Clementine was moved to a coal mine miles away. It needed an engine to carry the coal to factories and connecting trains, who would then bring the coal to the shipyard. She liked the work, no matter how difficult it was. 

One evening, an extremely long train was shunted onto her line.

“It consists of both coal and rocks,” said the mine owner, “New regulation says you have to bring both from now on.”

“It’ll be heavy, but I think I can do it,” Clementine replied as she connected to the train. Her fireman kept the pressure up, not letting off steam.

“We’ll need a lot of power to get over the hill, might as well start strong,” he called.

“As long as you keep me from bursting,” she whispered to herself. The conductor blew his whistle, and she left with a jolt.

Clementine was speeding along the line. The extra pressure helped her, until she reached the big hill.

“We Can make it,” said the driver, “it’ll be a struggle but we can.”

He was right. Clementine struggled and struggled, the cars barely moving. It wasn’t hopeless though, because inch by inch she climbed the hill. The conductor ran ahead of the line with buckets of sand.

“I’ll spread these in front of you,” he said, “hopefully it’ll help.”

When she moved over it, climbing the hill was like child's play. She could climb the hill quickly, leaving the conductor behind. He called out to her, but she didn’t notice. She eventually got over the top, and slowly rushed down.

“Steady now,” said her driver, “We don’t want to derail at deadman’s curve.”

“We won’t,” she replied, “We’re going slow enough to stay on the line.”

She wasn’t however. She started to brake, slowing down. The caboose needed to apply it’s brakes too, but it didn’t. She tipped over, as the coal and stones pushed her along the grass. Her tender was damaged, as were her pistons, but her driver and fireman were okay.

“Where’s the conductor?” Asked the fireman, “The caboose is crushed.”

“Over there!” Called the driver. The conductor ran up over the hill, seeing the crash below. 

It took weeks to clear the whole mess. Clementine was too far away from the line for a normal crane to get. A fleet of road trucks and construction vehicles were used to move her close enough.

“She’s too damaged to be worth it,” said the owner of the mine, “We’ll have to sell her and get a replacement.”

So it was settled.

Back at the museum, Timothy sat next to her.

“They sold me to a scrap yard,” Clementine said, “eventually I was sold to the museum. It took years to repair me, but they did. I mostly take small tours of the land, but sometimes I get a big run in. The staff here call me a fine old engine.”

“That’s good,” Timothy said. The two engines stayed up talking for the night, until Timothy left the next morning.