horn - "It's Safer By Road!", he sang rudely, as his driver madly pushed down the peddle, increasing speed further. Within seconds, he had over-taken the train and disappeared behind a cluster of forestry.
"I don't think I can go much faster!", Duck called, "It would be far too dangerous!"
"That's sensible thinking", called his fireman, "Even though it would be nice to show that brute what we're really made of, safety does come first".
And with that, Duck's driver slowly brought him back to his usual steady pace. The passengers groaned and sat back in their seats. Alice and Mirabel grumbled - "Should have taken the chance! Should have taken the chance!", but Duck knew that he couldn't afford to take any risks, especially racing with a bus.
But their lose was short-lived. No sooner had Duck steamed past the village, a red flat appeared on the station-platform up ahead. Duck was confused as his driver slowly brought him to a stop - "We don't usually stop here on the morning run", he said thoughtfully, "There must be an emergency".
Sure enough, as he left off steam, he was surprised to find the station crowded with passengers. Within moments, he realized that they were the passengers they had lost to the bus, but what were they doing here? He over- heard them grumbling loudly. "Dangerous driving!", a man complained loudly.
"Such a jeopardous thing should be taken off the roads at once", added a woman in agreement.
The station-master approached anxiously and spoke to Duck and his crew- "We've run into a spot of trouble", he explained, "Do you think you could take these passengers on to Knapford?"
"Whatever for?", asked Duck. But he soon found out why. Sure enough, standing on the roadside near the station building, his face fuming redder then his paint, stood the baneful bus. He was grumbling loudly and scowling. A police-car was parked behind him as his driver and conductor stood nearby, looking very ashamed of themselves as a police-man loomed over them, writing furiously in his notebook.
"Speeding way over the limit", said a second policeman who was trying to keep the crowd calm on the platform, "In a public area too! A regular law- breaker!"
"So", chuckled Duck with a broad smile, "It's safer by road is it?"
The bus pulled a dark scowl at him and continued to sulk loudly, his motor moaning and his crew red in the face with embarrassment. But there were more important issues at hand. Duck saw the anger on the faces of the passengers, and knew what he had to do - "Don't worry", he told them, "I'll get you there with minutes to spare".
The passengers were delighted. The apologized to Duck for not boarding his train - "That was one of silliest mistakes we've ever made", they said, "How could we doubt you Duck?".
"Passengers and safety", smiled Duck proudly, "Always come first on The Little Western Branch".
And in no time at all, the doors were banged, and the guard blew his whistle loudly. With one final toot of his whistle, Duck pulled out of the station with the passengers cheering, the coaches singing, and the bus growling in fury.
*****
Duck and Oliver, the Great Western Engines, are a splendid pair. Together they run like clockwork the branch line that runs along the beautiful coastal beaches and towns of the island, to the busy bustling sea-port near the Small Railway. This unique little line has become known among all it's friends and fans as 'The Little Western Branch'. Duck and Oliver can't think of a better name!
The engines are always on time, and the passengers find it a pleasure to ride aboard their 'Great Western' trains. If one is ill, the other will stand in for him. Engines will come and go, but Duck and Oliver will always be a common sight on this beautiful little line.
Indeed, everything ran well for the two Great Western Engines, until the arrival of an unwanted visitor, a bus named Bulgy. He was rude to the engines, and even attempted to steal their passengers. But the sulky fellow soon meet a humourous end, and sits now as a hen-house in a field some-way along the line. The trouble seemed to have passed by swiftly, but little did Oliver and Duck know that more trouble was waiting just around the corner, only a few months later...
*
The sun shone brightly over the coastal beauty of the Island of Sodor. Oliver the Great Western Engine was making his way swiftly to the Small Railway depot with a special goods train. As usual, everything was running like clockwork. He had plenty of steam, and plenty of time to spare. The weather improved his mood, as he clattered past the field where Bulgy the bus (or should I say, Bulgy the hen-house) stood, dozing in the sunlight. Oliver chuckled to himself as he rumbled past.
"PEEP! PEEP!", he tooted loudly, "Wake up lazybones!".
The old bus was taken by such shock that his aged horn sounded - 'HONK! HONK!'. Chickens and hens, who had nestled comfortably on his bonnet were taken by equal alarm, and began fluttered about madly, squawking loudly and scattering feathers everywhere. The old bus gave Oliver a dark scowl as he puffed by.
