John Gilbert > Great Locomotive Caper 7

The Great Locomotive Caper by John Gilbert
CHAPTER 7

Ralph sat on his bike in front of the fire station for several minutes.

“How am I supposed to get a fire hose?” he thought. “I wonder if they would let me borrow one. Now why would someone want to borrow a fire hose? I’ll think of something.”

He rode his bike through an open door and into an empty bay.

“Can I help you son?” asked a fireman.

“Hi. My name is Ralph Cook and I’m doing a report on this fire station for school. My great grandfather helped build this building.”

“Well, how can I help you?” asked the fireman.

“I thought maybe it would help my report out if I had something to show the class. Something like maybe, a fire hose!”
The fireman chuckled.

“Wouldn’t you rather have something like a fireman’s hat or a coat. I don’t think a hose would be very interesting, and if it came uncoiled you’d have a big mess.”

“Nope. A hose is just what I need.”

“What does this young man need?” asked an older mustached gentleman wearing a captain’s cap.

“He want’s a fire hose, Pops,” returned the fireman.

“Did I hear you say your great granddaddy helped build this station?” Pops asked. “Who
was he?”

“Ruffus Cook,” Ralph returned.

“Ruffus Cook,” Pops returned. “Lord have mercy! I knew your great grandpa. Oh, I was just a boy. He once let me ride on a fire engine and after that I always wanted to be a fireman. He was a good man, your great grandpa.”

“Yes sir,” said Ralph. “He died when I was just a kid.”

“Jim, if the boy want’s a hose, get him one. Let him have one of the old ones out back,” Pops ordered. “It’s good to know you Ralph. You come back and let us know how you did on your report.”

“Yes sir, I will,” said Ralph as he tied the hose to his bike. “And thanks a lot.”
Ralph waved at the two firemen as he turned his bike toward the park.

“I’ll stop by my house and get my dad’s big pipe wrench. “It’ll open any fire hydrant,” Ralph thought.
A short while later he arrived at the park with the hose and wrench.

“Good work,” said Sam as he took the hose. “How did you get it?”

“I asked and they gave it to me. Piece of cake!”

“I’m glad but I’ll bet Milton has to do more than ask.”
It was close to 5:00 when Milton arrived at city hall. Some employees were already leaving and wishing each other a nice weekend, however the mayor’s secretary was still at her desk. He sat down on a bench in the hall so he could keep an eye on her. In a few minutes she got up and came into the hallway. Milton pretended to read a magazine as she went to the ladies room. Milton put down his magazine and stole quietly past the secretary’s desk and into the mayor’s office. He carefully closed the door and turned around. In front of him stood a tall bookcase upon which stood the whistle.

“Oh, this is too easy,” he thought.

He had just pulled a chair to the bookcase when he heard voices in the secretary’s office. Instantly he returned the chair to its proper spot next to the window and jumped behind the curtain.

“You big lump head,” scolded the mayor as he and his brother-in-law entered the office. “You just keep your mouth shut! I’ll bet you’re the one who spilled the beans about the park closing!”

“It wasn’t me, Harvey,” said the brother-in-law. “I ain’t said a word about none of this.”

“Listen, I’ve got a lot of money riding on this deal. I stand to make a cool million on this shopping center project. I’ve got to use the money from the scrapping of that train to open a Swiss bank account and once I get my kick back on the park sale, I’ll be set for life.”

“How ‘bout me?” asked the brother-in-law.

“Keep a lid on that trap of yours and you’ll get your cut,” promised the mayor.

“I sure hope so,” sighed his brother-in-law.

“You can trust me,” assured the mayor. “Didn’t I give you the city salvage contract even though that yard in Hillsboro made a better offer?”

“You sure did, Harvey.”

“Now sign this contract,” insisted the mayor. “It gives you permission to start cutting up that engine 7:00 Monday morning."

“But what about them kids, Harvey?”

“By the time school is out on Monday it’ll be too late. When they ask what happened I’ll just tell them that there was a mix up in the system. I’ll tell them that I’m real sorry and I’ll find the person or persons responsible.”
Milton could vaguely see through the curtain fabric. He could see the pair signing the contract. He then saw the brother-in-law look his way and step toward the window.

“He’s seen me,” he thought. “What do I do now.”

Milton’s heart pounded in his chest as the mayor’s brother-in-law approached him.

“Hey Harvey, your window’s open. I’ll close it for you.”

“Let that window alone!” snapped the mayor. “That’s what I pay a janitor to do.

Anyway I like the late afternoon air. Now here’s your copy of the contract and don’t let it get away from you. I’ll leave the original here on my desk where it’ll be safe. This building has the best security in town. Now, let’s get out of here.”

Milton breathed a sigh of relief as the two left the room. He waited for a moment then left his hiding place. He pulled the chair back into position in front of the bookcase and climbed to get the whistle. Upon pulling the whistle, Milton discovered that it was much heavier than it looked. The wooden stand scraped across the top of the shelf as he tugged at it with all his might. Upon reaching the edge of the shelf it fell into his arms. Milton staggered to the edge of the chair and fell. As he hit the floor the whistle and stand crashed through the seat of the chair. Just then the secretary entered her office.

