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John Gilbert > Great Locomotive Caper 1The Great Locomotive Caper
"Did you see that?" Sam shouted to Ralph. "The water's almost over the rails." "Yeah. Do you think the Eagle River bridge is gonna hold?" Ralph shouted back. "She's gotta hold. If we don't get this trainload of bags and sand to town, the whole place is gonna' be washed away," Sam shouted back over the roar of the engine. On they drove into the stormy night. In some places the water was already over the rails yet the great steel wheels charged onward with water flying from the rims. "Eagle River bridge one mile ahead!" Ralph yelled as they passed a milepost. "Don't you think we ought to check the bridge out before we give her a try?" "That's a good idea," said Sam as he eased back on the throttle. By the time they reached the bridge Sam had slowed the train to a crawl. They both donned raincoats, climbed down from the engine, and ran the short distance to the bridge. "Gee whiz!" cried Sam. In the constant strobe of lightning they could see the Eagle River was over its banks and swirling out of control. The raging river was lapping at the bottom of the bridge and floating debris were piling up against the structure. "It looks like she may go any minute," cautioned Ralph. "We don't have any choice," said Sam. "The whole town's waiting for that load of bags and we're gonna' bring it in or die trying. Come on. I've got an idea." They climbed back on board and Sam threw the Johnson Bar into reverse. "Ralph, I'm gonna' back up one mile and we’re gonna' make a run for it. I'll need you to pour the coal on because we're gonna' need every ounce of steam she'll make." As Sam opened the throttle the steel wheels slipped on the wet rails. In an instant the wheels grabbed the rails and the train lurched backwards. As the train chugged back along the track Ralph was busy shoveling coal into the firebox. "Ok, we're at one mile," said Sam as he closed the throttle and opened the brake valve. "Here goes nothing." Sam blew the whistle and pulled the throttle open. Again the wheels slipped then grabbed the rails. Slowly the train picked up speed. When Sam was within site of the bridge he pulled the throttle wide open. "We're doing at least 60 now," he said as the train raced toward the bridge. "I've just got one question," said Ralph. "What was Thomas Edison's greatest invention?" "What? Why would you want to know that now?" asked Sam as the lead wheels of the locomotive ran onto the shaky bridge. "Sam! What was Thomas Edison's greatest invention?" "Oh. Who? What?" "Sam. Have you been asleep in my class again?" "Oh, I'm sorry Mrs. Johnson. I, I wasn't asleep. You see there was this bridge that was about to be washed out." "I mean, uh, oh yeah, Thomas Edison's greatest invention. The light bulb?" "Sam, you haven't been listening to a word I've said. Edison's greatest invention was the research laboratory. Up until that time scientist and inventors worked alone. Edison pooled the talents of many people to work on a single project. This process is still used today," explained his teacher. "Remember that because it will be on your final exam." "Now, you may have the last ten minutes of class to study. I have to go the office for a moment and I expect you to be quiet while I'm gone." As she left a monotone murmur filled the room. "Boy, this class sure is boring," Sam said to Ralph who sat in the desk to his right. "How would you know. You were sound asleep. What was that about a bridge being washed out?" "Nothin'," said Sam turning red in the face. "What are you doing this afternoon?" "I've got to cut the grass. Why, have you got something in mind?" "No. I've got to study. Mom says if I don't get my grades up I'm grounded." Just then Mrs. Johnson entered the room at a brisk pace. "Class, I have some very exciting news!" she exclaimed. "Uh oh, they must have discovered another pair of George Washington's dentures," Sam whispered to Ralph. "Mr. Grimsley, editor of the Evening Gazette, was in the office and he said that the paper is going to offer a Founders Day essay contest. If any of you are interested in making an extra grade this semester you will need to write a three page essay on a point of historic interest in our community. Mr. Grimsley will judge for the best entry and the winning essay will be published in a special Founders Day edition of the paper. Of course every essay will be graded and could receive up to a hundred extra points." "Hum," thought Sam. "That could be an easy A." "To enhance your essay," Mrs. Johnson continued, "You could turn your essay into a project by taking photographs of the subject you have chosen and make a presentation before the class. I think this an excellent way to learn about the history of our community." Just then the bell rang and the students spilled into the hallway. "Are you going to write an essay?" Sam asked Ralph as he