Meekford took over and Wood decided that this was the perfect moment to slip away for two minutes. And so he did, but oh how unfair! As he made his way over to the toilets, he passed a shed and could hear a muffled shout. But if he'd open the door now, he would have to ask questions and make a report and all that, and that would take longer than his bladder could suffer.

And so he returned, three minutes later, much more relaxed, and opened the door. A very angry looking youth sat on the floor in his underwear, tied and gagged, with a headwound. "Mr. Meekford!" he shouted, and he walked over to untie the poor guy.

The shout roused those present and Meekford hurried as fast as his aging legs could carry him. Other porters trotted behind, their curiosity getting the better of their duty; drama this exciting would make the next tea break much more enjoyable. Nate followed too, if only because he was centre stage of this farce. Some of the younger porters arrived before Meekford and Nate could not help but notice their half suppressed grins at the misfortune of their colleague.

Was there any soul more miserable in the world!? Robert believed their wasn't. He had been knocked down, had woken up with the worst heachache he'd ever had and found himself tied, gagged and stripped off most of his clothing. And to make it all worse, now that these imbeciles had finally found him after what seemed like hours, he could see those porters smirking. Could anything be more humiliating?

"I'll sue you, Meekford!" he shouted, as soon as the constable removed the gag. The shouting made his head feel like it was about to split. But his anger was stronger. "I'll sue you and the whole bloody company!!!!"

"Mister Carrington," Meekford projected loudly with the practise of a man to had authority and power but very rarely raised his voice to use it. In ordinary time, assault on a staff member was very serious and Meekford would be handling this much more sensitively. But this boy Carrington hadn't made the best of first impressions and Meekford didn't feel like getting too weepy over his misfortune.

"I refuse to discuss company affairs with a employee in his underwear! You will find some trousers and report to my office immediately."

Bill had just finished his shift and was on his way out of the station. His clothes and face were dirty with soot, as they always were at the end of the day. His arms felt warm and tired. But there would be hot water and soap and clean clothes waiting for him at home. If Lottie didn't prepare it for his sake, she would to protect her kitchen. Bill had learned early to take his shoes off on the doorstep.

There was some sort of commotion down by one of the storage shacks. A crowd of porters, an unknown gentleman, and Meekford had gathered outside and were looking in. Bill's curiosity got the better of him and he joined the crowd. Just as the tied and scarcely dressed young man came in view, he began to shout about suing Meekford and the company. No doubt about who this was, then. Blacke hadn't seen the kid yet, but he had heard of the unusual construction, and though he worried a little that the kid might choose to also take this out on Joe, he couldn't help feeling pleased at the same time that the rich turd learned what it meant to actually work for your money.

If this sight itself wasn't funny enough yet, Meekford's comment had Bill twisting his lips and tongue in a desperate attempt to hide his glee. He looked at Meekford, gave the subtlest tip of his cap in the mans direction, and left to share this delightful story with Lottie and Joe.

Meekford's comment provoked open snorts and chuckles from some of the young porters and rage from Robert. "I don't have trousers because I was attacked! Under your supervision! You get me some trousers! You have uniforms! And I'm going to need a doctor!"

Wood did not like what he was seeing and thought that the gag had suited the young man quite nicely. But he reluctantly turned to Meekford and admitted: "He probably needs a doctor." Judging by the young man's shouting, he was fine, but he did have a head wound and Wood feared he would be to blame if the kid died on his beat for lack of medical attention.

Meekford nodded at the constable's suggestion.

"Very well." he turned to the assembled staff "send a lad for a doctor and one of you grab a set of coveralls from the engine shed; the ones we use for inspections." Meekford had long insisted on spare overalls be on hand if inspections, or getting dirty were required by himself or someone like Sir Hugh from head office. Meekford adjusted his spectacles on his nose before pushing through the gaggle of bystanders to the passenger who was also an actor in this drama.

"Sir, on behalf of the North Eastern Railway, please accept my apologies for this unfortunate event. We cannot compensate you for your bag, but perhaps complimentary ticket to somewhere?"

"I guess that would be Castleford." Nate sighed. He would be staying at the house after all.

"See to it that this gentleman has return ticket to Castleford."