SOMETHING HAPPENS TO THE BOSS
THE next day was a repetition of the previous one so far as Steve's finding a position was concerned. At every place he was met by one of two answers. Either they were not in need of any extra men, or else they wished a letter from the corporation mills, giving the facts of the discharge of the Iron Boys.
Rush was beginning to think hard. He had discovered that getting on in the world was not all smooth sailing; still he was not disheartened.
In the meantime Ignatz Brodsky had not been idle. He had gone to his work and had stood the abuse of Foley, and occasionally that of Kalinski, though not in the latter's department, without making any retorts. Ignatz's face was stolid and emotionless.
That evening, however, having recovered from the kick he had received, he went out first in search of Superintendent Keating. The general superintendent, he learned, was in New York, and might return the next day or he might not.
Disappointed, but still stolid, Ignatz betookhimself over much the same route that he had followed the night before. He did not meet Kalinski, however, and after a while went home to supper. Shortly after finishing his meal he left the house. The widow Brodsky thought he was going over to see the Iron Boys. Ignatz had no such intention. He kept walking up and down the streets, keeping a sharp lookout. At last his search was rewarded. He espied Kalinski standing on a street corner, talking with another man.
The Polish boy smiled again and started slowly toward Kalinski. But this time Kalinski saw him coming. The brow of the pit boss wrinkled, though he did not for a moment think the boy would dare come near him after the experiences of the previous night.
Ignatz kept on coming, just the same, though he was not looking at the boss; rather were his glances fixed reflectively on the pavement. The boy came to a halt right in front of Kalinski and looked up with an innocent expression on his face.
"Well, what do you want? Looking for more trouble? Git out of this before I lose my temper and do something to you."
"All liars!" announced Ignatz, with the same calmness as before.
"What!" fairly howled the boss. "You littleyaller dog, I'll beat the daylight out of you. What do you want here?"
"This!" answered the Polish boy, smiting the boss a terrific blow on the nose. It was the same nose and the same spot on the nose that had felt the fist of Ignatz once before.
Kalinski staggered back under the force of the blow, howling with rage and pain. Ere Brodsky could follow up the advantage thus gained the boss was upon him.
No one interfered, for Kalinski was a bad man when enraged and bystanders knew he would brook no interference. When finally he backed away Ignatz's face was a sorry sight. The pit boss had given the boy a brutal beating.
"All, all liars!" he gasped, then turned and staggered off toward home. But not a word could the widow Brodsky obtain from him as to the cause of the disfigurement. Next day Ignatz was not seen at the mill. He remained at home, moulding his face back into the semblance of its former self.
Steve was late that night, as before, but he had fared a little better. He had found a job in a mill for himself and Bob. It was not much of a job—merely carrying water for the men in the tube mill at fifty cents a day.
The Iron Boy did not agree to accept theproffered employment, but said that in case he found nothing better he would report for duty on the following Monday morning if this would be satisfactory. It was, and so the matter was left.
Jarvis was out on the street again. The bandages were off his hands, but he still wore one over the upper part of his face. The lad had gone out, hoping to meet Steve and walk home with him. All at once Jarvis discovered Brodsky walking ahead of him. As usual the Pole was looking about him keenly.
"He is hunting for some one," muttered Bob. "I think I will see what the little rascal is up to. I'll bet he's up to some mischief."
Ignatz led Jarvis quite a chase, and it was nearly nine o'clock when the Pole halted. Kalinski was just coming out of the post-office. The boss stopped short when he saw Brodsky, and Brodsky stopped short as he caught sight of the pit boss.
"Hello! I begin to smell a rat," chuckled Bob. "I wonder what he and the boss can have in common?"
Jarvis edged up a little closer. Brodsky and the pit boss were slowly approaching each other. Bob was almost trembling with excitement. The very air vibrated with trouble.
"I actually believe that little runt is goingto pick a fight with the big fellow. Well, of all the nerve I ever heard of! Why, Kalinski will eat him alive."
Bob waited to see what would happen.
"All liars!" howled Brodsky, both feet leaving the ground as he leaped straight at the boss. Kalinski's fist grazed the Polish boy's cheek, and the lad, with a quickness that would not have been thought of him, planted his own fist in the face of Kalinski.
There followed a quick exchange of blows, Brodsky fighting in close with dogged determination. Every time he landed a blow the boy would shout, "All liars!"
This seemed to enrage Kalinski more than anything else, and led him to renewed efforts to down his antagonist. It could end but one way. Bob Jarvis saw that as he stood clenching and unclenching his hands, muttering to himself: "It's a fair fight; you can't interfere. It's a fair fight; you can't interfere!"
The Iron Boy was doing his best to keep out of it, but he wished from the bottom of his heart that Kalinski would turn on him, thus giving Bob an excuse to even up old scores.
A big crowd had gathered and was urging on the combatants, jeering, shouting in a chorus of discordant yells. Suddenly Ignatz Brodsky toppled over backwards, his arms waving feeblyas he fell. He struck the ground heavily and lay there moaning.
With a shout of triumphant rage Kalinski sprang forward and began kicking the prostrate boy with his heavy boots. The pit boss was beside himself with rage, for Brodsky had goaded him to the point of desperation. The crowd apparently had no inclination to interfere with this brutal act, for they continued their shouting and jeering.
There was one, however, who did propose to interfere. Such a scene was more than Bob Jarvis could witness without taking a hand.
With a roar he hurled himself into the centre of the circle that had been formed about the combatants. A firm hand was laid on the arm of the boss, and ere he knew what was occurring he was thrown flat on his face in the dirty street.
The crowd was not exactly sure whether it approved of this or not, and, deciding that it did not, began to hiss.
