Bob was humming softly to himself as he played with the stream, first sending it straightup into the air so that the spray covered a wide area by the time it reached the floor of the mill. No one chanced to get wet, however, save the two boys, Bob being the more so because he was right under the shower. Next he turned the stream straight into the pit, driving it down in one place, trying to bore a hole in the cinders and slag.
"Say, Steve!"
"What?"
"What do you think about——"
Puff!
A slender column of black smoke shot up from the centre of the pit that Jarvis was watering down. The lad stared at it in surprise.
"Look at the geyser!" he shouted.
Boom!
The ground under Bob Jarvis's feet rocked liked a cradle. A great, black column rose from under his very feet, lifting him from the floor and hurling the boy straight up into the air.
ON THE BRINK OF A VOLCANO
REVERBERATING crashes rent the air. Workmen in that part of the mill were hurled violently to the ground. Yells and cries were heard on all sides. The interior of the mill was full of flying debris.
Bob Jarvis had put too much water on the pit. The sudden contraction, down deep among the hot slag and cinders, had caused a tremendous explosion, wreaking disaster for many feet on either side of the pit. Kalinski, in all probability, knew what would happen when he gave Jarvis permission to soak down the cinders, and no doubt that was why the boss made such haste to get away from the spot. If he were not there, he could not be held responsible for what had occurred.
Fire spurted from the miniature volcano. Crash after crash followed, as parts of furnaces close by toppled over, though fortunately the inside walls of the furnaces did not fall and liberate their tons of molten metal. Many lives would have been lost had that occurred. However, the disaster was serious enough as it was, and several men had been injured.
The red light was displayed at the top of the open-hearth building, but this time it was another than Steve Rush who was hurrying to the scene to gather the facts and give orders for the care of the injured.
Steve was near the bottom of number seven pit with cinders and slag raining down on him in a perfect deluge. The lad instinctively pulled his cap visor down over his eyes to keep the stuff from getting into his eyes or burning his face. He had no idea what had happened, beyond the fact that there had been some sort of explosion.
With quick presence of mind he grabbed up the plank, standing it against the side of the pit and began to climb. Quick as he was, he was not quick enough to get clear of the shower. It enveloped him; it choked and half smothered him as he fought manfully to gain the top of the pit.
"It's gripping me," thought the lad. "I'll have a time getting out of this now."
The stuff was up to his knees, Rush meantime kicking out vigorously, pulling himself up inch by inch by sheer strength of arms and hands. Had he not been such a muscular lad he would have been at the bottom of the pit at that moment, probably dead.
The cinders and slag gained the boy's waist.He was nearing the top, but now he could make little or no impression. He shouted for help, but in the confusion none heard his call.
Steve kept struggling. He would never give up as long as there was a single breath left in him. Finally, however, he found that he was making absolutely no progress. The grip of the cinder and slag was getting tighter and tighter as the stuff was packed about him.
Suddenly through the pall of smoke and dirt a human face appeared, peering over into the pit. There was a bandage about the head of the man who was looking down into number seven.
"Is that you, Rush?" called a familiar voice.
"Ye-yes," answered the lad, scarcely above a whisper, for he was fast giving out. "Who—who are you? Help—help me out. I'm fa-fast and I—I'm burning u——"
"This is Ignatz Brodsky. Sure, I help you. Reach up your hands. You must make hurry. We both get buried alive in the hot stuff."
Steve stretched up his arms to the boy Ignatz, who had that morning come out of the hospital and gone to work in the mill where he was employed on a furnace a short distance down the line from where the Iron Boys worked.
Ignatz knew whose pit had blown up. He knew that Steve was in an adjoining one, becausefrom where he was shoveling he had seen Rush go down into the cinder hole a little while before the explosion occurred. As for Bob Jarvis, he had not been seen since the black column had lifted him from the floor.
Young Brodsky grasped the outstretched hands and began tugging with all his might. All his efforts were unavailing. Steve was being buried deeper and deeper every second.
"Hang on—I get somebody!" exclaimed Ignatz, darting away through the black cloud.
Kalinski, now running here and there, apparently very much upset over the disaster, was the first man the Pole met.
"Come quick!" he demanded, breathing hard.
"What do you want?" snarled Watski.
"The pit! There's a man in there and he can't get out!"
"Who is it?"
"Rush. He die pretty soon if we no get him out."
"Go on! Get him out yourself. I've got plenty on my hands. I'll help you when I can get to it. There are others here who need me. Go along, now, and get the crazy fool out," added the pit boss, turning away.
Ignatz did not seem surprised. He appeared more disappointed than otherwise. That one of his countrymen should be so heartless madeno great impression on the boy. What he was concerned in now was finding some one who would help him get his young friend out of the pit.
Brodsky ran here and there, with the result that he at last found two mill hands who hurried to the pit with him. It was no easy task, even for them, to get Steve out. The Iron Boy was still conscious, but he was quite seriously burned about the body. Fortunately he had saved his head and face from being very badly scarred.
After nearly pulling the boy's arms from his shoulders, working him from side to side as they would a post that they were trying to pull out of the ground, the men dragged him to safety.
"We take him to hospital," nodded Brodsky.
"Is the ambulance here?"
Ignatz nodded, whereupon the men carried Steve out and placed him in an ambulance. A second ambulance had just arrived, so the surgeon of that made a quick emergency dressing of the lad's burns, directing him to remain in the ambulance. Rush felt no inclination to do otherwise at that moment.
"Ignatz," he called.
"What is it?"
"I want you to find Bob."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Mebby Bob is killed."
"Wait! Tell me what happened."
"The pit he blow up."
"What pit?"
"Number eight."
"Oh, that was the one Bob was sprinkling?"
"Yes. Put too much water on. Bang!" exclaimed Ignatz, striking a dramatic attitude.
