Peering into the storm, Karl waited patiently, ignoring the cold as best he could as the wind buffeted him and smoke raced by to his right.

He was watching for a landmark, a barn built close to the tracks, less than a quarter mile from the last turn before the straightaway heading north. Once clear of the turn, Karl would push the train as hard as he dared to deliver the supplies in a timely manner.

A few minutes passed, then the barn emerged from the storm as a shadow in the night, the familiar curve of its roof a welcome sight.

Enough was enough. Karl climbed down the pile and checked the coal tarp, then ducked back into the cab. It seemed a touch warmer than the air outside, but not much warmer.

He reached up and grasped the lanyard connected to the steam whistle and pulled one long and one short blast. The locomotive’s voice seemed lost in the storm, a plaintive cry for help to people sheltering in their cold homes.

At the rear of the train, John stepped on to the rear platform of the caboose and spun the large cast iron wheel connected to the brakes. Snow flew crazed patterns in the train’s wake to the single red light hanging from the wrought iron safety railing.

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In the cab, Karl felt the train stretching on the couplers with distinct jolts to the soles of his shoes. Gently he applied the air assist brakes for the entire train. The trick was to keep the tension of the caboose while slowing the train before the corner; with their momentum shifted, they could take the turn at speeds greater than a crawl.

The train tilted, Karl and Silas feeling their weight pulling to the right as the locomotive entered the turn. The two cups of coffee on the heat tray of the boiler tilted to match the force of the turn. Karl shifted his attention to the cups while he continued to apply the air brakes. The engine bogged down as it fought the turn and the brakes.

Looking at the steam gauge, Karl waited as the needle climbed into the red warning zone; he was pushing their luck, but this engine was only a few years old and not prone to steam leaks.

On the rear platform, John could feel the cars beginning to bunch up. He closed the brakes further, rewarded by sparks flying from under the caboose and into the turbulence.

The worse was over and the coffee returning to a level state.

Releasing the brake, Karl moved his hand to the throttle and pushed it forward to be rewarded by the deep thump of the engine fighting for speed. The power of the machine was palpable as he pulled the whistle lanyard once to signal John.

Waiting a few heartbeats, John spun the brake release, and the hard part was over. This train would cross the prairie despite the snow at a speed not normally used for a cargo train. He knew Karl was going to push the train faster; it was what John would have done had he been the engineer.