Chapter 227: Speedkiller

"I'm normally not one to complain, but this is dreadfully boring!" Rusty moaned as he. Mr. Hugh chuckled as he opened the tap.

"Sorry Rusty, but it has to be done, you know that."

"Yes, I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it, now does it?"

"Well, I guess you've got me there."

Rusty's train that morning was a flat truck with a large tank on it. A pipe at the back hung across the line. As Rusty trundled across the track, Mr. Hugh turned a valve, releasing a spray from holes in the pipe between the rails to kill any weeds growing within. It did wonders, but in order to spread it properly the engine had to travel at a snail's pace. For this reason, many on The Skarloey Railway dread having to take it. Fortunately for Rusty, he only had to do this once a year, but even that was too much in his eyes. Fred was supposed to handle it that dayr, but he had "taken ill."

The holiday season was upon them, and people flocked to Crovan's Gate in droves to see the marvelous little railway. Rheneas's eyes nearly popped right out of his head when he saw the crowded platform.

"Good lord! I knew we'd have a crowd, but this is ridiculous! I hope the coaches will hold."

It was so bad that they needed another coach. It was a very tight fit, but they managed to squeeze them all in. But it had taken so long that they were late leaving the station, and Rheneas was keen to make up for lost time.

"If I don't make Skarloey on time, Duncan will never let me hear the end of it."

They had to stop at the middle station to let Rusty pass. Rheneas offered him a sympathetic smile, which was gladly reciprocated before the sad train passed them.

"Poor Rusty. Weedkiller? More like speedkiller!"

After the middle station, A small hill crosses a stream. The engine drivers usually try to get a running start at it, especially with heavy trains. But today hedge cutters were working along the section, and Rheneas had to pass by very carefully. Rheneas tried his best, but all momentum was lost, and the train slipped to a stop. Rheneas and Cora, the guard, got out to inspect.

"Well, there's your answer," Rheneas huffed, "The rails are oilier than a rag! Rusty and Mr. Hugh sure did their job through here alright."

"And we could do without the extra coach, too," sighed Cora.

Defeated, they brought the train back to the base of the hill for another go. A few passengers got impatient with all the waiting, but Cora soon had them settled down.

"Alright, here goes."

Inching forward, Rheneas opened the sand pipes, giving them more grip. Slowly but surely, the train made its way up the slope.

"Come on, old girl. We did it once, and we'll do it again!"

Slowly but surely, they reached the stream, crossing it like a turtle crossing a street.

"Come on...almost there...YES! Success!"

A loud cheer erupted from the coaches. But sadly, with all the delays, the visitors had only a short time to enjoy the view by the lake before Rheneas had to take them home. But they didn't mind, and when they reached Crovan's Gate they had nothing but praise for him.

"A Gallant Old Man indeed! He'd cross that stream or burst!"

All Rheneas could do was just smile.