"Then he is surely killed or badly injured. Run, Ignatz! Find him. Don't you come back here until you have."
"Ignatz find him," answered the Pole, darting back into the building, from which a dense cloud of smoke was rolling through the crevices in the roof and from the doors and windows.
No sooner had Brodsky left him than Steve pulled himself up and peered out. There was no one in sight, so he slipped from the ambulance. He was barely able to stand alone, and for a moment clung to a rear wheel of the wagon for support.
The boy's burns hurt him so that he winced. Every movement made him want to groan, but he shut his lips tightly together and by sheer force of will pulled himself up.
"I'm going in to look for Bob," he muttered, starting unsteadily for the door of the mill.
The smoke was still so thick that Rush could not make out much of anything. He staggered along until he reached the spot where the explosion had occurred. There he found the accident man gathering his facts.
"Hello, Rush! You're hurt, aren't you?"
"Not much."
"Then you can tell me all about this. You were in it, weren't you?"
"I guess I was. But I can't tell you anything now. I'll tell you all I know later on. Have you seen Jarvis?"
"No; where is he?"
"That is what I want to find out. He was working on the pit that blew up."
"I guess he is settled then."
"I am afraid so."
"Well, we will hope not. I would help you look for him, but you know I've got my hands full," explained the man from the office.
"Yes; I understand. Hunt me up after you get through, and I will give you all the information I have, which isn't very much."
Rush started away. He came face to face with the surgeon who had dressed his wounds.
"What are you doing here, Rush?" demanded the surgeon. "You get back to the ambulance."
"I'm looking for Jarvis. You—you haven't found him, have you?"
"No. Is he hurt?"
"I think so."
"That's too bad," muttered the ambulance surgeon, returning to his work of dressing the wounds of those who had been burned.
Rush went on, asking every one he met if they had seen Jarvis. No one had. Foley, Kalinski, all denied having seen the boy. Steve was perplexed. By this time the smoke cloud began to grow thinner and more transparent. One could see fully half way across the shop. As the cloud lifted, all became clear. The place looked as if it had been in the grip of a cyclone, though the damage was not nearly as great as had at first appeared.
"Who is killed?" asked Rush.
"No one, so far as I know," answered the man addressed.
"Have you seen Bob Jarvis anywhere about?"
"Don't know him. Who is he?"
"He was my partner. He was working on number eight when it blew up."
"Then you'll need a basket to gather him up," was the cheerful answer of the mill hand. "The last time a pit exploded here we lost twelve men. We found the pieces of them, but somehow we never were able to put them together. The pieces wouldn't fit, nohow."
Steve turned away. The lad's face was drawn and white, partly from the pain of his burns and partly from anxiety for Jarvis.
"Ignatz!" he called, observing the Pole darting across to the furnaces.
The lad halted sharply and glanced around to see who was calling him. He caught Steve's eye and hurried over.
"Have you found Jarvis?"
Brodsky shook his head.
"Mister Bob not here," he said.
"He must be," protested Steve.
"Mebby Bob him run away," suggested the Pole.
"No, Ignatz; he is not that kind. He is here somewhere and something has happened to him or we should have seen him somewhere about. He was standing on the edge of the pit at the time it exploded."
"I see him a minute before. He put too much water on," added the boy, with a shake of the head. "Bad, bad! Somebody tell him do that."
Rush attached no especial significance to the suggestion at the moment. Later on, the words of the faithful Pole came back to him fraught with meaning.
"He must have been thrown up into the air. Perhaps he is down in the pit there buried underthe slag now," said Rush, a sudden, startled expression flashing into his eyes.
Brodsky instinctively glanced upwards.
"Look! Look!" cried the Pole, dancing up and down and pointing excitedly up above their heads into the thin cloud of smoke that hovered over them.
Steve looked. His heart sank within him as he did so and his head began to whirl dizzily.
BOB'S DIZZY FLIGHT
"BOB, him there! Bob, him there!" cried Ignatz. "See, see!"
On a girder, a huge steel truss some fifteen feet above their heads, and a little to one side of the centre, lay a limp figure, apparently ready to topple off at the slightest jar. The face of the figure up there was not visible, for it was flattened on the girder, while the arms and limbs hung over limp and motionless.
"It's Bob!" gasped the Iron Boy. "Help me, Ignatz! We must get him down."
Young Brodsky did not wait to consider the matter. He darted away, followed by Steve. To reach the figure on the girder the lads were obliged to climb the upright of a big automatic crane that was used for conveying heavy pieces of iron from one end of the building to the other. Ordinarily the boys would have been stopped, but in the excitement no one paid any heed to them as they shinned up the iron column, Steve in the lead, Brodsky so close behind him that now and then Rush's heels grazed the Pole's face.
Steve crept along the girder, using care notto cause it to vibrate any, lest he might be the means of shaking his companion down.
At last he reached the spot where Jarvis lay.
Steve uttered a shout to attract the attention of those below. As they glanced up they comprehended at once. Jarvis had been blown to the girder by the pit explosion. From appearances the spectators believed him to be dead. Steve did not know whether such were the case or not. He realized the necessity for haste if it were not.
"Throw me a rope," shouted the lad.
"There ain't any ropes here. Throw him over," called a voice jeeringly. The boys on the girder recognized it as belonging to Kalinski.
"Somebody get a rope, I tell you!" thundered Rush.
One was brought, coiled and tossed up. The first time it went wide of the mark and Steve, holding to Bob's unconscious form, fuming with impatience, nearly lost his balance in trying to catch the rope. The next time he was more successful.
"Grab hold of the end, two or three of you down there," commanded the lad, letting an end of the rope drop to the ground. In the meantime he had made the other end fast around the waist of Bob Jarvis.
"Are you all ready down there?"