opened his locker. "Yeah, I guess so," Ralph answered. "It could pull a C up to a B." "Or a D up to a C," Sam returned. "Any idea what you're gonna write about?" "Well, my first thought was about the old fire station on Main Street. It's almost a hundred years old and my dad said that his grandfather helped to build it. You got any ideas?" "You ought to know what I'm gonna write about," smiled Sam. "If I know you it's got to be something to do with trains," guessed Ralph. "Yep. I thought I'd write a history on the old steam locomotive at Northside Park. I've already memorized every fact I could find on the engine so that should be an easy A." "Well, you ought to know everything about it," admitted Ralph. "You spend enough time crawling over that thing. You must really love that old pile of junk." "Hey, watch your mouth. That's a great old engine," said Sam as he tried to cram all of his books and papers into an already overloaded locker. "I think I'll take a few pictures and turn my essay into a project. That'll give me an A for sure." "You don't have enough pictures of it already?" "I mean some really good ones. Maybe some pictures taken at sunrise." "Well, you'd better hurry," said Ralph closing his locker. "You know my dad's on the city council and I heard him telling someone on the phone the other night that they were going to turn the park into a shopping center and sell the old engine for scrap." "Hey, are you coming or are you just going to stand there? What's the matter? You look like you've just seen a ghost or something," said Ralph. "Sold for scrap!" exclaimed Sam as he and Ralph walked toward the parking lot. "Are you sure he was talking about the engine and not the playground equipment or something?" "Does the number 468 ring a bell? No pun intended." "That's the engine number all right," said Sam as he slid into the driver’s seat of his jeep. "There's got to be some kind of mistake." "Well, you could always ask my father. He would know for sure." "I'll see you later this afternoon, ok?" said Ralph as Sam dropped him off at his house. "Ok. See you then," said Sam with a blank expression on his face. Sam didn't get much studying done that afternoon. His mind was totally occupied with engine number 468 that was sitting in the city park, for the present, that is. He wondered why anyone in his right mind would want to melt down that beautiful old locomotive and turn it into car bumpers. About 5:30 the doorbell rang. It was Ralph with Mike Morris and Milton Blumquest. "Hey, you want to shoot a few baskets?" asked Ralph as he spun a basketball on his index finger. "Nah. You guys go ahead. I've got a lot on my mind," returned Sam. "And being the great mind reader that I am, you're thinking about the old engine at Northside Park," said Milton with his hand over his brow. "Very funny, oh great swami," smirked Sam "Ralph told us about the demise of your favorite pastime,” Mike added. "Well, it hasn't demised yet," Sam stated. "Ralph, is your dad home?" "He was when I left." "How about calling him and finding out if this shopping center deal is for real." The group made its way to the phone and Ralph made the call. "Dad says the project is supposed to be under wraps at the present and no one is supposed to know about it," Ralph stated with his hand over the mouthpiece. "Ask him why the big secret," said Sam. "What's the big secret?" asked Ralph. He listened quietly for a moment. "Ok, see you later. Good by," said Ralph as he hung up the phone. "What's the big deal?" asked Sam. "He said that if word got out it could cause a lot of problems, especially if the leak was traced back to him. He said just forget about it." "Forget about it!" Sam exclaimed. "Sure, why not scrap everything we're not using. Why not open up the museums and melt down everything in them too." "What's so special about that old train?" asked Mike. "It doesn’t even work and besides, there are a dozen trains that run through town every day." "You don't understand do you? Returned Sam. "That locomotive is a piece of history. It was the steam locomotive that built this country and made it great. Now that we've become great, like a fair weather friend, we get the glory and they get the cutters torch." "Well, get off your soap box and let's shoot a few hoops," said Milton. "Anyway, there's nothing you can do about it." "Maybe I can talk to the mayor," he suggested. "Maybe if he sees that someone is interested in the locomotive he'll just have it moved or something." "You could get my dad into a whole lot of trouble if you do that," said Ralph. "The mayor doesn’t know that I know your dad and I won't tell him were I got the information. I'll just say that I heard a rumor or something." Sam's mood lightened and he went to play basketball with his friends. The next morning he was on the phone with the mayor’s office. "3:45 this afternoon," he repeated to the receptionist over the phone. "Ok, I'll be there." After school Sam drove to City Hall. