when Ben goes on: “Poor chap; he’d been outer sorts for some time, and I do think he took more than he should; but one way and another, he was horribly low-spirited, and would quite upset you with the way he’d talk. The last night as I stoked him, he got telling me his reg’lar tale, about a run down he had, and one as he had never forgotten about, being on full swing in a terribly dark foggy night, he heard a whistle, and looking back he could see a train coming on at an awful rate just behind him, when of course he put on more steam. But that didn’t seem no good; for coming round the curve, he could see the train closing up fast; and at last, when half mad with fear, and ready to jump off, he saw that the train was on the up line, and the next minute it was alongside his; and there they two were racing abreast of each other; when he slackened, the other slackened; and when he did t’other, they did t’other. Same length train; same size engine; same lights; and fire door open like his; so that he could see the driver’s face; and he says, says he, ‘I nearly dropped; for it was me as was driving that ’tother train.’ On they goes together into the tunnel, and out they goes together. When he looked back, there was all the carriages lit up, and all just as if it was his own train; but whistling at the short stations when he did, and keeping an exactly same pace. It was like being in a cloud, the fog was so heavy; while the steam from both funnels mixed together.

“It was Christmas-eve, just like this; and yet cold as it was, he said, poor chap, the water dripped from his face as they rushed on. He knew it couldn’t last long, for there’d be an up-train directly, and then there must be a fearful smash; but yet something seemed to tell him as there wouldn’t; and watching as they went by station after station, he stood trembling at his post. All at once he could see the up-train coming; and then he put on a spurt so as to be ahead when the smash came; but that was no use, for the train kept aside his, and then all at once there was a shriek, and a rush, and the up-train was right behind; while along side his, there was that same engine just in the same place, and him a-driving it. Poor Tom used to make me creep when he told that tale, and he didn’t live long arter; for one night there was something wrong in front of our engine, when he wouldn’t wait till we stopped, but got along as we were going, and when I was expecting him to come back, and looked—for I’d been putting on more coal—there was some blood splashed all about the screen, and when I stopped and run back, there was poor Tom lying all to bits in the six foot. And they do say as he’s been seen by some of the chaps a running a ghost engine along the line at 

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