HISTORY OF A 110 CASE

the barn burned. It took the paint off the right rear wheel and the
flywheel. Not long after the fire, Joe Holtz got the 110 and did
contract plowing. It broke sod on the Rosebud flat. It was about 30
miles west of Miles City on Interstate 94. It is now the Clifford
Wright Ranch. It did some plowing on the 20 Ranch on Rosebud
Creek.

Dad was threshing a couple miles from there at the time. When he
finished threshing he was moving to the creek crossing; the 110 was
coming the other way and it was to use the same crossing. It was
the only crossing in ten miles. It was a race I guess. Well, the
110 got there first, but the engineer got a little to one side and
there she stood on her head. Dad unhooked from the huller while
they pulled the fire on the 110. Dad hooked on the plow and pulled
it back, then hooked on to the 110 Case. He broke a bull pinion on
the 25-75 Case. Dad took a team and wagon and went to Forsyth which
was about twenty miles. There he wired Billings for a new pinion.
Before he left he told them to drain the boiler and tanks and wrap
a rope around the flywheel and hook a team on it. He left his men
to jack up the 75 Case and take off the wheel and broken pinion.
The next morning the new pinion was there. He picked it up and
drove back. They had the 110 out with the team and rope and were
filling the boiler with water when he got there.

Joe Holtz sold it to a man by the name of Bower who used it for
a year or so. Then it was sold to a man by the name of Milligan. He
had it moved to Tongue River a distance of about 45 miles. Going up
the Rosebud Road it went through a bridge and broke the end off the
lower canon bearing. As the story goes it took about two or three
days to get it out. Then it went on to Tongue River where it was
put on an 18-inch pump. I am not sure how long it ran the pump. I
believe it was the early 20s when they quit.

They had left water in the boiler and my brother, Claude rode
over horseback and drained it before the weather got cold. It was
about eight miles from home through the hills. Then he decided he
wanted it because the old 25-75 Case was getting in bad shape. The
spokes were stripping out of the hubs on the rear wheels. There was
an old 32-110 about 15 miles south of the town of Rosebud that had
been abandoned. Claude went and looked at that too. He wanted to
see if the cannon bearing would fit and it did, so he went on into
Miles City to see Roy Milligan. Roy said he would sell it for
$750.00 and Claude said it was too much money so he forgot the idea
and the engine sat there until 1934.

My uncle wanted an engine to pump with and my other brother,
Paul, who was working for him at the time, told him the 110 would
be a good engine. So they went to look at it. The riverbank had
washed back so close you couldn’t walk around in front of it.
It was about 20 feet straight down to the water. They left to find
Milligan and told him the 110 was about to go into the river.
Milligan told them to take it and pay him whatever he thought it
was worth. Next day Paul and my uncle came down in a model B Ford
pickup. They got a stacker rope and along with my brother, Floyd,
my dad and myself, (yes, I got to go too) we went to look it over.
We got there and looked things over all the while wondering if any
movement might make it cave off. They wrapped the rope around the
flywheel and hooked on the model B. My uncle was driving. The old
flywheel went to turning and the engine moved back about four feet.
The pickup hit the end of the rope; the rear wheels came plum off
the ground. We were pretty happy it didn’t cave off. They kept
wrapping the flywheel pulling it until we got it back about sixty
feet. There was a coal bunker lid on the smoke stack with a brand
new clutch pinion on it for weight. In moving it back it was just
about to fall off when we noticed it. Paul and Floyd were looking
it over to see what all had to be done. Most all of the pipes were
gone. About half of the spokes were gone from the left rear wheel;
the boiler jacket was hanging loose. Claude had taken the whistle
and safety valve so the brass hunters wouldn’t get them.

In 1929 the Yellowstone River was washing the bank really bad in
the town of Rosebud. So they had hired a couple of Cats to pull the
old 32-110 in for riprap. I was told the Cats were two tons. They
had quite a time starting it. They hooked one Cat on each rear
wheel because it had sank in the dirt. They did the same to get it
up the steep hills then one holding to go down. It took about a
week to get it into town. They buried a dead man on the bank,
fastened a cable to it and the drawbar then pushed it into the
river.

