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turn north and tackle the heavy grades toward plunged into serious trouble as the crippled loco-
Tehachapi Summit. The activity in the hot spa- motive crunched to rest on her right side in a
cious cab had settled down to routine chores and choking cloud of steam and dust. In an act of
the brilliant pulsing glare at the throbbing fire- self-preservation, the fireman hooked his left leg
door reflected from the cluster of brass-bound over his arm rest as the heavy three-cylinder
gauges that covered the sloping back head of the 4-10-2 ploughed into the ballast and his gauntleted
huge boiler. Bob had . his fire adjusted at the hand tightly gripped the grab-iron above the canvas
proper rate to take care of the engine loading now, window awning. This calm, cool thinking pre-
and both men relaxed in anticipation of the long vented his falling to the right side of the sliding
drag up the heavy grades ahead. locomotive, and perhaps from being ground to
About 7:55 P.M., when they were thundering pulp under the bulk of the 225 ton monster. As the
toward Honby siding, a very strange thing happen- boiler tore into the rising embankment alongside
ed.. They were running about 25 miles-per-hour the railroad, the exposed outside front end throttle
because of the tight curves. Engineer Ball had rigging was caught and pulled rearward causing
just reached down to make his final adjustment the huge locomotive's cylinders to again be filled
with the reverse lever to regulate his power for with steam.
speed setting. Fowler made the corresponding The helpless steamer lay with spinning drivers
change in his fire by means of his oil regulating churning away on her right side like a stricken
valve in time to keep the flames from kicking animal in its final death throes. What a fearful
out the fire-door. As the big rigid locomotive eased sight this must have been ... a flailing locomotive
into a left hand curve, unfamiliar motion gripped lying on its boiler, throttle wide open, and with
the action of the engine. Instantly the engine crew no possible chance for anyone to close it. The
knew something was wrong. As they looked along whole scene was shrouded in clouds of roaring
the length of the huge boiler, the headlight and steam because the boiler blow-off valve had been
cylinders danced crazily and a torrential cascade torn from the right side of the firebox when it
of fire and red hot sparks shot back from under the ripped into the ground. This powerful jet of high-
spinning drivers. As their world fell out from under- pressure steam and scalding water was deflected
neath them, 5042 slid onto the ties with an un- into the cab, seriously burning the trapped engineer.
nerving surge. Instantly the big Southern Pacific Superheated steam pipes ruptured in the displaced
Class engine proceeded to grind up the track fix- cab, adding their deadly hot vapors of hissing
tures in an awesome display of fireworks that was steam to the catastrophe. Dick Ball was in a
more appreciated on the Fourth of July. deadly situation as he found himself trapped be-
In the churning cab the maze of controls was tween his seatbox and the front of 5042's crushed
but a blur to the "hogger" who somehow found cab with no route of escape. Fowler clung to the
the H-6 automatic brake valve and quickly placed outer surface of the wildly surging cab as the
the handle in emergency position. The response vibrating engine tried to destroy itself in a fit
was immediate as the cab filled with the explosive of unregulated frustration. Bob well knew that if
report of the emergency application. Engineer he was thrown from his perch into the spinning
Ball quickly slammed the throttle into the closed drivers and lashing valve gear he would be torn
position, his gloved hand scribing a vicious arc into a million pieces.
toward the boiler head. This last violent action After what seemed an eternity, the pressures
was done in the manner well reminiscent of the of the boiler fell below the value necessary to
prize ring tradition. The increasing violence of power the drivers of the big SP-3 engine, and
the three-cylinder locomotive's transit along the she finally died, accepting the undignified fate
ties indicated to the engine crew that she was she so little deserved. Bob Fowler then stepped
hellbent to turn herself over. Their suspicions from the sides of the cab across the open gangway
were promptly confirmed as the undulating loco- and cautiously crawled along the slippery sides
motive gave a sickening roll to the right, throwing of the massive Vanderbuilt tender until he reached
Dick Ball into the front corner of his cab. As the rear end of the huge tank. There on the ground
the right side of the boiler and cab tore into the beneath him he recognized Ed Crumply, a dead-
right-of-way, the impact ripped the cab braces heading engineer who had come up from the coaches
to the boiler loose, and the air was permeated with to help the crew of the derailed locomotive. Ed
the acrid odor of hot crude oil and burning steel. invited the "tallerpot" down to terra again, and
Bob Fowler instantly rammed the oil regulating in his haste, Bob failed to notice that the canted
valve, pulling the fire from the boiler, thus elimi- tender was suspended high above the tom roadbed.
nating chances of firing the wreckage. In just a As he slid down the rounded sides of the tender
matter of seconds, proud, stately train No. 59 was at an ever increasing speed, he realized that he was

THREE BARRELS OF STEAM 38