“Is that you Mr. Mayor?” came her voice over the intercom.

“No. I’m out here came the mayor’s from the hallway.

“Uh oh, I’ve done it now,” Milton thought.

“Oh, I thought I heard a noise in your office,” called the secretary. “It sounded like something fell.”

Milton hefted the whistle to the window and returned the broken chair to its place. He ran to the mayor’s desk and snatched up the contract.

“This may come in handy,” he thought as he turned and ran back to the window.

Milton climbed out the window and reached back in for the whistle. As he strained to pull it over the window seal the stand caught on the curtain and down crashed curtain, rod, and all.

“There it is again,” said the secretary.

Milton dragged the instrument under a bush and covered it with straw.

“Whew!” he panted. “I’ve got to get some wheels for that thing.”

Milton dove under the bush when he heard the mayor’s voice come from the window.

“Look at my chair!” he bellowed. “That chair is an antique and now it’s ruined!”

The curtain rod protruded from where the seat had been giving the appearance that it had been the culprit.

”You should’ve let me close that window,” said the brother-in-law. “That must have been a strong wind.”

“Maintenance installed that rod not two weeks ago. Somebody’s head will roll Monday morning!” growled the mayor as he stormed from his office.

“He didn’t notice the whistle or the contract missing,” Milton thought as he watched the mayor leave the building and head for the parking lot.

As the mayor drove away Milton sprang to his bike and raced toward the park

“Where’s the whistle?” Sam asked as Milton rode up to the train.

“I ran into a bit of trouble at city hall,” Milton panted. “I could only manage to get it to a bush outside the mayor’s office. That thing must weigh a hundred pounds. Oh, you’re not going to believe what happened. While I was getting the whistle the mayor and his Brother-in-law came in.”

“Did they see you?” Sam asked.

“No. I hid behind the curtains. The mayor is going to open a Swiss bank account with the money from the scrapping of the engine. Then he’s going to get a million dollars when the park is sold.”

“What did I tell you?” Barney asked as he unrolled the fire hose toward the tender. “I knew Pugmyre was involved in this up to his eyebrows. I could smell the money.”

“And look what I have here,” said Milton as he pulled the contract from his pocket. “The proof is in the pudding.”

“What’s that?” asked Sam.

“Only the contract between the mayor and his brother-in-law to have the engine scrapped starting Monday morning. I just kinda’ thought it might come in handy,” smiled Milton.

“Oh, this is too good to be true,” laughed Sam as he danced around in a circle. “And he told the news that he didn’t know anything about this, the big jerk! What ever you do Milton, hang onto this. We may need it to save our own skins later but right now we’ve got to move fast. Here are the keys to my jeep. Take Mike with you and get the whistle back here as fast as you can. Barney and I are going to start filling the boiler.”

Sam handed the contract back to Milton and he and Mike were off like a shot. Just then Ralph drove up with a pickup truck loaded with firewood.

“Where did you get that?” Sam asked.

“Do you remember that vacant house over on Sims Street that had the large wood pile? Well, no more wood pile,” Ralph answered.

“I hate to tell you boys but that will barely warm the 5000 gallons of water that it’ll take to fill the boiler,” said Barney.

“But that’s a whole winters worth of firewood!” exclaimed Ralph.

“I know,” said Barney, “But that’s only a snack for this engine and she stays hungry.”

What looked like a large load of wood in the pickup was only a small stack in the tender. As the last log was loaded onto the tender the first gallons of water began flowing into the tender tank.

“Boy, this old hose has more leaks than the White House,” observed Ralph.

Just then Mike and Milton turned into the park and pulled along side the engine. Everyone joined in and helped wrestle the whistle out of the back of the jeep. Sam and Barney climbed onto the running board and Mike and Milton lifted the whistle to them. Barney removed the bean can from the steam pipe and coated the threads with pipe dope. With Mike and Milton on the left running board and Sam and Barney on the right they hefted the whistle onto its pipe and began to rotate it onto its threads. When the whistle came to a stop, the valve linkage lined up perfectly with its control rod. Barney found a nut and a bolt in his toolbox and fastened the valve and rod together. Sam jumped into cab and gave the whistle lever a pull. The linkage worked perfectly.

“Great!” Sam shouted. “Now we’ve got to get a lot of wood. I mean a LOT of wood.”

“They’re tearing down an old house over on River Road,” Mike suggested.

“Well, do what you have to do,” said Sam. “It’s getting late and we’ve got a lot to do.”

“I think I can get my uncle’s flat bed truck,” Milton offered.

“Good,” said Sam. “We’ve got to make every minute count.”
Mike, Milton, and Ralph took off for Milton’s uncle’s house.

“I’m getting hungry,” said Sam.

“Yeah, I could use a little something myself,” Barney admitted. “Here’s ten dollars. Go to the store and see if you can’t scare us up something to eat.”