"He's a coward!" shouted Bob. "He, a full-grown man, to thrash a boy, then kick him after he is down! I am surprised that you loafers could stand here and see it done without offering to interfere."
"Look out! He's coming for you!" warned a friendly voice.
But Jarvis did not need the warning. He had been watching the boss narrowly while scoring the crowd, and he was ready for the next move. As a matter of fact Bob did not believe Kalinski would fight him. In this he was wrong, for the Pole's rage blinded his better judgment. His brutal instincts were in full control. Kalinski was on his feet almost instantly, and with a yell of rage he rushed the Iron Boy.
Jarvis stepped nimbly to one side, tripped the man and once more threw him on his face.
The crowd jeered. This wasn't fighting. They wanted to see blood flow. Their desires were soon gratified, for no sooner had Kalinski jumped to his feet again, and made a vicious swing at Jarvis, than the boss received a stinging blow on his sore nose from Bob's right, and another on his right eye from Bob's left fist.
After that it was give-and-take. Neither man gave ground in the slightest, but it was plain that, while possessed of great muscular force, the Pole lacked the science of the Iron Boy. When the former did land it jarred Bob Jarvis from head to feet, sometimes sending him staggering backward, gasping for breath.
But Jarvis was full of pluck. Brodsky, at this juncture, got unsteadily to his feet and elbowed his way into the circle about the combatants.
"All liars!" he cried, whereat the crowd picked him up bodily and threw him out over the heads of those at the rear.
By this time Kalinski was getting slower in his movements, and the strong fists of the Iron Boy were beating a tattoo on the pit boss's face and ribs. The crowd, seeing that Kalinski was getting the worst of it, set up yells of disapproval.
"Throw him out! Put him in the river!"
With one common purpose the idlers surged forward. At that moment some one began pushing and elbowing through the crowd. Then Steve Rush strode into the ring where the man and the boy were battling for a finish.
Steve had been on his way home from his day's tramp in search of a position when the shouts of the crowd attracted his attention. He hurried on to learn what was going on. His surprise was great when he saw the bandaged head of Bob Jarvis bobbing up and down in the centre of the ring.
"Bob's at it again!" groaned Steve. "Will he ever learn to keep out of trouble?"
Steve quickly noted the sinister attitude of the crowd. He knew that in a moment they would fall upon Jarvis, and it was a foregone conclusion that the lad would be roughly handled. Perhaps both boys would be roughlytreated, but this did not deter Rush from springing to the rescue of his companion.
"Stand back!" Steve shouted, as he leaped into the narrowing space about the fighters. "Stand back, every one of you. It's a fair fight. Let them have it out. I don't know what it is all about, but I know nobody is going to interfere unless he wants to fight me!"
"Throw him out!" howled a voice. The cry was quickly taken up by other voices. Steve Rush was now the object of their disapproval.
"Men, I tell you to stand back! It will be the worse for you if you don't."
Uttering a yell the idlers rushed the plucky Steve.
READJUSTING THEIR FINANCES
"POLICE! Police!" yelled a voice on the outer edge of the circle.
"Police!" echoed the crowd, running in all directions, for these foreigners held the officers of the law in wholesome awe. They had had experience with the uniformed police on other occasions.
Kalinski did not run, for the very good reason that he could not. Bob was following him up too closely. Neither did Steve Rush nor Ignatz Brodsky attempt to run away. It had been Ignatz's voice that had called out the warning. There were no police in sight, but the boy, with quick wit, had cried out in order to save Steve from the wrath of the mob.
Rush, as he shot a keen glance at the grinning face of Ignatz, quickly comprehended.
"That's enough, Bob. Let him go. You are even with him. Come on now—stop it!"
"All right, in a min—minute——" thump!
"That's for the boy Ignatz, and"—thump—"that for Rush, and"——Bob uttered a grunt as he launched a terrific blow at his adversary, "that's for me!"
The blow lifted Kalinski off his feet, laying him flat on his back in the gutter.
"Back off!" commanded Steve, in a voice of authority. "You have done your duty as you saw it, and I guess a little more."
"Liar! Liar!" shrieked the Polish boy, hopping about the fallen man, waving his arms, almost beside himself with unholy joy.
"Take this boy away!" commanded Rush, as he bent over and assisted Kalinski to his feet. "I'm sorry, Kalinski, but I guess you got what you deserved. Bob, how did this thing start?"
"In the first place Kalinski was fighting with Ignatz——"
"He—he started it, the——" interrupted Kalinski.
"Don't say anything you will be sorry for," interjected Steve.
"After he had knocked Brodsky down he began kicking the boy, and with the entire approval of the crowd," added Jarvis. "Wouldn't you have sailed into him if you had been in my place?"
"I should have been a coward if I had not. And now, Kalinski, I have a few words to say to you. You have used us about as shabbily as one person could use another. We are even now; you have got what you deserve, but hereafter keep away from us. Don't you dare speakto either of us. Try any tricks and it will be the worse for you. Now get out of here!"
Steve gave the Pole a shove, Kalinski hurrying away as fast as his weakened legs would carry him, the fellow uttering threats and shaking his fists as he went.
"We will go home now," announced Steve. "You come with us, Ignatz," he added, taking an arm of the Polish boy. "I am sorry this thing happened, for I had hoped we should be able to keep out of further trouble. We will get a bad name if we don't stop having so many rows."
"But how are we going to help it?" protested Bob. "I can't stand around and see a boy abused by a big brute like Kalinski, without taking a hand."
"You did right, but I am sorry it occurred; that's all."
Reaching their boarding place, Rush took Bob and Ignatz to his room. He looked Jarvis over from head to feet. The bandage about the latter's head was now stained a dark red, where the fists of the pit boss had pummeled him, while the burns on the lad's hands, that had been healed over, were now raw and painful. Rush quickly bathed and redressed his companion's wounds, then turned his attention to Brodsky. The latter had received some pretty hardknocks, and was also in need of treatment, which Steve gave him at once.
