Chapter 185: Pop Special
Duncan's accident with the brambles was soon forgotten, as the workload increased drastically. Over the next couple of days, a group of scouts began setting up tents in a field alongside the line. They were always bustling about with work, but always stopped to wave whenever a train passed.
"They're here for their annual camp," Mr. Percival explained one night. "The scoutmaster has spoken to Mr. Hugh, and he agreed to let them help out with odd jobs around the railway."
"Some camping trip," Duncan snorted, rolling his eyes, "sounds more like free labor."
"Nonsense," laughed Mr. Percival, "Lots of railways do it, including the Talyllyn Railway where Sir Handel is. And don't worry, they won't be in the way. The first thing I'll have them do is fix the ditches near the top station."
Each day it got hotter and hotter, and the engine drivers could hardly stand it. Each train was full of holidaymakers hoping to relax by the lake. It was especially hard on the scouts, who found it harder to so much wave to the trains as time went on.
On their last day, Duncan drove the last train up, looking forward to a long rest before the journey home. As the train approached the worksite, Duncan sounded the whistle to let them know he was coming. To his shock, the scoutmaster walked onto the line and waved his arms, trying to get him to stop. Realizing something was wrong, Duncan braked the train to a stop.
"Its dreadfully hot out," the scoutmaster told him, "and we're all out of water. Could you please bring some pop on your way back?"
"Sure thing. I'm sure the refreshment lady will have some."
But Duncan was dismayed to find out she did not.
"Sorry dearie, I just sold the last one. I'll have to go and get some more, but not for another 2 hours."
"Great, now what shall I do?"
Just then Duncan remembered something. There was a small shop at Lakeside that sold drinks for low prices.
"I wonder if Mary has any pop left? Its worth a shot."
Mary the shopkeeper was more than happy to lend a hand.
"I don't have much, but they're happy to have what I do."
"Thanks Mary, it means a lot!"
By now, the scouts were completely exhausted, unable to move an inch. Just then, they heard a whistle, and Duncan's engine came round the bend. Duncan stepped out holding a huge crate of pop.
"Pop for everyone!"
Everyone cheered, and thanked Duncan, who smiled modestly.
"Ah, twas nothing. A pop special, if you will."