//------------------------------//
// Sticking Power 
// Story: Thomas and Friends: More Tales from Sodor 
// by The Blue EM2 
//------------------------------//

The holiday season on Sodor was drawing to a close, and truth be told Bert wasn't feeling in the best of shape. Rex and Mike, per usual, were not especially sympathetic.

"Poor old Bert!" Rex laughed one morning, as the engines were readied for service. "A shame he's out of puff. No stamina, these youngsters have!"

"Yoda are we?" asked Pip.

"What you need, Bert," Mike snorted, "is determination and sticking power."

"That's easy for you to say," Bert retorted. "You're only 49. I'm a lot older than you. Besides, sticking power be stuffed. I may be old, but at least I don't send my whistle flying into fields!"

That shut Mike up. But Twist spoke up for him. "He couldn't help that! Bethides, the pathengers helped us get home by playing audio of thteam whithleth!"

Rex looked over. "Twist, we were there. We remember it all too well."

Featherweight, who up to this point had said nothing, suddenly spoke up. "Bert has a point, you know," he said. "He does seem to be steaming very poorly. I'll go see Mr Duncan and ask him to order some new tubes for the winter refit." As he tooked Bert out of the shed and to his train, he spoke much more quietly. "Keep it under your dome, Bert, but rumour has it that we have a new engine on the way. He'll be quite handy if any of you break down!"

Bert ran surprisingly well that day. His tubes got a clean that morning, which helped a little, but even so he still felt absolutely rotten. The steep gradients and heavy trains certainly didn't help, and Bert was unhappy.

He felt better by the afternoon, however. He brought his train into Arlesdale End with a smile. The run hadn't been too bad, even with a fully loaded train packed full of holidaymakers, and he was only running 5 minutes late. The passengers dived out of the carriages and rushed for the tea rooms, keen to get their hands on ice cream and cups of tea (the sausage rolls had sold out again). Bert moved eagerly onto the turntable, and was turned on the turntable, so he was now facing the right way. He then moved forward, through the loop, and backed down onto the coaches. He seemed happier still.

"We've got time for a good breather!" he said. "It's a good thing this timetable is gentle, and we've mostly got a flat run back!"

"Indeed," Featherweight replied, taking out a rag and doing some momentary polishing. The timetable on the Arlesdale Railway has periods known as 'breathers' built into it. A train will always wait at one end for a set amount of time. This period can be adjusted if the train is running late. Normally, this period is 20 minutes, but if the train is running late, the five minutes are factored in and the wait cut to 15 minutes.

After 15 minutes had elapsed, the passengers reboarded the train, and the guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag. "Here we go!" Bert called.

Just outside of Arlesdale End is a steep hill, which the engines have to climb to reach a level gradient. If Bert could get safely through the climb, he was home free back to Arlesburgh West. He set off with a roar, smoke and steam blasting from his funnel as the coaches began to move.

"Hey! Take it easy!" Featherweight called. "We're not pulling the Royal Scot!"

"We might as well be with this weight!" Bert replied, as he exited the station and began the climb. The weight of the coaches suddenly pulled on his drawbar, and he responded by puffing harder still. "Come on! I'm not stalling here!"

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and everything seemed easier. But Featherweight brought him to a stop. "Oh dear!" he said. "Back we go! We left the coaches behind!"

Bert reversed into the platform and stopped, looking behind him at the mess. "What happened?" he asked.

"Well," Featherweight started, "the coupling on the coach attached to the tender snapped, and this caused the train to roll backwards into the platform. It's a good thing the brakes apply automatically in the event of a train break, or who knows what would've happened!"

"They'd have rolled into the buffers and stopped," the guard said. "Still, we'll have to stick around until somebody can get us a new one."

Bert fumed. "I know what Rex and Mike would say about that," he fumed. "They'd say I lacked sticking power!"

Featherweight had a brainwave. "Bert, you've given me an idea!" he said. "Do you remember that time when Wilbert moved a truck with coils of wire?"

"Yes," Bert replied. "Do we have any wire?"

"No, but we'll use the next best thing," Featherweight replied, suddenly producing a bottle of something. "We'll use metal glue! This stuff can stick everything!"

"Whoever heard of a train that was glued together?" Bert asked, incredulously. But then an idea flew into his funnel. "Haha," he smiled. "That'll stop their teasing."

After a few minutes, the glue had dried, and the train was ready to set off. "Go easy, Bert!" Featherweight called. "The passengers already know what has happened, and they understand we may not be back on time. What matters most is that they get home safe."

Bert was worried the glue wouldn't hold as they went over the hill, but it not only held, it stuck fast. The run from then on was easy, and when he got into Arlesburgh West the passengers cheered and congratulated him on a spectacular run. That night, Mike and Rex rolled into the shed, looking quite tired.

"What a day!" said Mike. "Thank Bassett-Lowke we're not that busy every day!"

Bert grinned as he watched Twist and Pip get their engines ready for bed. "You younger engines clearly lack sticking power!" he said, and he told them the story. "Oh well," he finished. "Good night."

Rex looked stunned. "Well, remind me not to mock him for poor steaming in future," he remarked. "Truly we are a useful railway."

"Indeed!" Mike added. "Never overlook a little engine!"