None of them had any thought for supper, which, in fact, had long since been finished in the dining room of the boarding house. Rush looked over the Pole with keen eyes.
"You have been fighting before to-night. What for?" he demanded.
"Kalinski, he liar; Foley liar—all liars!"
"Yes, I know that. Is that why you were fighting Kalinski?"
Ignatz nodded.
"You have been fighting him to avenge Bob and myself, have you?"
"Yes; I fight him."
"And you thought you could whip that big brute?"
"I lick him yet."
"No; you let him alone. He has been properly punished to-night. After this keep away from him, or I will take you in hand myself. What will your mother say when she hears of this?"
"You tell her?"
"Certainly not, but she will hear of it, and I'll wager that she will give you a worse trouncing than did Kalinski. I got a job for us to-day, Bob."
"What's that?"
"I got a job."
"What is it?"
Rush told him. Jarvis looked at his companion a moment in silence, then burst out laughing.
"Fifty cents a day? Well, I must say we're getting up in the world. How do you suppose we are going to live?"
"I have been thinking of that. In fact I saw the necessity of readjusting our finances before we lost our jobs in the mills."
"I should say so," agreed Jarvis.
"We have been getting six dollars a week in the mills here, and we are paying five apiece for our board. If we take the new job we shall be getting only three dollars a week and paying out five."
"We'll have to make an assignment then," grinned Bob.
"I know a better way."
"What?"
"Get a new boarding place, where we shall be able to live within our means or thereabouts."
"I'd hate to live in the boarding house that would come within our new means," grumbled Jarvis. "This one is about the limit. It strikes me that the best way to make money for ourselves would be to start a boarding house."
"We are not in that line of business," answeredSteve shortly. "Ignatz, do you know of a clean, cheap place where we can get board and room?"
"Clean and cheap," Bob repeated. "They don't make 'em. High-priced and dirty is the rule."
Jarvis laughed loudly.
"Me know place," nodded Brodsky.
"Good, I thought you would. Where is it?"
"You come by my house."
"What's that? Your house?"
Ignatz nodded.
"Why, your mother would not take us. She has a large family, and she would have no time."
"Come by my house. I fix it."
"What do you think of that, Bob?"
"It strikes me, Steve."
"I am afraid your mother will not listen to it, but I am sure it would please us very much if she were to take us."
"Come, I make her."
"No, we won't do that. If she is willing and can make us a price within our means, of course we will go."
Ignatz had risen and was waiting for them to go with him.
"Will you come, Bob?"
"Sure I will. Maybe I'll meet Kalinski on the way," grinned Jarvis.
The three boys started off for the Brodskys. Mrs. Brodsky welcomed them, for she liked these two open-faced young fellows for whom her son held such an affection. He talked of them most of the time when he was at home. Ignatz was full of his subject to the bursting point.
"My friends come live by us, Mother," he said finally.
"What you say?"
"Steve and Bob come live by us."
Mrs. Brodsky opened her eyes.
"So?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Now, to-morrow."
"It is this way, Mrs. Brodsky; we have to find a new boarding place," Steve explained. "We were asking Ignatz if he knew of a place, and he said he thought you might be willing to take us. We shall not be much trouble to you, as we don't throw things about in our rooms. We can sleep in one bed and we will make that up if you do not have the time to do so."
"So?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Brodsky was rather dazed. She never had taken boarders before, and she hardly knew what to say. She looked from the now eagerface of Ignatz to the expectant ones of the Iron Boys.
"So?" she murmured.
"Yes, ma'am."
"They come by us to-morrow," urged Ignatz.
"How about it, Mrs. Brodsky?"
She nodded slowly.
"Thank you very much. Now, what will you charge us?"
"How much you give?"
"Whatever you think is right."
After reflection, Mrs. Brodsky said she thought about two dollars a week would be right. If that was too much she would charge them less.
"No; that is too cheap," said Rush. "We will give you two dollars and a half, gladly."
Mrs. Brodsky smiled benignly.
"Fine boys!" she said.
Ignatz was very happy. He began talking joyously, until sternly reproved by his mother. It was arranged that the boys were to move into their new quarters early on the following morning. The room assigned to them was small, but the perfection of neatness. There was a clean, white spread on the bed, a wash stand with a clean towel laid over it, though, as Bob observed, the pitcher and wash bowl had seen better days. There was no carpet on the floor, butthis they did not mind. After making final arrangements and paying over one week's board, the Iron Boys took their departure, very well content with what had been accomplished.
"We could just as well have gotten it for two," said Jarvis after they had left the house.
"Yes, but I am not quite so mean as that. That extra fifty cents apiece means a lot to us, and I shall be glad to be there. We shall have a happy day to-morrow, and perhaps we will take that long-deferred picnic trip."
THE BOYS MEET WITH A SURPRISE
IGNATZ had gone when the Iron Boys made their appearance at the Brodsky home next morning, carrying a trunk between them.
"Good morning, Mrs. Brodsky and all the little Brodskys," greeted Steve, with a winning smile, as the family met him at the door. The coming of the boys was an event in that household. The children were bashful, and not a word could he get out of them. They hid behind their mother's skirts, peering out at the newcomers suspiciously.
After placing the trunk in their room the lads went back for the second trunk, which was Steve's. An hour later they were well settled in their new quarters. They decided to wait until after the noon meal before starting off on their pleasure jaunt.
"I suppose our friend Ignatz is at work, Mrs. Brodsky?" said Steve, sitting down in the parlor for a chat with the widow.
