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Meanwhile John Marrot proceeded to the engine-shed to prepare his iron horse for action. Here he found that his fireman, Will Garvie, and his cleaner, had been attending faithfully to their duty.
But of all the sights to be seen there, the most interesting, perhaps, and the most amusing, was the visage of worthy Mrs Marrot as she followed Will Garvie and her son, and gazed in rapt amazement at the operations, and listened to the sounds, sometimes looking all round with a half-imbecile expression at the rattling machinery, at other times fixing her eyes intently down on one piece of mechanism in the vain hope of penetrating its secrets to the core.
Instantly there was a loud hissing yet ringing sound, accompanied by a shower of sawdust, and, long before Mrs Marrot had recovered from her surprise, the log was cut into two thick substantial planks. After two or three more had been cut up in this way in as many minutes, Will Garvie said "Now, let's see what they do with these planks. Come here."
"I'm glad to see you, sir," he said in a low, earnest voice. "My mate, Bill Garvie, must be badly hurt, for he's nowhere to be found. He must be under the wreck somewheres. I wouldn't leave the spot till I found him in or'nary circumstances; but my Mary " He stopped abruptly. "I hope Mrs Marrot is not hurt?" said Edwin anxiously. John could not reply at first.
Will Garvie, who was naturally bold no wonder, considering his meteor-like style of life saw all the flowers in the garden as well as any other man, and admired them more than most men, but he said gravely that he wouldn't give the end of a cracked boiler-tube for the whole garden, if she were not in the midst of it.
"Garvie," he said, in a low kind voice, "I'm sorry to tell you that the doctors say you must lose your left arm." Will looked intently in Edwin's face. "Is there no chance of savin' it?" he asked earnestly; "it might never be much to speak of, sir, but I'd rather run some risk than lose it." Edwin shook his head.
Well, as I wos agoin' to say, there's a great to-do down at the shed, 'cause it's said that an awful lot o' thefts has bin goin' on of late at Bingly station, and it's bin reported that some of the drivers or firemen are consarned in it. An' d'ee know, father," continued Bob, suddenly becoming grave and very earnest, "I heard one o' the men say that Will Garvie is suspected."
"A fine day, John," he said, lounging up to the engine where John was leaning on the rail, contemplating the departure of the passengers whose lives had been in his hands for the last hour and a half, while Will Garvie was oiling some of the joints of the iron horse. John admitted that it was a fine day, and asked what was the noos. "Nothing particular doing just now," said Mr Sharp.
"They're pretty thick," replied Will Garvie, wiping his countenance with a piece of waste, which, while it removed the perspiration, left behind a good deal of oil, and streaked his nose with coal-dust. But Will was not particular! The excursionists were indeed unusually numerous.
"How can you say that, Missis," said Will Garvie, "you bein' old enough to remember the time w'en there wasn't five joiners' shops in Clatterby, with p'rhaps fifty men and boys employed, and now there's hundreds of joiners, and other shops of all kinds in the town, besides these here railway works which, as you know, keeps about 3500 hands goin' all the year round?"
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