A screaming whistle, approaching quickly from some distant place, shocked Brett out of a peaceful slumber. At first he didn’t know where he was or what was happening. He looked at the sleeping form beside him, then to the window nearby. It was dark outside. There was that noise again. The other boy turned in his sleep. The dim features of his face looked familiar. Then Brett remembered.

He crawled out of bed carefully so as not to disturb Jason. Stepping slowly, he moved to the window as the southbound freight rumbled past. Subconsciously he counted the cars as they clicked over the rail joints, sixteen in all. It was quiet again. Brett sat by the window awhile, then crept back to bed.

About an hour passed. Activity began at the yards and the noise of engines chugging about and of squealing metal drifted in the window. Brett lay awake listening. A growing sense of excitement churned inside. Today he would see his father. Until yesterday, the trip had been so dull and uneventful. But the time Brett had spent with Jason and the new friendship he had found had turned his stay in Arlee into an adventure of sorts, or maybe the beginning of a whole summer of adventure.

“You awake?” Jason spoke quietly. 

“Yea. Saw the freight go by at four. What’s happening now?”

“The yard crews are gettin’ the engines fired. They’re puttin’ on coal and puttin’ in water. There’ll be a lot o’ action ’round here for the next several hours.”

“How much can we see?” Brett inquired.

“I hafta help with chores ’til breakfast is cleaned up. Then we can go over to the station and watch.”

The boys dressed, made up the bed, and went on down to the kitchen.

“Morn’n, Ma. Is Pa out back?”

“He’s splittin’ wood.”

“Can I help?” asked Brett.  

“Sure. Gatta fill the wood box and the water reservoir.”

In the wood yard Hank Johnston was splitting cord wood.  He was a tall sturdy man with long dark hair matted with sweat.  The ax was buried in the chopping block as Mr. Johnston stopped working to meet Brett.

“Pa, this is Brett Tompkins.  His pa runs Stewart Creek Company. This is my pa.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.”

“Same here, Brett. Jason’s ma tells me you two have become good friends. We’re glad to have ya stayin’ with us. Why don’t you boys hurry up with the firewood and I’ll take care of the water.  That way you can have early breakfast and have some extra time together ‘fore Brett’s train leaves.”

“Thanks, Pa.”

“Thanks, Mr. Johnston.  Come on. Show me where it goes.”

The wood box was quickly filled.  After breakfast Brett thanked the Johnstons for letting him stay with them. With his hat in his hand, he and Jason gathered his bags and went across to the station. There was lots of activity as the various trains came in. Jamming his hat on top of his head, Brett left his belongings on a bench while he watched.

The train from Summit came in. While the engine was in the yard taking on fuel and water and being turned around, Tom Jennings and his crew changed over the freight cars and spotted the train at the station. The engine returned from the yard and the Summit train moved into the pass track. Since Arlee was the center of transfer for the various branches, all morning trains had to meet to exchange passengers and freight cars. The train came in from Snow Shoe, dropped an empty baggage car, unloaded, had its engine turned, then moved onto the pass track with the train for Summit. Number twenty-eight moved the car to the yard.