"Yes."
"Well, he is a good boy and you should be proud of him. If ever I get a good positionI shall give Ignatz a job that you will be proud of."
"You'll be lucky if you get one for yourself," grunted Jarvis.
"Luck will change, old man. When a fellow sets his mind on doing a certain thing, then drives straight ahead, he's going to land what he is after. No one can stop us, Bob."
"Well, all I've got to say is that some one has given a pretty good imitation of stopping us."
While they talked, Ignatz, instead of being in the mill, as they supposed, was hanging about the entrance to the company's offices. He had heard, that morning, that the general superintendent had returned from his trip, and young Brodsky was determined to see him, even if he lost a day's pay in his effort to do so.
There were two entrances to the office building, but Ignatz had forgotten this. After waiting nearly three hours he hailed a clerk who came hurrying from the building, with the request to tell him if Mr. Keating were coming down that morning.
"He's in his office now, young man, but he is very busy," was the answer as the clerk hurried away.
Brodsky did not care whether the superintendent were busy or not, for his own businesswas more important than anything that Mr. Keating could possibly have on hand, according to the way Ignatz reasoned it out.
The Pole climbed the steps leisurely, peered into the corridor through the glass door, and seeing no one there, entered. He saw no one after he got in. Even the Iron and Steel Policeman who usually stood guard in the hall was not there. The man was in the office getting some orders from the superintendent.
Ignatz, who did not know that the regular entrance to Mr. Keating's office was through the main offices, wandered on down the hall, slowly spelling out the names on the doors. At last he reached a door on which the word "Superintendent" had been painted in large letters.
The long word bothered Ignatz, but he labored with it until he managed to convey the sound of it phonetically to his ears.
"Him there," he muttered.
Then Brodsky boldly turned the knob, opened the door and entered.
Mr. Keating glanced up from his desk in surprise.
"Well, sir, what do you want?" he demanded.
"All liars!" exclaimed Brodsky, striking a dramatic attitude, legs apart, arms waving wildly above his head.
Mr. Keating regarded the boy keenly.
"Who are you?" he asked sharply.
"Ignatz Brodsky."
"Well, what do you want?"
"All liars!" persisted Ignatz.
"So I heard you remark before. Who is it who has lied?"
"Kalinski, Foley—all liars."
"See here, young man, I am inclined to think you are crazy, but if you have anything to say to me, say it quickly and run along. Now what do you want?"
"Steve Rush and Bob Jarvis, him not lie."
"Rush and Jarvis," repeated the superintendent. "What about them?"
"They not blow up the cinder pits. Kalinski say they do, then pouf, out they go!"
"I don't understand?"
Brodsky was dripping with perspiration from his efforts to make himself understood.
"Has anything happened to Rush and Jarvis?"
The boy nodded.
"What is it?"
"Him fired. Him no get job. Kalinski, Foley—all liars."
"The boys have been discharged, do you mean?"
"Yes."
"What for?"
All Liars! Exclaimed Ignatz."All Liars!" Exclaimed Ignatz.
"All Liars!" Exclaimed Ignatz.
"For lies. Mr. McNaughton him fire boys because Kalinski tell lies."
The superintendent snatched the telephone receiver from its hook.
"Give me Mr. McNaughton's office!" he commanded sharply. "Hello, McNaughton, is this you? Is it true that the two young men, Rush and Jarvis, have been dismissed?"
"Yes." Brodsky caught the word faintly.
"What for?"
The boy could not hear the reply in the telephone, but he did hear the superintendent's next remark.
"Come to my office at once. I wish to talk with you. Brodsky, I am very much obliged to you. Sit down. I may want to ask you some questions after Mr. McNaughton gets here."
Ignatz, whose face had resumed its ordinary stolidity, dropped into a chair, while his eyes gazed vacantly through the window. Soon the division superintendent came hurrying in.
"What is this you tell me about those boys having been thrown out?" demanded Mr. Keating, with a slight show of irritation.
"They are a bad lot, sir; a couple of impudent, untrustworthy fellows. I wouldn't have them in my division under any circumstances."
"Why not?"
"Because, in the first place, they disobeyedorders and blew up the cinder pit after having been warned not to put water on it while the cinders were still hot. Then again, they had several quarrels with the pit boss and the foreman. Even in my office, where I called them to hear their story, they answered me in a most impudent manner."
"Is that all?" demanded Mr. Keating, in a sarcastic tone.
"Well, it is all I can think of just now."
"Hm-m! A desperate pair, eh? McNaughton, I thought you were a better judge of human nature than that."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I mean, with all due respect to you, that I don't believe a word of this. What did the boys say—what excuse did they offer?"
"Denied it, of course."
"Tell me exactly what Foley and Kalinski said in making their charges."
Mr. McNaughton did so. There was a slight flush on his cheeks, brought there by the sharp answers of the general superintendent.
As he finished, Ignatz suddenly came to life again.
"All lies!" he exclaimed, waving his arms over his head, after which he subsided.
"That will do, Brodsky!" commanded Mr. Keating sternly, while his division superintendentflushed violently. "There is something more to this affair than you seem to have learned. These boys came to me with the highest recommendations from President Carrhart. They held responsible positions in the mines and they came here to learn the steel business after having followed the ore all the way down. There is some mistake; depend upon that."
"I do not think there is any mistake, sir. I know a bad boy or a bad man when I see him. These boys are the limit. Why, sir, I hear they made an attack on Kalinski on the street last night, beating him nearly to death."
Mr. Keating looked grave.
"Lies!" muttered Ignatz.
"Young man, do you know where Rush and Jarvis are?"
Ignatz nodded.
"Boys go work in Stevens' mills by Monday," volunteered the Pole.
"Can you fetch them here at once?"