To get spokes Paul went to Rosebud and got spokes out of the old
32-110. He said the ice did a lot of damage to it. Paul and Floyd
loaded up jacks, blocks and tools in a Dodge Ford truck. (It was
made up with a Dodge engine and transmission, 1925 model, and Ford
truck rear and worm drive and rocky mountain transmission.) They
went to work on the 110. They pulled the rear wheels; used a piece
of 6′ pipe the right length for the end of the can nor bearing
that was broken off, and an 8′ over the 6′ and babbitted
between them. They worked on it 4 or 5 days. Then Claude went over
to help. That is when I got to go again. I was 11 years old. I was
sure excited because I was going to see the 110 run. When we got
there Paul and Floyd had just gotten a tank of water, so we started
washing the boiler. Pack rats had built nests in it. There was also
cactus and sticks. I was small enough to crawl between the spokes
so my job was to dig the sticks and cactus out of the hand holes.
It took about three tanks of water to get it washed out. One time I
was starting to crawl in the rear wheel while Claude was doing the
washing with the hose. He hollered, ‘Look out, there’s a
snake.’ I tore the wheel apart getting out. None of us had seen
a snake like it! Our uncle said it must be a snake of the United
States because it had red, white and blue rings around it. We found
out later it was a King snake.

When we went to putting in the hand pole plates we were short
one for over the firebox, but were able to fill it with water. Our
old 25-75 sat about 12 miles east from where we were. Claude and
Paul got in the old Dodge pickup and I got to go with them again. I
was pretty excited. I was going to see the old Case. That is what
we called it. I hadn’t seen it since 1928. It was dark before
we got there. Dad had moved the sawmill in there in 1926. We used
the 22 horse undermounted Avery, but the flues went bad in it so
they moved the 25-75 Case. Then the rear wheels were so bad they
didn’t move it back home. I can remember it well, it was all
together; just had to put water in the boiler and it was ready to
go.

There was a big slab and sawdust pile there. We were pretty
careful because there was a lot of rattle-snakes around. We
didn’t hear any that night and we got a hand hole plate. We
looked around for something to put in the hand hole to keep the
snakes out. I think they used a pitch knot. I remember it as a big
engine, but it looked small after being around the 110.

We started back and there was a bad storm building up lots of
lightning. Before we got back to the 110 the wind came and blew
dust so bad you couldn’t see. We had to stop for a while and
when we got back to the 110 there wasn’t anyone there. Floyd
and Uncle Harry were gone but before long we saw a car light and it
was our uncle. He told us that when the storm hit the wind and dust
were so bad they just got the camp supplies and left.

Well, there were two preachers staying at the Brandenberg
school-house so that is where they went for shelter. We all went to
the school-house and our Uncle Harry cooked supper. I asked Paul
where Floyd was, as it was pretty dark in there and I couldn’t
see him. There was someone in bed on the floor and I asked Paul if
that was Floyd and he said no that it was one of the preachers and
that I had to sleep there with him. Then supper was ready and while
we were eating I was figuring out how I could get out of sleeping
with the preacher. After supper I went out and lay down in the seat
of the old Dodge. I figured if I could get to sleep maybe they
would leave me alone. It wasn’t long before Claude came out and
told me to come in and go to bed. I said I was not going to sleep
with the preacher. He asked me who had told me that I had to and I
said Paul. He thought it was funny, but said I didn’t have to
do that and that it was Floyd that I had seen in the bed. They got
him up and we fixed the bed and all five of us slept in the same
bed crossways.

The next morning we cooked our breakfast outside again and moved
our camp back to the 110. Claude and Paul went to work on the
engine, The tank top was rusted out so Floyd put a floor board in
it. About noon Claude started the engine and the throttle or the
governor didn’t work right; then they had to set the valve. It
was late afternoon when they put the clutch in and made a circle.
They hooked the tank wagon on behind for water. The tender was
rusted out. There was another problem my three brothers and uncle
had run out of tobacco. That made them all grouchy, but we started
out. Claude was running the engine and Paul was firing. It was dark
when we got to the schoolhouse so that is where we stopped. They
were really needing some tobacco by then, so Paul and Floyd said
they would go to the Wolf ranch and stay there for the night.
Claude, Uncle Harry and myself headed for home. Paul and Floyd said
they would fire up and haul water in the morning. We were also
getting low on camp supplies. We got up the road away and saw a
light; Claude said it was coming from Horton’s sheep wagon and
that he bet he would have some tobacco so we drove in. Claude and
Harry knew the herder and, yes, he had plenty of tobacco. He also
told us we could fix something to eat. We did and it sure tasted
good! We all felt so good after the meal and tobacco that we
decided not to go home so we went back to the 110 and went to
bed.

Next thing I heard was the whistle. Steam was up and so was the
sun and breakfast was ready. Claude had fired up about daylight and
it wasn’t long until we heard the old Dodge Ford coming. Paul
and Floyd said they had just finished breakfast and stepped outside
when they heard the whistle.

Well we got started and on our way. Uncle Harry went for
groceries and tobacco. Floyd was firing. We had to travel about
five miles on the country road then cut through the hills. The
steam got up to 160 but it wouldn’t pop. Someone had screwed
the adjustment way down. Claude said it must have been set for
about 180. We made it through the hills okay and got about two
miles from home that day. The next day we got home with it; then
belted it to the pump to irrigate the potatoes. Claude was going to
use the 22 Avery but he had to help with the 110. So, seeing as
they had the 110 going they used it. It took about an hour with the
six-inch pump. When they moved it away from the pump Claude said
the crankshaft would have to be re-babbitted.

