Rock ‘n’ Roll, by the Rev. W. Awdry
When Skarloey’s turn came, he was glad to take out the coaches and meet old friends. He met Rusty up the line. “You know,” he said, “if I couldn’t see the old places, I’d think I was on a different railway.”
Rusty laughed. “We hoped you would. Mr Hugh, our Foreman, said ‘Rusty, Skarloey’s coming home. Let’s mend the track so well that he won’t know where he is!’ And we did, and you didn’t; if you take my meaning.”
Skarloey chuckled away. He liked this hard-working, friendly little engine.
“There’s still one bad bit,” said Rusty anxiously that evening. “It’s just before the first station. We hadn’t time.”
“Never mind!” said Skarloey. “It’s much better now than it was.”
“Maybe better; but it’s not good,” replied Rusty. “An engine might come off there. Peter Sam and Sir Handel take care, and so do you, but I’m worried about Duncan. He *will* do Rock ‘n’ Roll. I shouldn’t like his passengers hurt.”
“What’s that about me? I’m a plain engine and believe in plain speaking. Speak up, and stop whispering in corners.”
Rusty told Duncan about the bad bit of line, and warned him to be careful.
“Huh!” he grunted, “I know my way about, thank you! *I* don’t need smelly Diesels to tell me what to do.”
Rusty looked hurt.
“Never mind,” said Skarloey. “You’ve done your best.” He said no more, but he thought a great deal.