"Yes."
"Then do so. You need not say what I want of them. Simply that they are wanted at the office of the superintendent immediately."
Ignatz was out of the office on the run. He burst into the house, waving his arms.
"Come by superintendent, quick!" he shouted, dancing about excitedly.
FACING THEIR ACCUSERS
"WHAT—what for?" demanded Rush.
"Yes, what does he want with us?" questioned Jarvis, gazing with suspicion upon the boy.
"Him want to see Iron Boys. Come quick."
"Are you sure, Ignatz?" asked Rush.
"Yes, superintendent him wait by the office."
"But why does he wish to see us?"
"I not tell. Him say I mustn't."
The Iron Boys laughed at this.
"I guess it is all right, Bob. Our friend has given himself away. I shouldn't be surprised, however, if Mr. Keating were sending for us to express his disappointment at our failure to make good. When did he return from his trip, Ignatz?"
"Last night."
"You seem pretty well posted," laughed Rush, bending a keen glance on the excited face of the boy. "Very well; we will go with you, although I rather dislike to do it. It seems as though we were begging to be taken back, whereas we know that such is not the case."
On the way to the office of the mining companySteve sought to draw out Brodsky as to the causes that had led up to Mr. Keating's sending for them, but Ignatz was as uncommunicative as a Chinaman. He appeared almost idiotic in his ignorance. This brought a smile to the face of Steve. He knew the Pole had had some hand in the affair, and Steve shrewdly suspected that the boy was directly responsible for the summons they had just received. However, he pressed his inquiry no further. They would soon know, for they were ascending the steps to the office building.
Rush entered the reception office, sent in his name and was bidden to enter. This he did, followed by Jarvis, and, bringing up the rear, was Ignatz Brodsky.
"How do you do, lads?" greeted the superintendent cordially. "Will you be seated?"
Mr. McNaughton, at the first glance, was somewhat taken aback. Here were two well-dressed, gentlemanly young men. The boys whom he had discharged had been clad in their rough working clothes, hair unkempt and faces streaked with the soot of the mills. There was honesty and manliness in both faces now, though the face of Bob Jarvis was considerably the worse for wear, between his late accident and his battle with Kalinski. The lads seated themselves as requested by the superintendent.
"Brodsky tells me that you wish to see us, sir," said Rush, after greeting the division superintendent.
"Yes, I do. What is this I hear about you boys having been discharged?"
"I think Mr. McNaughton can answer that question, sir," replied the Iron Boy, with the suspicion of a twinkle in his eyes, as he glanced at the division superintendent. The twinkle was not lost on Mr. Keating, and he nodded, while McNaughton flushed half angrily.
"Mr. McNaughton dismissed you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why?"
"I presume he thought we ought to be discharged."
"You are evading the question."
"I have no such intention, sir. What is it you wish me to say?"
"Tell me the story as it is. It is quite evident that there has been a misunderstanding here. Mr. McNaughton has been misled by some one."
"I will tell all I know about it, and exactly as it occurred. We began our work, evidently having incurred the dislike of the foreman and the pit boss before we even started in the pits."
"Why should you have gained their displeasure?" interrupted Mr. Keating.
"I can only surmise. The foreman was enraged when, as an inspector in the accident department, I made a report which brought criticism down upon him and led to his being reduced."
McNaughton nodded. Already he began to see a light.
"Now we are getting down to cause and effect," announced Mr. Keating, shooting a swift glance at his division superintendent. "Go on."
"The two men began making it uncomfortable for us at once. But I dislike to say these things. It sounds as though we are whining. We don't intend to do anything of the sort. We are willing to take our medicine and smile, no matter how bitter the dose."
"Go on!"
Steve proceeded to relate the differences they had had with Foley and Kalinski, but through it all he did not mention the names of the foreman and the pit boss. From this he went on to tell what he knew about the warning, the hurrying away of the two bosses and the eventual explosion of pit number eight.
Bob Jarvis was asked to give his version of the affair relating to the explosion only, which he did, pointedly and concisely. To a fair judge of human nature there was no doubt at all as to the truth of the story the boys were telling.
"Now, Jarvis, you say that you did not know you were doing a dangerous thing when you put the whole stream of water on the pit, do you?"
"Do I?" repeated the boy.
"Yes?"
"Do you think I would be foolish enough to blow myself up, just for the sake of feeling myself going up?" demanded the Iron Boy, with a belligerent tilt to his chin.
Mr. Keating leaned back, laughing heartily.
"Well, candidly, I don't, though I do not think even that consideration would stop you if there were any good reason for your blowing yourself up."
"I suppose you are not so far wrong at that," muttered Bob, coloring.
"There is another point that I should like to ask you about," said Mr. Keating, turning to Steve.
"Yes, sir."
"How much truth is there in the statement that you two assaulted Kalinski in the street last night, beating him so badly that he was unable to report for duty this morning? He is in the hands of a doctor, I understand."
Steve colored again, and Bob laughed bitterly.
"All lies!" exclaimed Brodsky.
The two superintendents turned sharply. They had not noticed his presence before.
"Brodsky, what are you doing in here?" demanded Mr. Keating.
Ignatz did not answer.
"If you speak again, until you are spoken to, I will call the officer and have him put you out."
Ignatz subsided, settling far down in his chair.
"It is both true and untrue."
"Explain."
"I will do so, though I was not present at the beginning of the trouble. Jarvis can better tell you more about that than I, and I do hope that what we say will not get our friend, Ignatz Brodsky, into trouble. He is a faithful friend and an honest, well-meaning boy."
"I will decide that when I hear the story. Jarvis, you may tell it."