They went back to Rosebud to the old 32-110. They took off the
flywheel, clutch arm and pinion. I remember the clutch arm was
broken. It had a plate riveted on it to hold it together. It took
three or four days before they got it going again. It was late in
the afternoon when Claude and Paul run it up to our yard. The next
day they washed the boiler and tried to get me to crawl in the
wheel to dig out in the hand hole. I was afraid there might be a
snake in there. Uncle Harry had a man working for him by the name
of Nick. While I was being coaxed into the wheel, Nick was doing
pumping on the tank on the other side from us, but at that time was
resting. Uncle Harry got the hose and aimed over the boiler at Nick
and hollered ‘pump Nick.’ That shot of water hit him just
under his hat brim and knocked it off his head. We all got a good
laugh out of that.

The next day Claude and Floyd moved it to Uncle Harry’s
place and Paul ran the water truck. It was about a 15 mile trip and
it took all day. The next day they pumped about half a day and ran
out of water. Paul and Floyd ran it a time or two after that. Then
it sat until the fall of 1936. Uncle Harry had Claude and Floyd ran
it to pull out some stumps.

About the same time the Cheyenne Indian agency was starting up a
saw mill. It consisted of a #3 Howell mill, three saw edger and
swinging cut off saw belted to a 16 HP Russell. It was short on
power so they asked my uncle about the 110. They made a deal that
he take the Russell to use and they take the 110 and give him
$12.50 a month. No one would run the 110 on the road so they pulled
the Russell to where the 110 set with a 65 gas Cat (about 8 miles).
They pulled the key on left pinion and hooked the 110 and pulled it
to the mill. They had a lot of trouble with firemen. There was not
a steam engineer among them and it got to leaking steam so bad the
Indians wouldn’t work around it.

In the spring of 1938 the superintendent for the Indians came to
see Claude. He told him that if he would fix the 110 that he would
have a steady job as long as the saw mill was running. The engine
and saw mill were all shedded. The 110 was in an awful shape; half
of the flues were leaking; main valve on dome was leaking where it
bolted on. The elbow from the cylinder to the heater was broken
off; grated burned out. Claude told the superintendent it would
have to be rebuilt. He told Claude if he could make it run to saw
10,000 feet of bridge plank for the road department, they would get
him the parts he needed to fix it right. It took about three days
work to get it so they could saw. After the plank was sawed, they
shut down for the rebuilding. Claude had three Indians cleaning and
scraping grease. The crank-disk was loose on the shaft, so that was
sent to a machine shop and rebuilt. He ordered new piston rings,
connecting rod brasses, oil pump, governor, grates, and injector.
The sleeve on the clutch was worn so badly it had to be babbitted.
He poured a new main bearing, after he got it to run. The
superintendent could not believe the difference in the 110. Claude
kept it wiped off everyday. The Indians were still afraid of it.
Once they were sawing a lot of small logs, Claude said he let the
water get pretty high, then a big log was rolled on. Well, the old
110 pulled over or primed. The drawbar and tanks were taken off and
you stood on the ground to fire it. By the time he crawled up over
the two cannon-bearings to the throttle there was not one Indian
left in the mill shed. There were about 12 or 14 working there most
of the time. Another time the governor belt came off and that
cleared the mill shed again.

The Government bought the 110 from my uncle about the time it
was rebuilt. They paid him $175.00 for it. They brought the Russell
back and put it right behind the 110 and belted it to a planner. In
1942 it was shut down and never run again. Claude and I went there
in 1947 to look things over. I picked up the smoke stack; it had
been laying alongside of the shed. It had been taken off when the
shed was built. They put a piece of twelve culbert twenty feet long
for a smoke stack. Claude said, ‘What are you going to do with
that? I said some day I’m going to own that engine (and I
do).

In 1952 I was working in southern Wyoming on road construction.
I came home over Labor Day weekend and as I was going through Lame
Deer, I stopped to look at the 110 Case as I always did whenever I
was close to Lame Deer. The shed was torn down and everything was
in the open. The first thing I saw was a big S put on with green
paint on the smokebox. As a matter of fact every thing had a big S
on it. I checked around and found out that every thing was going
for scrap to the highest bidder. I told Claude the deal and he
said, ‘you don’t want that engine, it’s too
clumsy.’ I only had a day and I had to be going back to work.
There was a man in Lame Deer who said he would let me know when it
came up for bid. I never heard from him. It was late October when I
quit and came back to Montana and as I drove into Lame Deer at a
gas station there was the Russell sitting on a truck. I drove over
to where it was and I think I was out of the car before it stopped.
I asked who bought the engine. They said a junk dealer in Forsyth.
I drove on home. The next morning I was in Forsyth looking for a
junk dealer and I found the man. I asked him if he would sell the
110 and he said yes. I asked how much and he said $10.00 a ton and
it weighs ten tons. Well it goes without saying he got $100.00
right quick. I sure felt good that I had finally gotten what I had
been dreaming of.

