Free The Iron Dragon Never Sleeps by Stephen Krensky

“
W HOOOOOOOO !
”
    Winnie Tucker jumped. The shrill blast of the train whistle had surprised her. Then she blushed. Only babies and cats were scared of train whistles.
    She looked around quickly. Had anyone noticed? Her mother was reading a newspaper. The rest of the train car was mostly empty. Four men sat dozing, their heads slumped on their chests. A young woman rocked a baby in her arms.
    Across the aisle, though, a man was grinning at her. He had a scraggly gray beard and a scuffed hat. Winnie’s grandfathers both had looked like that. They had been miners. Maybe this man was a miner, too.
    “A bit loud, eh?” he said.
    “A little,” Winnie admitted. Actually she was in awe of the train. The great locomotive up front, eating fire and breathing steam, was like an iron dragon chained to the track.
    “First train ride?” the man asked.
    “Uh-huh.”
    Her mother put down the newspaper. “The first for both of us,” she said.
    The man tipped his cap. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m Jack Perkins. But call me Flap Jack. Everybody does.”
    “Why is that?” Winnie asked.
    “On account of my favorite food. After panning for gold all day, I can eat a stack a mile high.”
    I was right
, thought Winnie.
He is a miner.
    Winnie’s mother smiled. “Well, Flap Jack, I’m Marjorie Tucker. This is my daughter, Winnie. We’re on our way to Cisco.”
    “Going to Cisco myself,” said Flap Jack. “To visit my brother. He’s the Stationmaster there.”
    The train wheels squealed as the train rounded a curve. This time Winnie didn’t jump.
    Flap Jack looked out the window. “Making good time, I see.”
    Winnie pressed her nose against the glass. Flap Jack was right. The train was going fast. The trees and orchards of the California countryside were flying by. The conductor had boasted that the trainsometimes went as fast as twenty-five miles an hour. It was hard to believe.
    Winnie and her mother had left Sacramento early that morning. Winnie’s best friends, Rose and Julia, had come down to the station to say good-bye.
    “Three months,” Rose had moaned. “That’s longer than forever.”
    Julia had nodded sleepily. “She will get to live in a hotel, though.”
    “Not a hotel,” Winnie had reminded them. “A rooming house.”
    “Well, it won’t be the same summer without you,” Rose insisted.
    Winnie had sighed at the time, and she sighed again now. What Rose had said was true. And she was going to miss them, she knew that.
    Still, she was excited. In a few hours she’d be with her father again. She hadn’t seen him in months. He was a mining engineer for the Central Pacific Railroad. It was a job that kept him on the move.
    This summer, though, he was living in Cisco. At first, when her mother had suggested they come stay with him, he had been against the idea. “Cisco’s no place for a girl like Winnie,” he had written. Her mother had then written back: “Considering how little you’ve seen of her lately, how can you judge what Winnie is like these days?”
    In the end he changed his mind.
    Her mother patted Winnie’s shoulder. “We’ll be meeting Papa before you know it.”
    “Do you think he grew his beard again?” Winnie asked.
    Her mother laughed. Eli Tucker hated to shave. His stubble was stiffer than a boar’s hide, he complained. Whenever he traveled, he always managed to lose his straight-edge razor.
    “Tickets! Tickets, please!”
    The conductor was lurching his way up the car. He looked very grand, with his frock coat, stiff collar, and bow tie.
    “Tickets?”
    Winnie held hers up to the conductor.
    “I’ve done yours already, miss,” he reminded her. “One punch to a customer.”
    He punched a hole in Flap Jack’s ticket.
    “All bound for Cisco, eh?” said the conductor.
    “We’re going to see my father,” said Winnie. “He’s working on the Summit Tunnel. Maybe you know him—Eli Tucker?”
    The conductor shook his head. “Those fellows don’t get back