"What a lark! What a lark!", Oliver chuckled as he rolled smoothly on. He enjoyed teasing Bulgy. He felt that it had severed the old bus right to have himself landed in his current state. He was still grinning to himself as he arrived at the top station. Duck was there also, waiting with his afternoon train.
"Anyone would think", said Oliver, "That Bulgy asked to become a hen- house!"
"You aren't still tormenting him are you?", asked Duck gravely, "The past is the past after all".
"Don't be such a spoil-sport Duck", grinned Oliver, "Our victory over Bulgy is symbolic victory over Monarchism" - he couldn't pronounce the right word. "Don't be you mean 'Modernization'?", chuckled Duck.
"That's it", said Oliver swiftly, "Us getting rid of Bulgy means victory for railways over roads. To think, he wanted to take our place".
"It's not all that bad", said Duck, "Look at Bertie. He's useful and efficient - And he is pro-railway", he added with an undertone.
"Bulgy was a different case", snapped Oliver, "But with him no longer a threat to us, we don't have to worry about giving up our passengers..."
And with that, he set off to deliver his important load. Once he had finished, he collected Isabel and Dulcie and set off back to the other end of the line where his own afternoon passengers were waiting. Along the way, he often passed the old bus station, where Bulgy used to live. He enjoyed the sight of seeing the old building, now tumble-down and unused, baring a broad sign outside which read 'For Sale'.
But today, things were different. Oliver slowly puffed by the old bus station with a satisfied grin. But instead of the usual empty sight, his eyes met something new, causing his heart to sink. A large banner had been strung up across the doorway to the little building reading 'West-Island Bus Company: Re-Opened For Business'. He was taken by such surprise that he let off a blast of steam as he passed.
"Horrors!", he cried, "What's all this?"
"I haven't a clue", commented the driver, staring back towards the bus station and scratching his head with equal confusion, "Maybe we will learn more about it from the Fat Controller. He should be at the station".
Oliver began to worry, and he purposely sped up on the final stretch towards the station. Isabel and Dulcie exchanged a worried chorus - "Oh dear! Oh dear! What could the matter be? What could the matter be?".
They were soon to find out, as they rolled into the station moments later. But even more surprises were to come. Oliver was certain that he had made perfect timing, but much to his confusion, the station was packed with his afternoon 'regulars'. They all stood waiting for him, chatting excitedly.
"What a comfortable ride", he over-heard one man say.
"It certainly was a pleasure to take the service", agreed a woman.
"What's all this about?", fumed Oliver, looking about the excited crowd anxiously, "Why are they all here so early?"
Indeed, his afternoon passengers usually came in Bertie five minutes after he arrived. But Bertie was nowhere to be seen. At last, his driver spoke. His voice had a concerned note - "I think that is the answer to our puzzle".
And sure enough it was. Sir Topham Hatt was not on the platform, but standing in the station car-park, talking to a pair of men, who both wore identical uniforms and caps. Behind them, his paint shining a baneful red and his smirk broad enough to crack his bonnet, stood a large double-decker bus. He was looking extremely pleased with himself, and as Oliver examined him further, he couldn't help but feel that he had seen that smirk somewhere before. He began to simmer loudly as Sir Topham Hatt approached the platform and spoke him.
"I am proud to introduce you Oliver", he said with a smile, "To the West Island Bus Company and their very own bus, No. 294. They have agreed to assist us with the up-coming Summer 'peak' period. It'll be a lot of work for you and Duck to manage alone".
Oliver eyed the bus cautiously as his crew stepped down onto the platform to meet the acquaintance of the bus driver and conductor, and from the looks of it, there was certainly fiction between the two groups as they shook firm hands. The bus glanced over at Oliver and whispered, his voice low enough so as not to attract the attention of anyone nearby, Sir Topham Hatt in particular.
"So", he muttered, with a smile, "You must be Oliver. Yes. I was told a lot about you"
"Well I...", Oliver began.
But he found that he could not complete his sentence, as a memory returned from several months earlier. The day Bulgy had stolen Duck's passengers, Oliver had seen not one, but two large double-decker buses, standing side- by-side. One of them had been Bulgy, the other just as large, red and rude. It was this fellow who had taken Bulgy's passengers, leaving Bulgy to steal Duck's. Oliver gasped as it all began to make sense.
"So it's you", he muttered from behind gritted teeth, "Your the one who caused the whole predicament".
