The Iron Box

I stepped down from the freight car sill onto the crushed ballast. Footing confirmed stable. Bolted to a low rail stanchion stood an iron inspection box. Its hasp was secured by a braided wire loop. Step one: bypass the fastener. Bracing my boots against the timber tie, I gripped the loop with both gauntlets. A firm downward wrench sheared the brittle copper. The hinged lid creaked open. Inside lay a set of steel feeler gauges inside a waxed leather sleeve. Intact. Zero corrosion along the blades. I slipped the thinnest leaf between the burner nozzle shroud and the feed collar. Exactly one millimeter clearance. Clean fit. I stowed the gauge into my gear webbing.