Chapter 259: The Fogman

One morning, Thomas was taking a passenger train down his branchline. It was very foggy that day, especially as he reached Hackenbeck Valley. Thomas groaned to himself, he knew what that meant.

"Bother. Now I'm going to have to deal with that fog machine again."

Sure enough, he saw it as he drove around the corner. As he approached, it blared its foghorn long and loud, making Thomas cover his ears in pain.

"I miss Cyril. At least his detonators never shattered my eardrums."

Cyril used to be the fogman for that section of line. Whenever there was a fog advisory, he would go out and set detonators. Whenever an engine ran over them, they would be set off, alerting the drivers that there was danger ahead and to proceed with caution. Everyone liked these, as they could feel the vibrations through the floor and it made them tingle. But when Cyril retired, Sir Topham Hatt replaced him with a Foghorn, which nobody liked. It was too loud, and bound to cause an avalanche.

"That Foghorn will cause an accident one of these days, just you wait."

And he was right. The next day, he was taking a train of empty trucks to the quarry when he passed through the valley once more. He expected to hear the foghorn again, but heard nothing.

"That's good," he thought to himself. "The fog must have cleared."

But it hadn't. As Thomas approached the valley, the fog rolled in thick and heavy. Thomas could hardly see the line ahead.

"Oh dear, I'd better slow down."

But before he could, his engine plowed right into a mud drift, getting stuck in the thick landslide.

"What the- where's that foghorn?"

He soon found it, broken and smashed next to the cliff. Thomas shook its head.

"I knew this would happen sooner or later. Bother, Percy will be coming through soon. I've got to warn him, but how?"

"Leave that to me!" Called a voice Thomas knew all to well.

"Cyril! Thank goodness you're here."

"Don't worry Thomas, I'll warn the line. You just stay put!"

Not long after, Percy was coming down the line with his own train. As he approached the bend, he felt a detonator go off, sending a chill down his spine.

"Wait a minute, why can't I hear the foghorn? I'd better slow down, something isn't right."

He braked his train just in time, stopping just inches away from Thomas's brakevan.

"Thomas, what happened?"

"The stupid foghorn caused an avalanche, and now I'm stuck! Good thing Cyril was here."

"Yeah, I'll say."

Once Thomas was rescued and the line cleared, the two set off once more. That evening, Sir Topham Hatt came to see them, looking most ashamed.

"What happened today was not your fault. I should've known something like this would happen."

"I'm just glad nobody got hurt."

"I couldn't agree more, Percy. I've decided to scrap the foghorn, and will start looking for a new fogman tomorrow."

With that, Sir Topham Hatt left. A while later, another person came to see them. It was Stacy, Cyril's daughter, and she looked very sad.

"What's wrong, Stacy?"

"Its my father. He...he passed away today."

"Oh Stacy, that's horrible. He was a great man."

"Thanks, Toby. Still though, 90 isn't too bad."

"Bother. Now we'll never get a chance to thank him for saving us this morning."

Stacy tilted her head in confusion.

"This morning? Thomas...my father passed away in his sleep. I found him dead when I went to deliver him his breakfast.

Thomas and Percy just gaped in shock.

"You must have just imagined it. Anyway, I just thought you should know."

Stacy left, leaving Thomas and Percy with so many questions.

"We couldn't have both imagined it...could we?"

"I don't know, Percy. I really don't know."