"Yes; let him come."
After a keen glance below, to make sure that the men would not let the boy drop, Steve gently pushed Bob over the edge of the beam. Jarvis's body spun around like a top several times as it was being lowered. Rush breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it safely deposited.
"Hold fast to the end of the rope. We're coming down," Rush shouted. Swinging himself over, he slid down, followed by Ignatz. The surgeon was already at work over Bob.
"Is—is he——"
"The boy is alive," answered the surgeon. "I don't know how long he will be. We must get him to the hospital at once. Here, carry this boy out!" he commanded. "Have the driver hurry in with him. I will go on the other wagon, as soon as I have dressed the wounds of this other man."
Steve started to follow the men who were carrying Bob out.
Kalinski grabbed Steve by the arm.
"See here, where you going?"
"To the hospital with my friend."
"Nothing of the sort. You're going to get to work, that's what you are going to do. You'll have lots of time to visit the hospital when you take your vacation."
Steve Rush hesitated. He wanted to be with Bob, but he knew he had no right to walk out and leave his work in this manner. It would be sufficient cause for his discharge were he to do so.
"Then I will ask you to let me off for the rest of the day."
"Didn't I tell you to go to work?" shouted Kalinski. "I'll have you fired for this day's work if it's the last thing I ever do."
Rush did not understand the full meaning of the words. He was troubled. Things were not going with the same smoothness that they had for the last two years. Steve was in an atmosphere different from that of the mines, or even of the lakes. He did not know just how to adjust himself to the conditions. Then, again, there was Bob in the hospital, perhaps dying.
"I must do my duty, and I'm going to do it," muttered the Iron Boy. "They shan't say that I am not to be depended upon. What do you want me to do, Mr. Kalinski?" he asked, turning to the pit boss.
"Now, what do you suppose I want you to do? What were you doing before you two blew up the mill?"
"In the first place we did not blow up the mill. I was working in pit seven when the other one exploded."
"Then git back in number seven, unless you want me to throw you in—or out of the mill altogether. I'll have you fired if the boss don't do it for me."
"I don't think you will fire me," answered Steve, bristling.
"I won't, eh?"
"No, you won't!"
"I'll either fire you out of the shop or else I'll break your head for you. Take your choice."
Steve surveyed the irate boss for a few seconds, then picking up his shovel walked slowly toward the pit in which he had had such a narrow escape from death.
Watski grinned sardonically.
"That's the time I took the wind out of his sails. I'll comb him down so fine he'll be sorry he ever got in my shift. It ought to be easy now. I've got both of them dead to rights. You bet I have!"
Rush was throwing out the cinders, raising a fine black dust that sifted over him like mist, except that in this case the mist was black. He toiled on steadily, scarcely taking a second for rest. The perspiration was rolling from his face and body. The temperature was high out doors and many degrees higher in the mill. Just back of Steve, so close that he could hurla shovel of cinders against it, was a huge open-hearth furnace with a roaring temperature of three thousand degrees Fahrenheit inside of it. Beneath him was the hot bed of cinders and slag. Beyond him was a long row of red hot ingots, running metal and hot steam pipes.
"It isn't any wonder that I feel a little warm," smiled the boy, wiping the perspiration from his brow, at the same time taking quick note of his surroundings.
Traces of the accident were being rapidly removed. In a few moments no evidences of it would be left. The blown-up pit had been partially filled with slag that fell back after the explosion, and already a shoveler was at work throwing the stuff out. The pit must be made ready for the next cast, and the furnace was nearly ready for the cast.
Rush toiled until noon. He sat down to his lunch which he had brought with him, without opportunity to wash. The noon rest was to be for only twenty minutes, so there was no time to waste.
After finishing he walked to the door and gazed off toward the hospital, wondering how Bob was. Rush could see the roof of the hospital from the doorway, but that was scant comfort. He turned back, walking slowly toward his pit to take up the dreary afternoon's shoveling.Just as he reached the pit a light touch on his shoulder caused him to wheel sharply.
There was the boy, Brodsky. He was breathing hard.
"Hello, Ignatz, you're all out of breath," exclaimed Steve.
"I been by the hospital."
"You have? Tell me, quickly, how is Bob?" demanded Rush, gripping the arm of the Polish boy.
"Him wake up."
"He is conscious, then? Good, good! Tell me how he is?"
"Him not dead. Him get well, by and by."
Steve's face lighted up happily.
"Ignatz, you are a good boy. Did you go without your lunch for the sake of going over to see how my friend is?"
Ignatz nodded, pleased at the pleasure of his friend.
"Doctor say Bob pretty much hard hit, but him get well."
"Go get your lunch, quick, before the whistle blows," ordered Steve.
Ere the words were fairly out of his mouth the shrill blast of the shop whistle sent all hands scurrying for their stations, Brodsky among the number.
"Look out! Trouble him come quick!"warned the Pole, whispering in Steve's ear just before he bounded away.
"I wonder what he meant by that?" muttered Rush. "We surely have had trouble enough. I guess I'm a failure as a steel worker. But no! I'll beat it yet. I'll win out! They can't down me. I'll go through with it, and some of these fellows shall yet be taking orders from Steve Rush!"
AN UNJUST SENTENCE
"YOU are wanted in the superintendent's office!"
Steve looked up from the pit into the face of a messenger.
"Superintendent Keating, you mean?"
"No, Mr. McNaughton, superintendent of the open-hearth furnaces. He's the boss of this department," grinned the messenger.
"Will I have time to wash?"
"You'd better be coming along, if you know what's good for you."
"Very well, but I must first report to the pit boss."
"He isn't here. He knows where you are going."
"All right, I'll take your word for it. What does Mr. McNaughton want with me?"
"He'll tell you when you see him," answered the boy.