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say and that made him a bit nervous. "Hi," he said as he entered the mayor's secretary's office. "I have a 3:45 appointment to see the mayor. I called this morning." "Yes, the mayor is expecting you. You can go on in," said the secretary opening the door to the mayor's office. As Sam entered, a short, balding man stood up at his desk. He smiled and shook Sam's hand. "Hello young man. I'm Harvey Pugmyre. Now, what can I do for you?" "Hi. My name is Sam Thomas and I was wondering if you could answer a question for me?" "I will if I can. Why, that's part of my job. 'Keep the people informed' I always say." "I heard that Northside Park is going to be turned into a shopping center and the old steam locomotive is going to be sold for scrap. Is that true?" The mayor's smile suddenly dropped, his eyebrows raised, and Sam thought he kind of looked like the cat that swallowed the canary. He resumed his smile only now speaking through his pearly white teeth. "Where did you get that information?" he asked. "Well, I heard it through the grapevine, as they say." "What kind of a grapevine?" asked the mayor. "Well, you know how it is sir. You hear all kinds of stuff during the day and that's something I heard the other day and I want to know if it's true." "Well now," said the mayor running his finger inside his shirt collar, "As you know our city is growing very rapidly and from time to time it becomes necessary to put lands to other uses. Now I'm not saying that Northside Park is going to be turned into a shopping center but if that were to happen, and I do say IF, you'll have no need to worry. We'll build ball fields and recreation facilities on other city properties so you'll have plenty of places to play ball. It's been a real pleasure talking with you." "Ball fields are well and good but what about the locomotive," asked Sam. "Well what about the locomotive?" Hissed the mayor. "Is it going to be scrapped?" The mayor was now visibly irritated. "Son, that engine was given to the city forty years ago. It is city property. Now, I'm not saying that we are going to dispose of it but if we were, and I do say IF, as scrap it could bring the city a tidy bit of revenue." "Yes, but what about its historic value?" asked Sam. "History doesn’t pay the bills, young man. Now I like that old engine as much as anyone else. In fact if you'll look on that shelf behind you you'll see that I've had the whistle mounted to keep someone from stealing it." Sam looked to the shelf behind him and saw a three chime steam whistle mounted on a polished oak stand. He had often wondered what had happened to the whistle. It had been removed from the locomotive long ago and its pipe had been covered by a bean can to keep out insects and moisture. Sam thought the whistle would look better sitting in his room than in the mayor's office. "Couldn't it be moved to another park?" Sam asked. "The tax payers would have to pay to have it moved and I don't think they'd like that. That engine's got to go, er, I mean if it has to go it has to go. Now I wouldn't like to see it scrapped any more than anybody else but do you know what scrap iron is selling for these days? Why, that engine could go a long way to help ease the tax burden." "Well, my folks say that every time something is done to ease the tax burden, taxes go up," Sam stated. "I have an idea," Sam continued. "There's a stretch of abandoned track that runs between here and Melville. It runs past the reservoir, then follows Morning Creek and passes Indian Falls. It's a beautiful area. Why not fix up the old engine, clean up the tracks, and run a weekend tourist train? People would come from all over the state to enjoy the ride. Scrapping the engine would be a one time thing but a tourist train would bring in money all year long." The mayor relaxed his grip and pondered the idea for a moment. "Well Dan." "That's Sam, sir." "Well Sam, that seems like a real good idea but it would cost a great deal of money. And then there's the matter of insurance. Do you know what it would cost to insure a tourist train? Everybody's so sue happy these days. Land sakes! The cost would be prohibitive. I doubt very seriously the city council would even consider such a matter." "We could ask then," Sam pleaded. "I think my next appointment is here," said the mayor rising from his seat. "Sorry we can't talk longer. Things will work out for the best. You'll see." Sam saw that it was pointless to continue. He gave the mayor a weak handshake and left the office. Now read chapter 2 of "The Great Locomotive Caper"
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Engine number 468 roared into the driving rain, its headlight piercing the liquid darkness. Instantly, a blinding flash of lightning illuminated the tracks ahead. The water in the roadbed was almost to the tops of the tracks.