He was still, however, desirous of testing the practicability of employing locomotive power in working the coal down to Lemington, and he determined on making yet another trial. He accordingly directed his engine-wright, Jonathan Foster, to proceed with the building of a third engine in the Wylam workshops. This new locomotive had a single 8-inch cylinder, was provided with a fly-wheel like its predecessor, and the driving-wheel was cogged on one side to enable it to travel in the rack-rail laid along the road. The engine proved more successful than the former one, and it was found capable of dragging eight or nine loaded wagons, though at the rate of little more than a mile an hour, from the colliery to the shipping-place. It sometimes took six hours to perform the journey of five miles. Its weight was found too great for the road, and the cast-iron plates were constantly breaking. It was also very apt to get off the rack-rail, and then it stood still. The driver was one day asked how he got on. "Get on?" said he, "we don't get on; we only get off!" On such occasions, horses had to be sent out to drag the wagons as before, and others to haul the engine back to the workshops. It was constantly getting out of order; its plugs, pumps, or cranks got wrong, and it was under repair as often as at work. At length it became so cranky that the horses were usually sent after it to drag it along when it gave up, and the workmen generally declared it to be a "perfect plague." Mr. Blackett did not obtain credit among his neighbors for these experiments. Many laughed at his machines, regarding them only in the light of crotchets--frequently quoting the proverb of "a fool and his money are soon parted." Others regarded them as absurd innovations on the established method of hauling coal, and pronounced that they would "never answer."