THE MISSING COACHES

The Fat Controller sat in his office, reading that day's newspaper. He had a lot on his mind; more goods and passengers were flooding to his railway, and his engines were having trouble keeping up, particularly those on the main line. The Fat Controller had made arrangements to bring in a new goods engine from Scotland to ease the workload, and they were due to arrive at any moment. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," called the Fat Controller. An inspector walked in, looking notably uneasy.

"Your new engines have arrived, sir." The Fat Controller put down the newspaper, staring at the inspector.

"...engines, inspector?"

"Yes, sir. There are two of them."

"But I only ordered one. How could there be two?"

"Some shipping error, no doubt, sir. I'd send the other one away, but, er… there's no way to tell which is which. They say they've 'lost their numbers.'" The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"So I see." He set his paper on his desk and stood up, grabbing his hat.

"We'll see about that." Before the inspector could reply, the Fat Controller marched out the door.

Two identical black tender engines stood in Knapford Sheds, each boring a cheerful grin as the Fat Controller walked up to them.

"Good morning, sir!" one of them greeted. The Fat Controller wasn't impressed.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding here. I asked your controller for one engine. Why are there two of you?"

"Two engines are always better than one, sir!" the other replied jovially. The Fat Controller grunted; it was clear he wasn't getting anywhere.

"I hear you've…" He cleared his throat sternly.

"...lost your numbers."

"Aye, we were stripped of them on tae way, sir, We had tae come up with names for ourselves. I'm Donald."

"And I'm Douglas," cut in the other engine, a bit too hastily. The Fat Controller looked from one to the other.

"One of you is playing truant," he replied at last, "Whoever it is, when I find them out, I shall be sending them home. You ought to understand that you can't simply gallivant off your railway whenever you wish." Donald and Douglas didn't reply as the Fat Controller turned to the inspector.

"Inspector, I want numbers on these two at once, and then they shall start work. I have… arrangements to make." The twins shared a glance as the Fat Controller walked away.

It wasn't long before painters came and painted bright, yellow numbers on Donald and Douglas' tenders - Donald nine and Douglas ten. After they were done, the twins were left alone in the shed for the paint to dry.

"Are ye sure this'll work, Donnie? He didnae seem tae buy it," Douglas whispered worriedly.

"We've come too far now," Donald murmured grimly, "We just have tae stick tae our story, prove ourselves, and we'll win over his heart before ye know it."

"Why dinnae we simply tell him-"

"Ye dinnae just trust a controller like that, Dougie. Ye'd know that better than anyone." Douglas looked at his buffers as the inspector walked up to them. He inspected their tenders before walking back out of the shed.

"I see you two are ready. Now, we'll have you both start in the yard. Here is our resident station pilot, Duck." The twins looked to see a green Pannier tank engine roll up to the shed.

"Come on, I have to show you the yard." Duck whistled and began reversing away. Donald and Douglas grinned before following.

"I hope you don't mind shunting, because there's a lot of it to be done today," Duck remarked as he and the twins rolled into the yard.

"Aye, nae bother. It's all just work after all," Douglas smiled. Duck raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"Well, that's quite a surprise. All our big engines grumble at just the thought of it."

"Good thing we're medium," Donald smirked, "Let's show them how it's done, eh?" Duck grinned as the twins whistled and immediately set to work; he found himself liking them already.

James sat at the station platform, looking around in annoyance.

"Where is that fuddy-duddy? He's certainly doing things the wrong way now…" Suddenly, James felt a violent bump from behind. He looked back in surprise to see his train, and behind it a tender engine he had never seen before shooting a cheeky smirk at him.

"W-Who are you?" James stammered.

"Donald, laddie, and I believe ye're the fuddy-duddy here!" James gaped, but before he could retort, Donald whistled and rolled away, leaving James speechless. Douglas, meanwhile, was working with Duck to shunt a long goods train.

"How are you enjoying yourself so far?" Duck asked.

"Och, I like it fine here, and I'm sure Donnie does too. It's peaceful."

"That's good, but if you run into Gordon, Henry or James, it might not be that way for long. Take my tip; watch yourself around them. They're sure to try some nonsense. Trust me, I know from experience." To Duck's surprise, Douglas chuckled.

"Dinnae fash yerself, lad. We'll soon settle them." Duck watched curiously as Douglas pushed a long line of trucks away.

As Donald and Douglas went about their work, the other engines were intrigued by them too, though the big engines were the exception.

"They have such deep-toned whistles," Gordon mused, "that if I didn't know any better, I'd mistake them for buses!"

"Or ships," chimed in Henry. Gordon began to laugh.

"Tugboat Annie!" Henry joined in, but James was still grumpy from his encounter with Donald earlier.

"They shunt too. What kind of tender engine shunts? It's disgusting," he grumbled, though Gordon and Henry were too busy laughing to notice. They also didn't notice Donald and Douglas slowly rolling beside them, one on each side.

"Ye wouldn't be making fun of us, would ye now?" Donald asked severely. All three engines jumped, and Gordon and Henry stopped laughing at once.

"N-No, certainly not," stammered Gordon.

"Us? Make fun of you? N-Never," added Henry hastily. The twins glared expectantly at James, who looked at his buffers in silence.

"That's fine. Now just mind the three of ye, and keep it that way," Douglas finished ominously. With that, Donald and Douglas rolled away, back to work. Gordon and Henry shared a stunned glance.

Later, Donald was to take a goods train to the other end of the line, while Douglas was to stay in the yard with Duck.