Steve thought that the summons had something to do with the explosion in the pit. He had no idea that he was to be involved in any way, so he walked confidently along with the messenger, out at the rear door and on to alow, rambling building just across the tracks from the open-hearth building. This was the office of Superintendent McNaughton. Steve did not remember to have seen this superintendent before. The messenger, after entering with Rush, opened a door leading into a large office, and shoved Steve in.
A sandy-haired, rugged-faced man sat at a desk, while around the room were several men from the shops. Among them were Bill Foley and Watski Kalinski. The latter grinned when he saw Steve.
"What's your name?" demanded the man at the desk gruffly.
"Stephen Rush."
Steve's face was so coated with grime that it was unrecognizable, even to one who knew him well, which the superintendent did not.
"A man named Jarvis is your side partner, isn't he?"
"Yes, sir. He is in the hospital now."
"Never mind about volunteering information, my man. I'll ask whatever questions I want answered."
"Very good, sir."
"Where were you when the explosion in number eight occurred?"
"I was shoveling in number seven."
"Did you see the explosion?"
"Not at first. I saw the latter part of it."
"What was the man Jarvis doing the last time you saw him?"
"Sprinkling the cinders in number eight."
"Humph! What did you tell the fool to do that for?"
"I tell him?" questioned Steve wonderingly.
"Yes."
"I did nothing of the sort."
"Didn't the pit boss warn both of you not to put water on the pit when it was hot?"
"He did not. I heard him utter some sort of a warning, but it was not definite enough for me to understand what he was getting at."
"Kalinski, what did you tell me about this man's having told his partner to hose down the pit?"
Watski rose, full of importance.
"One of the men told me he heard this fellow Rush tell the other man to turn the hose on and cool the blamed pile off quick."
"Helies!"
Steve uttered the words quietly but incisively.
"Silence!" thundered Mr. McNaughton. "I'll have you turned over to the Iron and Steel Police if I hear any more of your impudence."
"I had no intention of being impudent to you. I simply said the man lies, and I repeat it. He knows no such order was ever given by me, andhe knows that no one told him any such thing," added Rush boldly.
Kalinski's face was a study. It turned from red to white in rapid succession. The boss's fists were tightly clenched and he seemed to be trying to regain his voice, which had suddenly deserted him.
"Sit down!" commanded the superintendent, projecting a finger at Kalinski. "Rush, you be careful that you do not go too far. I am not inclined to stand much of your impudence."
"Mr. McNaughton, am I to be accused of something I did not do, and then not be allowed to say anything in my defense?" demanded the boy.
"I will be the judge of what you did and did not do. Foley, you say several of the men saw these two talking together—Rush and Jarvis, just prior to the explosion."
"Yes, sir."
"And that the man Jarvis then went back to number eight and began playing the hose on it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you deny this, Rush?"
"I don't know—I don't remember whether we were in conversation just before the accident or not. I can't remember. I do not think we were, however."
"You will admit the accusation in a moment,"snapped the superintendent. "You had been told that it was dangerous to put water on a hot pit——"
"I had not, sir, neither did I put water on a hot pit. I knew Jarvis was sprinkling number eight, but I did not know that such a thing was dangerous. How should I? It was my first day in the mills. I was just beginning my work there. But, sir, what is it you are trying to do with me? Are these two men trying to get me into trouble?"
"It begins to look as if you had gotten yourself in, without any of their assistance. Does any one know how badly the man Jarvis has been injured?"
"I understand it is not serious," answered Steve.
"I shall have to discipline you both," began the superintendent.
"There can be no doubt," spoke up Foley, "that they were both to blame. It looked almost as though they did it maliciously, but that is hardly possible, as they were taking long chances. It was disobedience of orders, as plain as the nose on your face."
Kalinski nodded emphatically.
"I agree with you. Rush, what do you think we ought to do in a case like this?"
"Am I to speak as I think?"
"Certainly."
"You won't like what I am going to say."
"Then I will stop you if you say anything you ought not to."
"What I not only think but know ought to be done, is to kick the man Kalinski and the man Foley out of the place. I shouldn't ask them to go, I'd use my boot. Both men have lied. The truth is not in them, and some day you will find it out, even if you don't know it now."
The two bosses sprang to their feet, starting toward Steve, who stood eyeing them calmly, but in a belligerent attitude.
"I'd like nothing better than putting it over you two loafers. But, of course, you haven't the nerve to stand up one at a time and resent the imputation that you are liars."
"Stop!" thundered Mr. McNaughton.
"You told me to speak plainly. I am doing so, but I am telling the truth. Foley is angry with me because I told the truth and got him into trouble when I was in the accident department. He tried to get me to lie for him then. I knew, then, that he was more crooked than a steel rail coming through the rolls, and that's all I've got to say. I am glad to have put myself on record, and I'll take my medicine like a man, though the day will come when you willfind that these men are rascals. The sooner you get rid of them the more certain will you be to avoid trouble. Good day——"
"Hold on, sir! Not quite so fast!" commanded the superintendent of the open-hearth building. "I have something to say for myself. The evidence is against you two. You have convicted yourselves. I have perfect confidence in both Foley and Kalinski. They have been faithful employés for many years."
"Yes, sir?"
"It is natural that I should take their version in preference to that of a man of whom I know nothing, and who has been in the mills less than a day."
"Even if those men are rascals," interjected Rush. "I dislike to use the word, but it is the only word I know that fits the case. If you wish to know anything about the honesty of myself and my companion, I wish you would be good enough to speak to Superintendent Keating. He knows people who have known us for some time, and——"
"I am running this division, young man. I think I am able to judge between right and wrong."
"Very well; I have nothing further to say in my defense. What do you propose to do?"