"How could I stand to see a fellow bus loose vital passengers to railway engines?", replied the bus, "Besides, it would be unsafe for them to travel in such dangerous things"
"Dangerous?", spluttered Oliver, wheeshing loudly from his pistons in sudden anger, "I'll have you know..."
"That you haven't had an accident in years?", asked the bus sarcastically, "Well then", he continued with a light chuckle, "Would you call, say, falling into the turn-table well an accident? Or was that just as rumour"
Oliver fell silent, but the water in his tanks began to boil with burning fury. His accident with the turn-table well had marked an embarrassing beginning to his life on Sodor, especially with the trucks. But he never imagined that it would reach the ears of outsiders. Before he could reply, the bus continued to speak. "Bulgy was put to disgrace at the hands of you railway engines", he muttered, "But that won't happen now that I'm on the road. I'll prove once and for all that it's safer by road. You'll be preserved as museum pieces in no time at all!"
"Nonsense", snorted Oliver, finally finding his voice, "You'll be turned into a hen-house before you can even say 'Free The Roads'"
The bus growled with fury as the guard finally blew his whistle and Oliver steamed away, grinning cheekily. The bus watched him with a dark scowl until he was out of sight and away on his journey. But all the while, Oliver couldn't help but think about what the bus had said.
*
"Funny that", chuckled Duck, "Only just this morning were you going on about how our victory over Bulgy had been a victory against 'Monarchism'".
Oliver wasted no time in informing Duck of what had happened that afternoon as they stood in their shed that evening. He had gone about his work all day, thinking about his meeting with the arrogant bus. It had now reached a point where he could no longer hold back his anger, and his concern, for much longer.
"Don't joke Duck!", whispered Oliver, "He had the cheek to call us dangerous!".
"Dangerous you say?", asked Duck's driver, who had been talking with Oliver's driver as they prepared to bid their two engines goodnight, "Well then, we'll soon do something about that!".
"A lumbering brute like that has some nerve to say such things about engines of the Fat Controller's Railway", added Oliver's driver, "The day that Sodor gives way the roads is the day that the sky falls!".
Oliver looked skyward anxiously. His driver chuckled - "It's only an expression". Oliver felt much better after that. An hour or so later, the two engines and their drivers were still discussing ways in which they hoped to get back at the baneful bus, but they had no luck.
"We'll sleep on it", said Duck's driver, "In the meantime, don't let it get to you".
The engines agreed, but found themselves awake, further into the night, still deep in plotting conversation.
*
Duck always left early in the morning with the first train of the day, departing from the main station on the Little Western Branch, enroute for Knapford. It took all the village folk to work, and it was vital that he arrived on time. But Duck the Great Western Engine is never late for any occasion.
His fire was burning nicely and he had plenty of water as he rolled into the station with Alice and Mirabel. Passengers often came on foot, and Duck would always be there to greet them when they arrived. But as he came to a stop, he noticed the large, red brute standing in the station courtyard, smirking his familiar smile.
"So that's the old fellow", he chuckled to his driver, "No wonder Oliver's frightened. Why, together, he and Bulgy could pass as twins".
The bus looked up as Duck let off steam - "Ah", he said, "So your the other one that runs this branch".
"How observant", replied Duck bluntly. He wasn't scared of buses, especially this one, "And why have you decided to park yourself here?"
"To save your passengers from danger", the bus swiftly replied. He eyed Alice and Mirabel - "The thought of allowing them to ravel in such dangerous, unsafe transport makes my axles groan in mourning".
Alice and Mirabel were most offended - "Oooo", they quivered, "What a brute! What a brute!". But Duck hushed them - "Don't worry", he whispered, "Our friends think otherwise". This made the two coaches feel much happier.
At that moment, the morning crowd arrived in the courtyard, enjoying the morning sunshine, when they were suddenly met with a difficult choice. Road or Rail? Some of them turned to each other, hoping to find an answer. Duck, the coaches and the crew all held their breath - "No doubt that baneful brute will try and steal our passengers from us again", muttered the fireman.
"Just give it a moment", whispered the driver, "Most of our passengers are our friends. They would never give up Duck for a bus".
And he was right. Most of the passengers had known Duck since the opening of the Little Western Branch and they wasted no time in climbing aboard Alice and Mirabel, who sang with rejoice as they slowly began to fill. But, others pondered long and hard before climbing aboard the bus. The conductor and driver exchanged satisfied grins, as the bus himself began to purr maliciously. Before long, Duck's train was only half full. The rest of his passengers had climbed aboard the bus.
