Steven was upset one morning. Arnold and Edgar were teasing him.

“You’re little more than a shunter!” Edgar laughed.

“And a dock shunter at that!” Arnold added, “You have no reason to be at a station yard.”

“I’m just as strong as you are!” He complained.

“Yet you haven’t taken any heavy trains.”

“But he’s the best shunter on our line,” said the controller, “And is needed at the coal mine. There’s a mess there, you’ll have to help clean it up. Cleo will be there to help.”
“Yes sir,” Steven said, “Who however is-”

The controller cut him off, “Good, by on your way then.”

Steven arrived at the mine, tired from the journey. However he snapped back awake when he saw the mess.

“What on earth happened here?” He asked. 

“It’s not that bad,” answered a voice “I can’t see the track in front of me, could you do better?”

“Who’s there?” Steven called in a panic. 

“It’s just me,” the voice replied. A small engine rolled over to him. She was a diesel who sat on two smaller rails, and her coupling could be raised or lowered. 

“My, Arnold would stop calling me small if they saw you.”

“They can call me whatever they want,” said the engine, “What might your name be?”

“I’m Steven,” he replied, still confused, “Who are you?”

“Cleo,” said the engine, “The workers here call me hotshot.”

“How do you move around on such a small track?”

“Like your track is any better,” Cleo teased, “You have to take such wider turns. It’s a surprise you even have a yard to work on.”

“I might have trouble turning,” Steven rebutted, “But you haven’t seen me shunt.”

He then went over to some cars, moved them to the stop and started organizing them. Cleo raised her coupling and started helping. 

By the time they were finished everything looked better. The narrow gauge cars were closer to the narrow gauge line, and they were separated by conditions only Cleo and Steven knew. Timothy came into the yard ready to take some cars to the harbor. 

“The line looks better,” said Timothy, “Glad you were able to clean it up.”

“I’d have to agree,” said another engine. He was substantially smaller than Timothy, but was still quite large.

“I’m able to be faster as well,” Cleo answered happily, “I’ll get you your cars.”

“That little hotshot,” Timothy said, “Its surprise she hasn’t hit you Jack.”

“I’ve been hit by many things,” replied the other engine, “That diesel won’t do too much damage.”

Timothy and the other engine were attached to their trains, and left in unison.