"I am going to do the only thing that can bedone under the circumstances, though I dislike to do it with one of you in the hospital——"
"Please do not let that interfere with your decision," urged Steve.
"I shall not. You are both discharged!"
"What?"
"You're discharged! Leave the mills at once, handing in your time at the gate as you go out. I will advise the paymaster to hand you your money to-day, so you will not have to hang around until pay-day."
"Thank you. You are very considerate, indeed," answered the Iron Boy, sarcastically. "I bid you good afternoon. I hope some day you will discover that you did two boys a very great injustice. As for you," announced Steve in a firm tone, stepping over to where the two bosses sat grinning, "if you will come outside with me it will give me great pleasure to punch both your heads. But you don't dare! You'd call the police and have me arrested before I had gone one round with you. Good afternoon, Mr. McNaughton."
Steve strode from the office with head up. A dull flush showed under the soot on his face. He had met with his first real rebuff. He did not mind that so much as he did the fact that he had suffered through the untruthfulness of others. Rush knew that neither he nor his companionwere in any way to blame for what bad happened. Neither of them knew that it was dangerous to sprinkle a cinder pit. Foley and Kalinski did know it and they had deliberately turned away when they saw Jarvis getting ready to wet down number eight.
"I'll not give up!" muttered Steve as he walked swiftly from the yards. As he passed the gate the gateman called to him to leave his number.
"I have no number," answered the lad. "I don't work here any more."
"You won't get your money if you don't hand in your time."
"I don't want any money that I haven't earned. I tell you I am not working here."
"I guess the boy must have been fired," grinned the gatekeeper, who knew that Steve had been working in the mills up to that time.
In the meantime Steve Rush was hurrying toward the hospital to see how Bob Jarvis was getting along.
IGNATZ ON THE WAR PATH
STEVE found his companion sitting up in a chair, with head and hands bandaged. Bob had been quite severely burned, and he had suffered from the shock of the explosion. The surgeon said it was a miracle that he had not been killed instantly.
"Hello, Steve," greeted Bob. "I can't grin without hurting myself, but I'm grinning on the inside of me."
"Oh, Bob, I'm so glad you are safe! I thought you had been killed when I found you were missing. What happened to you? Tell me all about it. I haven't heard the truth about it yet."
"There isn't much to tell, except that I was a bird. I flew without wings, and that is more than any one else can do. Did you see me go?"
"No, I did not, but some other persons did."
"Eh, what do you mean?"
"Foley and Kalinski."
Jarvis looked thoughtful.
"Say, that's what that fellow meant when he warned me. Why didn't he say what he was warning me about? Look here, he knew I was going to get into trouble, didn't he?"
"I have more than a suspicion that he did," nodded Rush.
"Wait till I get out of this harness," growled Bob. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing much. I was nearly buried under the cinders, but Brodsky ran for some men, who dug me out. If it hadn't been for Ignatz I believe I should have perished in number seven pit."
"He's a good fellow!" muttered Bob, nodding his head faintly. "He doesn't know much, and he wouldn't take a blue ribbon at a beauty show, but he's got the real stuff in him. I hear one man is going to die."
"Yes; so I understand. Too bad, poor fellow."
"AndIdid it!"
"Don't blame yourself. You were not to blame for what happened. You were led directly into the mistake of putting too much water on the cinders. When is the doctor going to let you go home?"
"He said perhaps I could go in the morning, but I'm all right. I could go home now, just as well as not. I want to go back to the mill and go to work in the morning."
"No need of that. I don't think either of us will start in to-morrow."
"What? Not start in? What do you mean?"
"Never mind now. We will talk about it when you get home."
"Look here, Steve Rush, something has been going on that I don't know anything about. What is it?"
"Don't bother about asking questions. I shouldn't have excited your curiosity," answered Steve, laughing to cover his chagrin at having let the words slip out. "I'll tell you what we'll do; we will take our lunches and go down the river to-morrow for a picnic, if you are able. After you have rested up for a day perhaps you will feel able to go to work."
"But you said we weren't going to work."
"Did I?"
"You did, and I want to know why. Come on now; I'm no tenderfoot, and you know it. Why don't we go to work?"
"Because we have both been discharged. There, you have it, now."
"Fired?"
"Yes."
"What for?"
"You ought to be able to guess."
"I'm not much of a guesser."
"Well, then, because we blew up the pit."
Bob gazed at his companion unbelievingly.
"Come now, you're joking. They're not all fools down at the mill. I blew up the pit—youdidn't, and I didn't know that I was doing so, of course. I'm no anarchist, and neither are you."
"Nevertheless, they hold us responsible for it."
"I know who's at the bottom of this. It's that wooden Indian, Kalinski, and—and——"
"Foley," added Steve.
"Yes, they're a choice pair. They have had a rod in pickle for both of us ever since you made the report on Foley at the time of that burning accident. Didtheyfire us?"
"No, not directly. Mr. McNaughton did so, but they were at the bottom of it. They told him lies about us, and he believed them. Think of it, Bob. He wouldn't believe what I told him. He thought I was the one who was telling the untruths."
"Tell me all about it."
Rush did so, relating all that had occurred during his visit to the division superintendent's office, the injured boy listening with darkening face as the narration continued. He nodded approvingly when Steve related how he had invited the two men out to get their heads punched.
"Didn't go, did they?"
"No."
"I thought not. They've both got a streak of yellow in them that runs all the way fromtheir heads down into their boot-tops. Wait till I get out! I've got a couple of good, swift punches in stock for them! They won't wake up for half an hour, once I unlimber," threatened Jarvis, shaking his bandaged fists threateningly.
"Bob, promise me one thing. Promise me that you will not have any trouble with those men. We can't afford to mix up in any disgraceful fights here. They would like nothing better than to have us do so. We should be arrested. Think of the disgrace of it! We will let them alone as long as they let us alone. We won't stir up any more trouble, but they must let us alone. Will you promise to be guided by me in this matter?"