"It was this way," began Bob. "I—we—had been suspecting that Ignatz was watching Kalinski and Foley ever since we were discharged from the mill. He took our dismissal very much at heart. He got hurt on the street, the other night, and said he had been kicked by a horse. I suspected that it was a two-legged horse that had kicked him. Last night, as I was walking along, I saw Ignatz. I followed him. Then, soon after, I saw Kalinskicoming from the post-office. Both men stopped and then I began to understand what was in the wind. Well, sir, they sailed into each other without a word——"
"Who started the fight?" interrupted Mr. Keating.
"Both," answered Bob promptly.
"Go on."
"I didn't think it was my business to take a hand, though I wanted to. The little fellow held his own pretty well for a time, but the boss was too big and strong for him. Then Kalinski knocked the boy down, and began to kick him."
"The ruffian!" exclaimed Mr. Keating.
"Yes, sir, that's what I thought; and not a man of the crowd that had gathered went to the boy's assistance. They seemed to think it was a barrel of fun. Well, sir, you know I couldn't stand for that."
"I should say not."
"I just sailed in, and we had it right and left all over the street. He had a sore nose and I played a tune on that for a little while. I had a sore head, where I got burned the other day in the mill, and Kalinski played rag-time on that. After awhile there wasn't any more music left in either of us, except in our ears. Mine were ringing like a church bell at Christmas time."
By this time both superintendents were laughing at the humorous recital of the Iron Boy. Even Steve Rush was smiling, despite his efforts to be serious.
"What next?" questioned Mr. Keating, brushing his hand across his face to hide his laughter.
"I wound up with a tattoo on his face, and Kalinski went to the ground, and I didn't kick him either. It came pretty close to being a fight."
"I should say it was a real fight," remarked the superintendent dryly. "Then Rush had no part in it at all?"
"He came in when we were having it hardest, and the crowd was getting ready to jump on me because they saw I was getting the best of the pit boss. Rush held the crowd back so I should have fair play; that's all."
"What was Brodsky doing all this time?"
"He was shouting 'liars!' most of the time. But when he saw that the crowd were going against me, he called 'police,' and the crowd ran away. (Much obliged, Ignatz. I hadn't thought to thank you for helping me out before.) I had to do it. You would have done the same as I did, Mr. Keating, because you're a man——"
"You're right, I should have, Jarvis!" exclaimedthe superintendent, bringing the flat of his hand down on his desk with a resounding whack.
"At any rate, you can't fire me because I'm not working for you any longer."
"Oh, yes, you are. McNaughton, what do you think about these boys now?" demanded the general superintendent, turning to his division superintendent.
"I don't think; I know. I have done these boys a very great injustice and I am willing and ready to make amends in any way that I can. I don't know how I could have been so deceived."
"Naturally, not knowing them, you took the word of your foremen. I am not inclined to blame you under the circumstances. But, boys, I am sorry this has happened. I apologize to you, for you have been very badly used. Do I understand that you have taken another place?"
"Yes, sir; that is, we can have the place if we wish it. There is no obligation on our part to go if we do not wish to."
"Why did you not come straight to me with your story at once?"
"It did not seem right to go over Mr. McNaughton's head. It seemed an unmanly thing to do."
Mr. Keating nodded at the other man, asmuch as though to say, "I told you so." What Keating said aloud was:
"Not many would have followed that course, McNaughton."
"No, sir," agreed the assistant superintendent.
"We shall have to take some action in the cases of Foley and Kalinski. Each is equally to blame."
"Yes, sir."
"My inclination is to dismiss them summarily. Have they families?"
"Yes, sir; large families."
"Hm-m-m," reflected Mr. Keating. "That makes it rather difficult to do with them as I otherwise should. However, they must be punished. I'll tell you; they must both be reduced to the ranks. I do not want any such men in positions of responsibility in mills of which I am the head. It is not safe. Put them at whatever they can do."
"They will quit, sir."
"Let them! I hope they do. It relieves me of a disagreeable job that sooner or later it will be necessary to tackle. Brodsky, you are a good boy. I shall look into your case and see what can be done for you."
"Then do we go to work?" asked Jarvis.
"You are at work already. I will see to itthat you are paid for the time you have been off. It was a rank injustice. But I am going to shift you to another department. How would you like to try the blast furnaces?"
"We are ready to go wherever you put us," answered Rush.
"You proved that by taking the job in the pits. That will take them out of your department, McNaughton."
"Yes; I am sorry, too, for I rather hoped to be able to make up for my shortcoming in this matter."
"You were not to blame, sir," said Steve. "We are very grateful to you for your kind words to-day. Shall we begin in the furnaces to-morrow, Mr. Keating?"
"No, Monday will do. In the meantime I will have your time corrected, so that you will have lost no time by the mistake that threw you out. McNaughton, you will attend to Foley and Kalinski at once?"
"Yes, sir."
The Iron Boys rose.
"Thank you, Mr. Keating. We are more grateful than we know how to express. We will show you that we are both appreciative, and I hope you won't have to be told that we are not doing our duty."
Bowing their thanks the boys left the office,Brodsky having already sneaked out ahead of them. They espied him lurking around the turn in the hall, watching for their coming.
"Ignatz, you rascal!" called Bob. "I ought to give you a good thumping. You don't deserve to be let off with a scolding. How would you like to have me tell your mother you have not been at work to-day?"
"She know when she git my wages."
"No she won't," interjected Steve, "for I am going to pay your wages for just this one day. You come with us. We are going on a picnic."
Three happy boys started off for a place they knew of up the river, where they were going to spend the afternoon. Steve bought some cakes and sandwiches at a baker shop, and a few bottles of mineral water, then off they went for their holiday.
BY THE ROARING FURNACES
IN the daytime a row of tall black, cone-shaped chimneys might be seen across the river from the mills themselves. At night these chimneys were pyramids of yellow and red fire.
