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About this book

Engine 331, the biggest mountain passenger-train puller on the Nevada Short Line, was a Pacific-type compound, with a bewildering clutter of machinery underneath that made a wiper's job a sort of puzzle problem; the problem being to get the various gadgets clean without knocking one's head off too many times against the down-hanging machinery. Larry Donovan, mopping the last of the gadgets as the shop quitting-time whistle blew, called it a day's work, flung down his handful of oily waste and crawled out of the concrete pit. Grigg Dunham, fireman of the 246, which was standing next door to the 331, leaned out of his cab window. "'Lo, Blackface!" he grinned. "Time to go home and eat a bite o' pie."