"I don't know. I am afraid I shall lose my temper when I see them; then, if they say anything to me, it's all off. What are we going to do, now that we are out of a job?"
"I don't know," answered Steve thoughtfully.
"I'll tell you what let's do. Let's go back to the mines. We have fine jobs with good pay waiting for us there. We never should have left. Mr. Carrhart will be glad to have us."
Rush shook his head.
"We came down here to learn the iron and steel business, and we are going to do exactly that one thing."
"Will you tell me how?"
"There are other mills. We will try to get in one of them. I am going to start out to-morrow to look for work."
"I thought we were going on a picnic to-morrow," grinned Jarvis.
"Yes, that's so. Well, then, the day after to-morrow will be time enough for us to look for another place. Fortunately we are not broke. We have enough money in the bank to keep us for a long time, but that isn't the question. The question is whether or not we are going to get a job."
"I hope we don't. I'd much rather be underground, digging ore or bouncing about on the Great Lakes."
"You did not like the Lakes any better, when you first went out on them. Let's not confess that we are weak-kneed."
"No; but I've got a burned knee and it smarts," retorted Bob.
"So have I," laughed Steve. "I am behind you, though. You aviated yourself up to the roof, while I got buried in the pit. That was the time both ends did not meet. Well, I'm going home to clean up and dress. I will come back later, and, if the doctors will permit you to leave the hospital to-night, I will take you with me."
"I'll go, whether they let me, or not," said Bob. "What's the use in hanging around here? If I'd broken my stanchions, or smashed in some of my plates, then things would be different. But I am all right. Never felt better in my life, except for the burns."
Bidding his companion good-bye, Steve left the hospital and went home. His face was serious and thoughtful. On the way he stopped at the Brodskys, leaving word that he would like to have Ignatz come and see him that evening.
"Discharged!" muttered the Iron Boy. "Well, who would have thought it? I might go and see Mr. Keating—but no, I'll not play the baby act and squeal. I'll show McNaughton and his bosses that I don't ask any odds of their old mills. Yet Ididwant to stay with the company. Well, we shall see what luck I have when I get ready to look around a bit."
Later in the day Rush returned to the hospital. Jarvis was permitted to go with Steve, with the understanding that the injured boy return on the following morning to have his burns dressed. Then the two went home. Jarvis was weak and staggered a little, but he would not let Rush take his arm. He laughed at the suggestion. When they got home they found Ignatz at their boarding house. The Polish boy was delighted to see them.
"Bob, if it hadn't been for Ignatz, we should have been in a worse mess than we are. He's one of the white men in this smoky part of the country."
"I'll shake with you when my hands get well," laughed Jarvis. "I can't even shake my head now. I couldn't shake if I had an attack of chills."
"I suppose you know that we have lost our positions, don't you, Ignatz?" asked Steve.
Brodsky nodded moodily.
"I hear men say you no work in open-hearth place any more."
"Well, it does look as if we shouldn't."
"Why?"
"I'll tell you all about it." Rush told the story fully, and without reserve, to their faithful friend, Brodsky listening attentively with emotionless face.
"Huh!" he grunted after the recital had come to an end. "Watski say you blow up pit?"
"Yes."
"Huh! Watski much liar! Foley, him liar, too. All liars. You see superintendent?"
"We saw Superintendent McNaughton. It was he who sent for us and discharged us."
"No, I mean Superintendent Keating?"
"No, Ignatz; we can't go to him with our troubles. That would be too much like whining,and we are not the kind of boys who go about crying because we have been whipped."
"You lick Kalinski?"
"To tell the truth, nothing would give me greater pleasure. But we are not going to do anything of the sort—that is, if he keeps away and lets us alone."
"I'd like to catch him on the hot metal bridge some fine night when there wasn't anybody near," growled Bob, shaking his padded fist.
"What I sent for you for, Ignatz, was to ask you about some of the other mills. I have not been here long enough to know about them. Will you tell me what the other mills are, and whom to see? I am going to try to get a job."
Brodsky named the independent mills. There were ten of them in all. He knew the names of some of the foremen, and said he would get the names that he did not know.
"You want me more?" demanded the Pole, rising abruptly.
"No, but we should like to have you spend the evening with us, if you have no other place to go," said Steve.
Brodsky shook his head.
"Must go home split the wood for my mother. She take a club to me if I don't. I see you bimeby, mebby to-night, mebby the day after to-morrow."
The boy turned and left the room at a trot. Bob laughed heartily after he had gone.
"There's an odd lad," he said.
"He's true-blue, Bob. Under all his stolidness he is every inch a man, as I have said many times before. He is more cut up over our hard luck than we are. I hope he doesn't try to induce Kalinski to take us back. That would please the pit boss, because he would think we had asked Ignatz to intercede for us. I would rather never have a job again than to ask either of those three men to take us back."
"I wonder what the general superintendent will say when he hears about it?" asked Jarvis.
"He will not be likely to hear of it at all, unless some time he happens to think about us and asks. Even then he will be given the same story that Foley and Kalinski told Mr. McNaughton. I hope he doesn't hear it, for then our friends at the mines will learn the same story, and we shall be disgraced in their eyes."
"No, we won't! I'll see to it that we are not."
"I think we had better postpone our picnic to-morrow, seeing that you have to go to the hospital to have your burns dressed. That will give me an opportunity to visit some of the other mills, and I'll wager I'll come back with a job for both of us in my pocket to-morrow night."
"All right; I don't care. I'm getting so that everything goes and nothing matters at all. I'm getting to be an old man—a feeble old man, Steve Rush," said Bob, in all seriousness.
Rush laughed heartily.