"Do ye think he knows?" Douglas wondered anxiously to Donald at the water column, "And that's why he wants me here? T-To call me out?"

"Nae, I think ye're overthinking it, Dougie. I'm sure ye'll get yer turn next. Why don't ye help Duck over there?" Donald suggested, "Poor lad looks exhausted, and it might calm yer nerves." Douglas glanced at Duck, who was shunting together Donald's trucks.

"Aye, ye might be right." Douglas whistled and rolled over to Duck.

"Do you need some help, laddie?" he asked. Duck sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness you're here. Would you mind fetching Edward's coaches from the station, Douglas?"

"Aye, nae bother." Douglas reversed to the station to collect the coaches, but he was still worried.

"I hope the Fat Controller doesn't find out I shouldn't be here… I can't go back, I can't… I'll just have to do as good a job as I can." Douglas rolled into the station, buffering up to Edward's coaches. As he was coupled up, he heard a loud snore. He gasped as at the platform next to his were two dozing coaches, the same color as Edward's.

"Why are they over there? Nae matter, I'll just shunt them away with the others." As quietly and gently as he could, he arranged the coaches so the sleeping coaches were on the tail end. He then pulled them back to the yard, leaving both platforms vacant.

Douglas shunted all of the coaches into a siding in the yard, and then left to wait behind Donald at the water tower. Just as he rolled up behind his twin, there was a shrill whistle. Donald and Douglas were surprised to see a red-in-the-face blue tank engine storming up to them.

"Where's my coaches?" he demanded crossly. Donald raised an eyebrow.

"Coaches? What coaches?"

"Annie and Clarabel, my coaches! They're not at the station!"

"Well, dinnae blame us, we've never seen them before! Right, Dougie?" Douglas, realizing something, was beginning to get nervous but tried his best to hold his composure.

"Of course, Donnie. Never seen 'em."

"Botheration! That Duck must've done it!" Thomas fumed, "Some 'Great Western Way' he has!" Thomas hurried away, leaving the twins at the water tower. As soon as he was out of earshot, Douglas groaned.

"Och na, those two coaches I saw must've been that engine's! I'm in for it now…"

"Nae ye're not," Donald replied firmly, "That laddie thinks Duck did it, we'll be fine."

"But Duck didnae!" protested Douglas, "He shouldn't get in trouble for my mistake."

"Listen, Dougie, if ye own up, he might send ye away on tae spot, and I'm nae letting that happen, no matter what ye say. I'll take tae fall if I have to."

"What? Donnie-"

"Take my goods; ye're in nae state of mind to be confronted." Douglas looked conflicted, but Donald gasped as from the other side of the yard, he could hear Thomas and Duck arguing.

"SILENCE!" cut in the Fat Controller. Thomas and Duck fell into silence, glaring at each other. The Fat Controller put his hands on his hips.

"Now, I don't know what's going on here, but it's clear someone made an error."

"Well, it wasn't me," Duck insisted, "I didn't even go near the station! I was arranging Donald's trucks!" At the mention of Donald, the Fat Controller tapped his chin.

"Hmm… This matters requires immediate investigation. Come on, you two." The Fat Controller climbed aboard Thomas' cab, and the two engines began moving towards where Donald and Douglas were.

"Go now," Donald barked at Douglas, "Do as I say!" Douglas gulped, but hurried away towards the siding. Donald grimaced as just as Douglas was out of sight, Thomas and Duck rolled in. The Fat Controller hopped down from Thomas' cab, caught off guard.

"Donald? What are you doing here? Where's Douglas?"

"Dougie took my train, sir. I have a wee pain in my boiler, ye see." The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"I see. What was he doing before he took over for you?"

"Nae nothing out of the ordinary, sir," Donald replied vaguely. Thomas and Duck shared a glance.

"Donald, I did send Douglas to take Edward's coaches back here," Duck said gently, "Perhaps he-"

"Dougie would never!" Donald cut in angrily, before stopping as the Fat Controller held up his hand.

"That's enough, we've argued enough as it is. Thomas, Duck, you two look in the siding with Edward's coaches and see if you can find Annie and Clarabel."

"Yes, sir," said Duck obediently and reversed away. Thomas grunted and reluctantly followed. Donald noticed the Fat Controller's shoulders twitch, and he wiped his eyes. Donald wondered if he was crying. He wasn't. The Fat Controller swung around suddenly, pointing a stern finger at Donald.

"It's become clear that both you and Douglas can't be trusted. I don't know what you two were thinking, but I will put an end to this nonsense, one way or another." Donald gaped and became even more horrified as in the distance, he heard Thomas shout.

"Annie and Clarabel!"

Author's Note: I wasn't expecting to do another adaptation so soon, but I read about possible alternatives the original story, one of them being Douglas stowing away Annie and Clarabel instead of just a new coach (credit to TheBuriedTruck for that idea). I loved the idea and it got implemented into this. Aside from that, there's not a lot of changes to the story itself, more just my own style being applied to it, which I'm quite happy with. Its place in the timeline is the same as the original, which I think is a first for these adaptations. I wanted to show Douglas as more evidently nervous since he's the one that has the most to lose, and Donald trying to protect him but his temper getting in the way. I've heard people say that Donald and Douglas aren't the most interesting of characters, but I personally disagree; the two have a lot to work with, both on their own and with others, it's just a matter of tapping into it. Enough of me rambling, though; the next story should be the Christmas story, hopefully. Let's hope it makes it out on time this year!