These were the blast furnaces. In them, the ore, as it came from the mines far away on the Minnesota iron ranges, was reduced to pig or pig iron, by smelting at a temperature of fifteen hundred degrees centigrade—about twenty-seven hundred degrees Fahrenheit. This great temperature boils the slag or impurities out of the metal, and after it has been drawn off into ladles it becomes "pig."
From the blast furnaces the pig, red-hot in its molds, is conveyed to the open-hearth furnaces, where it is subjected to a still further boiling process at the same temperature as before, and then it is steel. Steel is pig-iron combined with carbon and with the impurities boiled out.
It was to the blast furnaces that the Iron Boys were assigned, and they were to take the night trick. As they made their way that nightthrough the yards of the mill, where engines were shrieking their warnings, cars were thundering here and there, long trains of red-hot metal rumbling over the hot metal bridge from the blast furnaces to the mills, while the flames were leaping skyward from the blast furnaces, Steve halted for a moment to gaze on the scene. Neither boy ever had been in the yards after dark, and the scene was one never to be forgotten.
"Which furnace do we work in?" wondered Bob.
"Number four, I believe."
"Then that must be the fourth one."
"Naturally it wouldn't be the fifth," answered Steve, with a laugh.
They hurried across the bridge, for it was already time they were reporting to the head melter at the furnace, and being late meant being docked, for there is no sentiment in the steel mills. Every man was expected to do his full duty and a little more. Most of them did the latter.
A scene of activity and apparent confusion met their gaze as they neared the towering blast furnaces with their heating stoves sixty feet high on either side of them.
Men with barrows were rushing about, bells clanged as the charge was ready to hoist onthe top of the furnace to be dumped into its never-satisfied mouth. The ore was carried up by another skip. Through the stoves roared a gas flame, leaping, licking, here and there reaching out a forked tongue as though in search of fresh prey. The odor of gas was well-nigh overpowering to the Iron Boys, for they were not used to it.
The head melter, standing close up against the furnace, clad in a rubber coat and wearing green goggles, was peering into the furnace through a peep hole, while a stream of water from a hose was constantly played over his body. His face seemed to rest almost against the plates, and the bosh on which he was standing was so hot that the steam rose in a cloud about him.
Two men were inserting the prodding rod against the dolmite that plugged the ore hole near the bottom of the furnace. The perspiration was running in rivers down their half-naked bodies.
"The drill! The drill!" shouted a choking voice.
A compressed air drill was brought, a dolly-rod inserted, and then the dolmite was drilled to a thin shell.
"Stand back!" warned the head melter in a hoarse voice.
"I reckon something is going to happen," cried Jarvis in his companion's ear. The roar of the furnaces and the gas in the huge stoves made his voice sound weak and far away.
Steve moved back a little, pulling Jarvis after him. Flush with the edge of a raised platform of fire-brick and steel, over which extended little gutters packed with sand, stood a string of flat cars each holding an immense ladle. The gutters led directly into these ladles.
"That is where the iron goes, through those gutters and into the ladles," explained Rush. "It runs like water, though I have never seen them make a cast."
Just then a warning cry sounded as the dolly broke through the clay dam that holds the metal in the furnace.
Fire, scorching, burning fire leaped from the opening made with the dolly. The air was filled with brilliant, hissing stars as large as the palm of a man's hand. Some whirled like pin-wheels; others, holding their perfect shape, described graceful curves in the air, or exploded.
Men shaded their eyes, drew themselves together, and tried to shrink away from the terrific heat. But there was no avoiding it. The monkey-man who had broken through the clay dam staggered away from the opening thus made, shouting hoarsely for water.
Following the explosive stars, a river, almost blood-red, burst from the furnace with a roar, quickly changing into a river of saffron. Hissing and snapping the molten metal burned its way along through the sand-packed gutters, and shot from the ends of the gutters and into the waiting ladles on the flat cars at the foot of the platform. Everywhere the air seemed filled with fiery shapes reaching for human prey. Under foot there was danger on every hand, for a single misstep would plunge one into this all-consuming flood. The slag, or as much of it as possible, ground its way much more slowly, along another channel, to be gathered up and used over for other purposes at some later day.
As one ladle was filled the waiting train would move up, bringing a new set of cars under the ends of the gutters, and when at last all the cars had been loaded the train moved off, the ladles glowing in the darkness of the night, until in the distance they became mere eyes of fire.
The Iron Boys drew a deep sigh as the operation was concluded. Four hours would elapse before another cast would be made from number four furnace, but here and there along the row of huge cones stars were bursting, streams of hot, yellow lava flowing and men shouting, snarling or begging for water.
"It is terrible, yet grand!" exclaimed SteveRush, wiping the perspiration from his brow. Even where they stood, at one side of the furnace, the heat was well-nigh unbearable.
"It strikes me as being grandly hot," answered Jarvis. "Whew, a fellow doesn't need his winter underclothing on in this job, does he?"
"The furnace men don't seem to wear any at all," laughed Rush. "I should think they would burn their skin off. I don't know whether I can stand this game or not, but I'll try it. I wonder what we are going to do?"
"I will find out from the foreman."
The foreman was not on hand at the moment, but the head melter, known under the name of Pig-Iron Peel, had received orders regarding the Iron Boys.
He motioned them to approach, when a furnace hand told him who they were. He asked the name of each boy in a hoarse, gruff voice.
"Who are you?" demanded Jarvis.
"I'm the Pig," answered the melter, his red face wrinkling into a grin, which was quickly smoothed out as if the effort hurt him.
"Pig-Iron Peel," he added.
"Ho, ho!" roared Bob immoderately.
Steve nudged him to be quiet.