In the meantime Ignatz Brodsky had left the house. Strangely enough he appeared to have forgotten his promise to go home and split wood for his mother, the widow Brodsky. Instead, he started in the opposite direction. Ignatz was nodding to mill men whom he knew, now and then halting to speak to one, asking a question of another, but keeping on his way.
All at once his stolid face melted into a smile so soft and pleasing that no one would have thought him incapable of feeling. The object that had brought the smile to the face of the Polish boy, however, was none other than Watski Kalinski swinging down the street. Ignatz pretended not to see the pit boss. As they were passing Brodsky lurched against the boss.
"What for you bump me?" demanded the lad, in an angry tone.
"Git out of the way before I hit you!" growled Kalinski.
"What for you run against me?"
"I didn't. You run into me. You're ali——"
Whack!
Ignatz was a stocky boy, even though he was only seventeen years old. He had been used to heavy work all his life; in fact, he had had little schooling, having had to earn his living since he was ten years old, at which time his father had been killed in the mills, leaving Mrs. Brodsky with a brood of young Brodskys, of whom Ignatz was next to the eldest. It therefore devolved on him to share a good part of the burdens of the home, the elder brother, Paul, having a wife of his own to care for.
When Ignatz let go his fist the other man was caught wholly off his guard. He had no time to raise his own fists in defense, though he was just preparing to administer a kick to the boy who had involved him in an argument.
Kalinski struck the ground sideways. The pit boss was on his feet in a few seconds, uttering a roar of rage. Ignatz calmly knocked him down again, this time the blood spurting from the boss's nose in a tiny crimson stream.
The next time Watski came up there was blood in his eyes, as well as on his face and nose. Ignatz knew full well that, unless he turned and ran, the tables would be quickly turned on him, for on equal ground he was no match for the brawny pit boss.
"You loafer! You——"
Watski made a rush for the boy, which Ignatz dodged clumsily, hitting Kalinski in the side as the latter passed him.
"All liars!" taunted Brodsky.
Kalinski wheeled sharply. Brodsky was off his balance, but his fists were up ready to defend himself. Yet he was not prepared for the tactics adopted by the unscrupulous pit boss.
Watski suddenly let go a vicious kick. It caught Ignatz in the abdomen, doubling the boy up and sending him moaning to the ground, after which Watski started away on the run.
STEVE MEETS WITH DISAPPOINTMENT
EARLY on the following morning Steve Rush started out with a list of the other mills in that vicinity, first having called at the Brodskys to get the names of the other foremen that Ignatz had promised to procure for him.
Ignatz was not at home. He had not been home all night and Mrs. Brodsky was greatly worried. So was Steve. He knew that the boy had intended to go directly home and help his mother.
"I'll tell you what I will do. I will see if I can find him. I was going on some matters of my own, but they can wait."
Mrs. Brodsky was profuse in her thanks as Steve started away to look for the missing boy. Outside, the Iron Boy halted, wondering where he should look. It was quite possible that Ignatz had gone to the mills to work, and in that case Rush would not be able to see him, for the Iron Boy would not be allowed to enter the yards unless he did so secretly, for the guard would stop him now that his name was not on the list of employés.
Steve thought of the hospital. He hurried there at once. The lad knew all the surgeons and nurses, having become well acquainted with them while he was in the accident department.
"Have you seen anything of a boy named Ignatz Brodsky?" was his first question on meeting one of the ambulance surgeons.
"Brodsky? Brodsky? Seems to me that was the name of the young fellow I picked up in the street last night."
"Yes; that was the name," remarked one of the young doctors present.
"Oh, that's too bad. Was he hurt?"
"Yes, he was unconscious when we brought him here in the ambulance, but——"
"What was the matter—had he been hurt?" questioned Rush excitedly.
"Yes, he had been——"
"How?"
"When he woke up he said he had been kicked by a horse."
"May I see him?"
"He isn't here. He insisted on going to the mills to work this morning. We thought, at first, that he had been injured internally, but I guess he didn't get a very bad kick, or he surely would not be going to work to-day."
"Thank you very much. His mother was anxious about him. I will go and tell her thathe is all right now," announced Steve, hurrying from the company's hospital.
Rush trotted along and soon reached the Brodsky home, where he conveyed the news to Mrs. Brodsky. At first she thought the boy was deceiving her and that Ignatz had been really seriously hurt even if he were not already dead. The woman set up a wail of grief. Steve did not know what else to do, so he grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her.
The shaking evidently had the desired effect, for Mrs. Brodsky ceased her wailings and began to berate and threaten Ignatz, making promises of what she would do to him when he got home that night.
Steve argued with her, trying to explain that Ignatz surely could not be to blame. He had been kicked by a horse while on his way home to help his mother. After a time the Iron Boy left the widow in a much pleasanter frame of mind. She even smiled at him as he shook hands with her and told her what a good boy Ignatz was and how good he had been to the Iron Boys.
Steve went away smiling, but he became thoughtful as he walked briskly on. He could not understand how it was that Ignatz had been picked up at the place where the doctor said he had found the boy. Surely he was not on his way home, or he could not have been at thatpoint. Steve was a shrewd boy and he began to reason the thing out. He found himself unable to get beyond the finding of the Polish boy, so he gave up wondering, though he suspected there was something more to the affair than he knew about.
Rush boarded a car and started for the Lincoln Iron Works, the nearest shops to where he then was.
"It is a good, patriotic name," he mused. "Surely I ought to be able to get a job there, if there is anything in a name."
Reaching the mills he learned the name of the superintendent from the gate-keeper, and thus armed went directly to the office and asked to see the superintendent. He was requested to state his business, which he did frankly. The word was soon brought back to him that no men were needed.
"May I not speak to the superintendent myself?" he asked.
"No; he has no time to give you," was the answer from the superintendent's secretary.
