d have to thank themselves if they are maimed
and killed, because they descend on railways for compensation with a
ruthless hand; (shame to Government here, for allowing it!) and still
further, impoverish their already over-taxed coffers. Compensation for
injury is just, but compensation as it is, and has been claimed and
awarded, is ridiculously unfair, as well as outrageously unwise.

Fortunately Sam Natly's wicked resolve to indulge in undutiful slumber
did not result in evil on this occasion, although it did result in
something rather surprising. It might have been far otherwise had Sam
been a pointsman!

In order to enjoy fully the half-hour which he meant to snatch from
duty, Sam entered a first-class carriage which stood on a siding, and,
creeping under a seat, laid himself out at full length, pillowing his
head on his arm. Tired men don't require feather-beds. He was sound
asleep in two minutes. It so happened that, three-quarters of an hour
afterwards, an extra first-class carriage was wanted to add to the train
which John Marrot was to "horse" on its arrival at Clatterby. The
carriage in which Sam lay was selected for the purpose, drawn out, and
attached to the train. Tired men are not easily awakened. Sam knew
nothing of this change in his sleeping apartment.

Meanwhile Clatterby station became alive with travellers. The train
drew up to the platform. Some passengers got out; others got in. The
engine which brought it there, being in need of rest, coal, and water,
moved off to the shed. John Marrot with his lieutenant, Garvie, moved
to the front on his iron horse, looking as calm and sedate in his
conscious power as his horse looked heavy and unyielding in its
stolidity. Never did two creatures more thoroughly belie themselves by
their looks. The latent power of the iron horse could have shot it
forth like an arrow from a bow, or have blown the whole station to
atoms. The smouldering fires in John's manly breast could have raised
him from a begrimed, somewhat sluggish, driver to a brilliant hero.

Some of the characters who have already been introduced at Clatterby
station were there on this occasion also. Mr Sharp was there, looking
meditative as usual, and sauntering as though he had nothing particular
to do. Our tall superlative fop with the sleepy eyes and long whiskers
was also there with his friend of the checked trousers. Mr Sharp felt
a strong desire to pommel these fops, because