"We are ready to work if you will tell us what to do," said Rush.
"You can pack the sand gutters after the charge is loaded into the ladles. Either of you ever worked on a furnace before?"
"No, sir," answered the boys.
"You, what's your name——?"
"Jarvis."
"Well, Jarvis, I'll put you up on the charging platform. You won't have much to do there——"
"Where is the charging platform?" interrupted Bob.
"At the top of the furnace, fifty feet up there in the air. How do you like it?"
"Fine!" answered Jarvis, though without his usual enthusiasm. "What am I do when I get there?"
"Dump the charges into the furnace. The skips you have nothing to do with, except to ring a bell when you are ready for them. They will dump four loads of red ore into the furnace; then you throw in a layer of coke and limestone, the latter being called 'flux.' This makes what we call the charge. Is that clear?"
"Yes. What do I do then?"
"You do it all over again and you keep doing it until another man comes to take the job off your hands."
"How do I get up there?"
"Climb the ladder."
"Huh! Lucky for me I'm on the night trick, so I can't see, or I'd surely fall off."
"Rush, the sand man will show you about the troughs. Jarvis, you hike upstairs. Tell the man I have up there that you are to relieve him. He will show you about operating the levers. Have him put in a charge while you look on."
"Is there any light up there, so I can see what I am doing?"
"You will have light enough," grinned Pig-Iron Peel. "You won't have any reason to complain about either light or heat. This charging business is a continuous performance day and night, until the furnaces have to be shut down for cleaning. For your information I will tell you that the iron, being the heaviest, sinks to the bottom of the furnace as it is melted. The cinders trickle down after it, forming what is called the heart. The latter are tapped off every two hours, the iron every four hours. If you are going to be furnace men you will want to know all these things at the start."
"Thank you for the information. It is all very interesting," answered Steve.
"And very hot," added Jarvis. "With your permission I'll go aloft now, sir."
"Go on, and look sharp that you don't fall off," warned the head melter.
"I'll cling to the sheets, sir."
Bob, after the ladder bad been pointed out to him, began to climb. He had not gone far before he discovered that the rungs of the iron ladder were hot. They were so much so that he yelled, "ouch!" removing first one hand and then the other to rub it on his trousers. He was unable to keep both hands on the ladder for any great length of time.
Bob began to growl, and he kept up his growling all the way up the fifty-foot ladder. Finally he decided he must have gone about a hundred feet, instead of fifty and halting he shouted, "Hello!"
"Hello, yourself," answered a gruff voice from the cloud above. "What do you want?"
"It isn't a question of what I want, but rather what I am going to get. Are you the feeder?"
"I'm charging, if that's what you mean."
"Well, if you don't charge too much I'll come up and be shown," laughed the irrepressible Bob.
"Quit that fooling or I'll throw a bag of coke down on you."
Bob ran nimbly up the rest of the ladder, and a moment later stood facing a soot-covered fellow of about his own age.
"Say, did you mean that about the coke?"
"You'll find out whether I did or not, if——"
"Look here, pard, if you get funny I'll put you in with the coke and the—the limestone. I'll bet they'd never get the impurities out of the iron after you once got in it. It would be pig forever afterwards. Ha, ha! How's that?"
"You're too fresh, that's what's the matter with you," growled the charging boy. "Git busy here; I'm going down. I don't belong up here anyway, and I'm glad of it."
"Don't say that," protested Jarvis, with mock seriousness. "It is a matter of sincere regret to me that this isn't your regular job. I'd just as lief be down on the ground carrying water, as up here feeding the mouth of the furnace. The boss monkey down below said you were to show me what to do."
With a grunt of disapproval the charging boy instructed Jarvis in his duties, then with a "so-long," hurried down the ladder, leaving the Iron Boy alone in his glory.
Bob glanced about him curiously. Directly over his head, it seemed, flared the flames from the huge stove. Every now and then the great flame would swoop down a fiery tongue as if bent upon lapping him up. Bob instinctively ducked as the breeze carried the flame down toward him. He believed that a gust of wind would surely bring the flame on him, which he was certain would be the end of Bob Jarvis.
Off to the right and to the left of him were other swaying pillars of fire from the stoves of the other furnaces, and over on the opposite side of the river black smoke and red fire poured from the funnels of the open-hearth furnaces there. Bob himself was enveloped in a dense cloud of suffocating smoke, which, breathed into his lungs, set him coughing and choking.
"I wish I had stayed fired!" he muttered. "This is worse than the cinder pits."
Time passed quickly, however, and between watching the skiploads of ore as they shot up to him with disconcerting suddenness, and dodging the flames from the number four stove, Jarvis was kept reasonably busy.
Down below Steve, on hands and knees, was patting the sand in the gutters into place, smoothing it off so that there should be no projections to catch and retard the flow of the hot metal when the next cast was made. He found Pig-Iron Peel, despite his rough appearance, to be a kind-hearted man. This was a distinct relief after the experience of the lads in the cinder pits under two bosses who had lost no opportunity to do them harm. Now and then the head melter would step over to instruct the Iron Boy in his duties, and even at the distance from the furnace that Steve was working the heat was well-nigh unbearable. He was obligedto make frequent trips to the water barrel, and now and then he showered himself from head to foot with the ready hose. The skin was peeling from his face and his work clothes were burned through in many places.
"Stand by for the tap!" commanded Peel.
Rush was so busy that he did not hear the command. He did hear the tap, tap of the mall as it drove against the prodding rod, but this held no special significance for him. In the darkness preceding the cast the others did not observe him.
Suddenly, with a roar, the saffron flood burst through the clay dam. Millions of hissing stars leaped into the air and a river of molten metal swooped down on Steve Rush in its all-consuming flight.