Rush left the office with a keen sense of disappointment. He decided to try the Republic mills next. To reach them he took a short cut over the hill, finally arriving at the Republic mills four miles away, hot and tired. There he was fortunate enough to catch the superintendent,who was pointed out to him as he entered the corridor of the offices.
Rush said he was looking for a place for himself and his companion. The superintendent looked the boy over critically, discovering at once that Rush was no ordinary laborer.
"Have you ever worked in the mills?" asked the executive.
"Yes, sir; a short time."
"Where?"
"In the corporation's mills."
"What did you do there?"
"I was first in the accident department, investigating accidents, and so was my friend. From that we went into the mills to work. We made the change from choice, so that we could learn the business."
"In what department?"
"We started in the cinder pits, sir."
"Hm-m! How long did you work in the pits?"
"Not quite a day," answered the Iron Boy, flushing.
"Oh! What happened to you then?"
"We were discharged."
"For what reason?"
"Because an untruthful pit boss accused us of blowing up a cinder pit, either through carelessness or with design," answered Rushtruthfully. "There was not a word of truth in it. If you will give us a place we will show you that we are all right, and can be trusted to do our work quickly and well."
"So you tried to blow up the mill in order to learn the steel business, eh? And now you want us to give you a chance to learn at our expense?"
"Not at your expense; no, sir."
"Bring me a letter from your employer verifying what you say and I will see what we can do for you."
"I wouldn't care to ask it," replied the boy promptly.
"Nor would I care to take you, under the circumstances," answered the superintendent, with equal promptness. "Good day. I have no time to waste."
The executive hurried out of the office on his way to the mills, leaving Steve standing there with flushed face, uncertain just how he ought to proceed.
Some of the men standing about were grinning at the boy's discomfiture. Rush turned on his heel and left the office, fearing to trust himself, for fear he might say something unpleasant. He walked proudly away, not stopping until he was well out of the mill settlement. Then he sat down on a rock and thought matters over.This getting a job, after one had been discharged, was not the simple matter that he had thought it. The situation was getting serious.
"But there are others. Surely, I shall be able to find something to do in one of the mills."
Rush studied his list, and decided to visit the Grey works next. That meant a tramp, unless he wanted to wait nearly two hours for a steam train to take him around the base of the mountains, so he set out on foot again, for a straightaway five-mile tramp.
It was late in the afternoon when Steve reached the place. He learned that the superintendent was out of town. The assistant superintendent was in the mills, so the boy sat down to wait for him. Hours passed, but still the Iron Boy sat reading a paper that he had found.
Shortly after five o'clock in the afternoon the assistant entered the office. The mills were closing then; that is, the day shift was coming off and the assistant was in a hurry to get home.
Steve caught him before he got into his private office and stated his business.
Very much the same conversation ensued as had been the case at the Republic mills, save that the questions were shot at him at rapid-fire rate. He answered them fully as promptly, so that but a few minutes were consumed in the conversation.
"We have no place for you," answered the assistant. "You may be telling the truth, and you may not. I haven't the time to inquire whether you are or not. Go back and tell your story to your own superintendent, and if you are any good he will put you to work again. That's all."
Once more Rush walked from a mill office beaten, although he did not realize his defeat. He was tired, though not out of the race yet. He did not even consider the advisability of taking a train back to Steelburgh. Instead he started out bravely at a swinging gait. A few miles more or less was nothing to this strong-limbed, athletic lad.
It was after dark when Rush, covered with dust, grimy and tired, swung into the village and strode to their boarding place.
Jarvis was waiting for him anxiously.
"Well, thank goodness you are back!" said Bob, with evident relief. "I thought something had happened to you."
"What's new?" interrupted Rush.
"Nothing. Oh, by the way, Ignatz has been here."
"He has, eh?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing much, but he looked as I imaginethe last rose of summer did when the cool nights came along in the fall," laughed Bob.
"Is he all right?"
"No; I told you he didn't look very scrumptious."
"Did he say what happened to him last night?"
"Yes, said he got kicked by a horse. But, Steve, I guess that horse story will bear looking into," laughed Jarvis.
"That is what I was thinking. Had he been in a fight?"
"I shouldn't be surprised. His face didn't show it, but he looked pretty seedy. How many jobs did you get to-day?"
"None," answered Rush rather dolefully.
"Why not?"
"They didn't want us, Bob; that is, not without a recommendation from our last employer."
"Meaning the Honorable Mr. Watski Kalinski?"
"Exactly," answered Rush dryly.
"I should enjoy reading the recommendation that Watski would give us. It wouldn't be worth much, would it, now?"
"I guess not," agreed Steve thoughtfully. "Is Ignatz coming in this evening?"
"He said he might, though he had to go down town on business, but he wouldn't say what."
"That rascal is up to something, Bob," said Steve, with emphasis.
"He surely is."
"And I have an idea it has to do with us in some manner. I hope he doesn't mix in this affair. He will only get himself into trouble and make it harder for us. If you see him first, tell him so. If I see him I will give him a talking to. He is a faithful friend, old chap."
"He is. Reminds me of a dog I had once. The more you kicked him, the more he loved you, and he had sharp teeth, too. So has Brodsky. Say, you don't suppose he got into a mix-up on our account, do you?"
"He may have."
"But tell me about your experience to-day?"
Rush did so, his friend listening attentively until the story came to an end. Jarvis nodded reflectively.
"I guess it is the mines for us, as they say in Russia. What do you propose to do?"
"The same thing. I am going to keep at it until I get a job for us, if I have to tramp up and down the valley all the rest of the summer. It will take more than one Kalinski to make us change our plans, Bob. Are you with me?"
"Up to my neck!" replied Bob earnestly.
"That's the way I like to have you talk even if it is a little slangy."