“Won’t your wife be expecting you home for supper?”

“No. She’s at her sister’s so I’m an old bachelor for the weekend,” Barney chuckled. The tender’s about full and now we need to fill the boiler. I can handle that while you go to the store.”

Barney concocted a fitting to attach the fire hose to the rear blowoff valve and turned the water on to fill the boiler. He then climbed into the cab and pulled the whistle handle to allow air to escape as the boiler filled. In a little while Sam returned with hotdogs, buns, and charcoal. Sam found Barney in the cab watching the boiler water level glass.

“Watcha’ doing?” Sam asked.

“Do you see the water just coming into the glass? I’ve got to make sure the water covers the crown sheet but not so full it takes two days to heat all the water.”

“What’s the crown sheet?” Sam asked.

“That’s the top of the fire box. It’s where the hottest part of the fire is. It has to be covered with water at all times or the flames will melt the metal and the boiler will explode. That’s the thing I’m worried about. If the injectors don’t work we can’t keep filling the boiler as we make steam and if we can’t feed the boiler, we’re dead in the water. We can’t risk our lives with a boiler explosion.”

“They’ve got to work,” Sam insisted.

“I hope so,” said Barney. “Okay, shut off the water. That’s enough for now. It’s time to ‘boot the boiler’ as we used to say.”

“Is that like booting a computer?” Sam asked.

“Well, if that means starting the computer it’s the same.”

Sam filled the firebox with straw and twigs and small limbs and pulled the charcoal lighter fluid from his grocery bag. He doused the tinder with the lighter fluid and pulled a book of matches from his pocket.

“I feel like I’m starting a campfire,” said Sam. “This is quiet a moment. I wish I had a video camera. I guess this is the first flame in this firebox in almost 40 years.”

Sam struck his match and lit the fluid soaked straw and within seconds the firebox was in flames. White smoke began to drift from the stack when Sam saw Charlie Birdwell’s patrol car pull into the park’s north entrance.

“Here comes trouble,” he said.

“He’ll see the smoke!” said Barney.

“Let’s get to the grill,” Sam ordered. “I’ve got an idea.”

Sam piled a load of straw onto the grill closest to the engine shed. He lit a match and shoved into the bottom of the pile. In a moment a column of white smoke rose from the grill.

“Evening Barney, Sam,” said Charlie as he pulled into the picnic area. “Doing a little bar-b-que’n?”

“Oh, just cooking a few hot dogs,” Barney answered.

“Watch your fire, Sam. You’re smoking up the train shed. Why, if I didn’t know better I’d say smoke was coming out of the stack,” said the officer as he drove off.

“Whew! That was a close one,” said Sam.

Back into the cab they climbed to nurse their fire. Smoke was now coming from the firebox.

“We need a blower,” said Barney. “It fits into the stack and pulls air across the fire and creates a draft up the stack.”

Just then the boys pulled up with two truckloads of wood. Everyone pitched in to load the fuel onto the tender.

“I’m going to the cabinet shop,” Ralph called after they had emptied his truck. “There’s a huge bin with a million blocks and wood chips. They ought to burn like lumps of coal.”

“Look at this,” Barney called. We’re getting up steam.”

He pointed at the water level gauge where droplets of water were forming on the glass. In another moment the pressure gauge sprang to five pounds. Sam gave the whistle handle a pull. There was a slight hiss of steam and the gauge fell to zero.

“Don’t pull the whistle,” Barney cautioned. “It uses too much steam and if it did blow it would alert the whole neighborhood."

Sam went back to stoking the fire as the other boys went in search of more wood. Sam was pulling double duty. He was tending the fire in the locomotive and cooking hotdogs at the same time. Night was falling and they were quickly losing the light of day.

“What are we going to use for running lights?” asked Sam as he brought Barney a hotdog.

“There’s a steam driven dynamo behind the stack. I oiled it last week but it’s anyone’s guess if it’ll still work. We’d better carry some flashlights with us.”

The pressure gauge read fifty pounds and thin wisps of steam leaked from the valve packings when another load of wood arrived. As the boys were loading the fuel into the tender, Barney turned on the injector valve and listened. Pu-choo, Pu-choo, came the sound he was listening for.

“Ha, ha!” Barney shouted. “That’s half the battle. We can get feed water into the boiler.”

“Lawn chairs!” exclaimed Sam.
He had pitched in to help unload the truck when he uncovered two old wooden lawn chairs.

“Where did you get lawn chairs?”

“You said you needed wood and these are wood,” Ralph explained.

“All right everybody, listen up,” Sam instructed. “Everybody go home and get your camping gear and meet back here at 11:00. Ride your bikes back here and we’ll put them in the caboose. We’ve got the switch key and I’ll bring my walkie-talkies. We’ll camp out at the quarry tonight and peddle back to town in the morning. Barney, I’ll drive my jeep back and get you. Remember that this train leaves at 11:00 sharp. Tell your folks that we’re going camping, which is what we’re going to do, and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Next Saturday Chapter 8 of "The Great Locomotive Caper"

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