Duck the Great Western Engine puffed sadly to Edward’s station. “It’s not fair,” he complained. “Diesel has been telling lies about me and made Sir Topham Hatt and all the engines think I’m horrid.”

Edward smiled. “I know you aren’t, and so does Sir Topham Hatt. You wait and see. Why don’t you help me with these cars?”

Duck felt happier with Edward and set to work at once.

The cars were silly, heavy, and noisy. The two engines had to work hard, pushing and pulling all afternoon.

At last they reached the top of the hill.

“Goodbye,” whistled Duck, and rolled gently over the crossing to the other line.

Duck loved coasting down the hill, running easily with the wind whistling past.

Suddenly—Tweeeet!

It was a conductor’s warning whistle.

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” laughed the cars. “We’ve broken away. We’ve broken away. Chase him, bump him, throw him off the rails,” they yelled.

“Hurry, Duck, hurry!” said the Driver.

They raced through Edward’s station, but the cars were catching up. “As fast as we can—then they’ll catch us gradually.” The Driver was gaining control. “Another clear mile and we’ll do it. Oh, glory! Look at that!”

James was just pulling out on their line from the station ahead. Any minute, there could be a crash.

“It’s up to you now, Duck,” cried the Driver.

Duck put every ounce of weight and steam against the cars.

“It’s too late!” Duck groaned, and shut his eyes. He veered into a siding where a barber had set up shop. He was shaving a customer.

The silly cars had knocked their Conductor off his van and left him far behind after he had whistled a warning.

But the cars didn’t care. They were feeling very pleased with themselves.

“Beg pardon, sir!” gasped Duck. “Excuse my intrusion.”

“No, I won’t!” said the barber. “You’ve frightened my customers. I’ll teach you.” And he lathered Duck’s face all over.

Poor Duck!

Thomas was helping to pull the cars away when Sir Topham Hatt arrived.

“I do not like engines popping through my walls,” fumed the barber.

“I appreciate your feelings,” said Sir Topham Hatt, “but you must know that this engine and his crew have prevented a serious accident. It was a very close—um—shave!”

“Oh!” said the barber. “Oh, excuse me.” He filled a basin of water to wash Duck’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were being a brave engine.”

“That’s all right, sir. I didn’t know that either.”

“You were very brave indeed,” said Sir Topham Hatt. “I’m proud of you.”

Sir Topham Hatt watched the rescue operation. Then he had more news for Duck. “And when you are properly washed and mended, you are coming home.”

“Home, Sir? Do you mean the Yard?”

“Of course.”

“But, Sir, they don’t like me. They like Diesel.”

“Not now. I never believed Diesel, so I sent him packing. The engines are sorry and want you back.”

A few days later when he came home, there was a really rousing welcome for Duck the Great Western Engine.