"Next time", the bus joked, as his engine roared to life, "I might may need to take two trips!", and he spluttered away out of the courtyard and off down the road.
Duck watched him - "Now what'll we do?", he asked his crew. But it seemed that they had decided long before.
"We'll race him!", they said together, "We'll show him just how safe we can be, and get their in record time".
The passengers, and the two coaches, had no objections. Duck was anxious, but he was willing to try anything to out-beat the arrogant bus. In no time at all, the guard blew his whistle loudly, and with a flap of his green flag, Duck pulled out of the station with several big puffs of thick smoke. And with his passengers cheering and his coaches singing, he was on his way down the line with his fire roaring and his pistons pushing steadily.
"Come on boy!", called his driver, "Your doing nicely!"
"We'll show em'! We'll show em'!", Duck chanted, as he continued to coast down the line, gathering speed. The road ran near to the railway at several points down the line. At times, they would be separated by thick trees and forests. They reached a stretch of line that ran parallel with the road before turning off into a tunnel. Sure enough, the bus was speeding hastily along. Duck drew up alongside.
"So it's a race that you'll be wanting", the bus hooted loudly, "In that case, I except!"
"Anything to prove you wrong", chuckled Duck, and with ease, he steamed on ahead, over-taking the bus and disappearing into the tunnel, his smoke blinding the bus.
"The cheek of it!", he spluttered, "The cheek!"
"Don't give up already fella", encouraged his driver, "We'll do this one for Bulgy!"
And with a roar of his engine and a loud blast of his horn, the bus sped on, up and over the bridge. The passengers inside clung to their luggage and stared out of the window in confusion, startled by the sudden increase in speed. Before long, they were passing near to the railway line once again, separated by a river. Duck was making excellent timing and was still ahead. The bus gave a loud blast of his horn - "It's Safer By Road!", he sang rudely, as his driver madly pushed down the peddle, increasing speed further. Within seconds, he had over-taken the train and disappeared behind a cluster of forestry.
"I don't think I can go much faster!", Duck called, "It would be far too dangerous!"
"That's sensible thinking", called his fireman, "Even though it would be nice to show that brute what we're really made of, safety does come first".
And with that, Duck's driver slowly brought him back to his usual steady pace. The passengers groaned and sat back in their seats. Alice and Mirabel grumbled - "Should have taken the chance! Should have taken the chance!", but Duck knew that he couldn't afford to take any risks, especially racing with a bus.
But their lose was short-lived. No sooner had Duck steamed past the village, a red flat appeared on the station-platform up ahead. Duck was confused as his driver slowly brought him to a stop - "We don't usually stop here on the morning run", he said thoughtfully, "There must be an emergency".
Sure enough, as he left off steam, he was surprised to find the station crowded with passengers. Within moments, he realized that they were the passengers they had lost to the bus, but what were they doing here? He over- heard them grumbling loudly. "Dangerous driving!", a man complained loudly.
"Such a jeopardous thing should be taken off the roads at once", added a woman in agreement.
The station-master approached anxiously and spoke to Duck and his crew- "We've run into a spot of trouble", he explained, "Do you think you could take these passengers on to Knapford?"
"Whatever for?", asked Duck. But he soon found out why. Sure enough, standing on the roadside near the station building, his face fuming redder then his paint, stood the baneful bus. He was grumbling loudly and scowling. A police-car was parked behind him as his driver and conductor stood nearby, looking very ashamed of themselves as a police-man loomed over them, writing furiously in his notebook.
"Speeding way over the limit", said a second policeman who was trying to keep the crowd calm on the platform, "In a public area too! A regular law- breaker!"
"So", chuckled Duck with a broad smile, "It's safer by road is it?"
The bus pulled a dark scowl at him and continued to sulk loudly, his motor moaning and his crew red in the face with embarrassment. But there were more important issues at hand. Duck saw the anger on the faces of the passengers, and knew what he had to do - "Don't worry", he told them, "I'll get you there with minutes to spare".
The passengers were delighted. The apologized to Duck for not boarding his train - "That was one of silliest mistakes we've ever made", they said, "How could we doubt you Duck?".
"Passengers and safety", smiled Duck proudly, "Always come first on The Little Western Branch".
And in no time at all, the doors were banged, and the guard blew his whistle loudly. With one final toot of his whistle, Duck pulled out of the station with the passengers cheering, the coaches singing, and the bus growling in fury.
*****