I then went to work for an outfit five days a week. On my two
days off I would work on the 110. All the pipes were gone except
the water column which Claude had mounted on the back of the
firebox where it was easier to see. I put it back on the side and
Claude helped. We put the smoke stack on and that made it look a
lot better. There were no string chains so we used some off of a
smaller engine. The wheels were in the dirt about three feet. I got
a key made for the left pinion. The road foreman was a good friend
of ours, but he would not let me cross the bridges so we had to go
through the hills or Green-Leaf Mountains. The road department shop
was close by. The road foreman brought some jacks and helped jack
it up. The day before Christmas we fired up and run it out.
Christmas day we didn’t get started until noon. No tanks or
bunkers for fuel or water. We tied the water wagon behind, built a
good fire and stood on the top cannon bearing to run it. We’d
go until the steam went to dropping them stop and put in another
fire. The clutch shoes were gone so we had the clutch arm chained
to the flywheel and we made about 10 miles on Christmas day before
dark. We left the 110 about where Dad sawed lumber for the
government with the 35 HP Buffalo Pitts double about 35 years
before. We got a late start the next day and turned off the main
road after about two miles to start down the Green-Leaf valley.

The first couple of miles the snow was so deep you couldn’t
tell where the road was. There were tall ponderosa pines on each
side, so staying in the center you were on the road. We were out of
the snow after about five miles. It was getting dark and we broke a
steering chain. I was sure glad it didn’t happen in the canyon.
We used a chain binder and were on our way. Got to the Indian
reservation line. On the third day we got an earlier start and had
about 12 miles to go. We stopped at Harold and Virginia
Sprague’s for dinner. First Claude ate and he took the engine
while I went to dinner. We made it home that night using pitch
wood. We had lots of black smoke. The whole trip was about 30
miles. Then we never steamed it up until 1953.

My two boys, Gary and Jack, and I fired it up one time and ran
it a little. From 1952-55 I worked on road construction and oil
fields in three different states and on weekends I’d go around
to the junk yards looking for engine parts and material to make a
saw mill. I had the iron to a Curtis saw mill. In the spring of
1956 we had the mill completed with a Soule steam feed. We fired up
the 110 and belted it to the mill. Every thing worked well and
sawed about 20,000 feet. Next year Claude sawed about 30,000 feet.
I helped him put a flue in (we knew it was due for a new set of
flues).

That September Dad passed away and about six weeks later Claude
passed away too. The 110 sat there. My boys and I hauled the saw
mill to town where we lived and repainted it. In the summer of 1965
I hauled the 110 to town; that was quite a job. No steering wheel
but with a 24′ pipe wrench we got the job done.

I visited with Walter Mehmke and he thought I could find parts
to fix up the 110. I went looking for parts and also for Avery
parts. I got a lower cannon bearing from Walter Spreeman in
Alberta. Clarence Young located a drawbar and bunkers for me. John
Tysse helped locate two front wheels and axle.

The fall of 1974 I started to make new water tanks and by March
27, 1975 the tanks, coal bunkers, tool boxes were done, painted and
stripped. In the summer I cut the flues out, took the rear wheels
off, counter shaft and cannon bearings, front and rear wheels sand
blasted and painted. Donnie Reiger, who worked for me at the time
did the painting and did a really good job. On January 28, 1976, I
pulled the 110 out of the shop all painted. I was short one
steering chain so I did not fire it up until July 10 ,1976. Then I
ran it at our threshing bee. Since then I took the crankshaft out,
sent the eccentric hub and strap, crankshaft, clutch arm to Fargo
to Jim Briden who rebuilt them. He made everything better than new.
I also plan on making a cab and spark arrester for it.

I want to take this opportunity to thank the following people
who helped me in this big job: Harold Ottaway, Wichita, Kansas;
John Tysee, Crosby, North Dakota; Bill Krumwiede, Voltaire, North
Dakota; John Hall, Cape Girardeau, Missouri; Austin Monk, Marian
Mt.; Ray German; Oilmont Mt.; Walter & Carl Mehmke, Great
Falls, Mt.; Clarence Young, Great Falls, Mt.; Norman Pross,
Luverne, North Dakota; Jim Briden, Fargo, North Dakota; and Walter
Spreeman, Olds Alberta, Canada.