It's Bob! Cried Steve."It's Bob!" Cried Steve.
"It's Bob!" Cried Steve.
"Steady, now!" warned the melter.
"I'll catch you, Bob."
"Look out!" howled Jarvis.
His body seemed to leap from the wire. It landed against Steve Rush with the force of a catapult. Steve went over like a ninepin. Behind him Pig-Iron Peel shared the same fate, and in an instant the three were in a tangle.
Jarvis was the first to extricate himself. He leaped to his feet and began dancing about, howling lustily.
"What kind of a game is this that you've put me up against?" he yelled.
The boy, with arms and legs wrapped around the guy wire, had shot down from the top of the stove. He was angry all through, more angry than scared or even hurt.
"What kind of a game is it, I say?"
Rush and Pig-Iron were too busy picking themselves up from the floor where Jarvis's bump had landed them, to make reply.
"What's the matter with you fellows? Did I bowl you over? Well, it serves you right if I did."
"Bob," laughed Steve getting to his feet, "I knew nothing could do you up. You're too tough to be very badly hurt. What happened to you up there?"
"That's what I've come down here to find out.What happened down here? Was it an earthquake, or something of the sort?"
"Something like that. Mr. Peel called it a hang-over up at your end."
"Hang-over? Pshaw! It was a fall-over, so far as I was concerned."
"How'd you git on that guy-wire?" demanded Peel, breaking into the conversation at this juncture. "The head of that is more'n twenty feet from where you were working?"
"I took the air-line route," grinned Jarvis.
"Tell us what happened?" urged Steve.
"I was working over the top. Something all of a sudden went wrong, and there didn't seem to be any smoke or anything coming out. I got up on the edge of the crater——"
"You mean the furnace?"
"I mean what I said. It was a crater, and don't you forget it—a real, live crater. You'd have thought so if you had seen it spit fire and lava. Well, about the time I got up on the edge, pouf! slam, bang! The whole insides of the volcano popped up in my face. I must have fallen over in, for the eruption lifted me right out again. I did another aviation act. I spread my planes and sailed through the air——"
"Was that—no, of course not. Where were you all the time from the explosion to just now, when you came down on the wire?"
"I was roosting on that flange up there near the top of the stove."
"What? Thrown way over there?" exclaimed Steve.
"No; didn't I tell you I flew again? I'm getting to be an expert. First I flew over in the open-hearth building and landed on a girder. This time I tried a more ambitious flight, landing on a hot stove. All the stuff from the eruption fell down on me and woke me up after a little. I nearly fell off trying to reach the guy-wire that I knew was there. You know the rest. I took a slide down the wire that would have made a Japanese performer turn pale. Then you and I had a collision."
"Well," laughed Steve, "it's all over now, you can get back to work."
"What? Up there again?"
"Of course."
"No, siree! Not for Robert Jarvis. He knows when he has had enough. He can get into enough trouble right down here on the ground floor. He doesn't have to perch on the edge of a crater looking for trouble. Did anything happen down here?"
"What did happen?" questioned Steve, turning to the head melter.
"Flare-back and——"
"What caused it?"
"I don't rightly know—"
"I know that your man on the rear end of the dolly nearly put an end to me by that last blow he struck with the mall. Whatever possessed him to do it!"
"He must have misunderstood you. That was a close call. Did the juice burn you?"
"It scorched my cheek a little as it went by," laughed Rush.
"What's that? Did you get singed again?" demanded Jarvis.
"Yes; a little. But we must expect those things in the steel mills."
"Hello, what's the matter over there?" cried Bob, running to the edge of the platform and looking down at the burning cars of the hot metal train.
Pig-Iron explained that a flare-back had flooded the place with molten metal, setting everything inflammable on fire.
The front of the furnace had been blown out and the platform was littered with debris, brick, sheet-iron, metal that was still glowing and which would continue to glow for hours before it became cold and gray. The place looked a wreck, though conditions were not nearly as bad as appeared to the inexperienced eye. There was little that could be done to clear away until the metal had cooled.
In the meantime, the head melter had sent one of his men to make a report of the occurrence to the superintendent of that division.
"We will move over to number three. That is nearly ready to tap," announced Peel.
"If you don't mind I should like to ask a question or so before we start in," said Steve.
"Sure thing. What is it?"
"Did you see who was handling the mall when the dolly was hit that hard blow that did the business?"
"No. Why?"
"I should like to know."
"We will find out mighty quick. Say, you fellows over there, who was plugging the dolly?"
"Don't know," answered a voice.
"It was the relief man, Kalinski," answered another.
RUSH MAKES A SUGGESTION
"KALINSKI!" exclaimed both boys.
"Come here!" commanded Peel.
The Pole came forward sulkily.
"Did you hit that dolly the whack that drove it through the dam?"
Kalinski nodded.
"Why did you do that?"
"He told me to," pointing to Steve.
"You are mistaken. I did nothing of the sort," answered Rush, his face flushing under his effort at self-control.
"You did!"
"Be careful," warned Rush.
"You know what Brodsky would say were he here?" spoke up Jarvis, thrusting his chin close to the face of the Pole. "He would say 'liar!' and I reckon he wouldn't be far from the truth at that."
"Look here, what about this thing? What are you getting at, Jarvis?" demanded Pig-Iron.
"This is the fellow who got us into trouble the other time and he is trying to get Steve in again. If he was the man driving home thedolly, whatever he did was done on purpose. Did he put Steve's life in danger?"
"Nearly killed him. So you're the duffer, are you?" growled the melter. "Git out of this!"
Pig-Iron's voice grew to a roar. He made one leap toward the surly-faced Pole, planting a ponderous fist squarely between Kalinski's eyes.
"Git up!"
Kalinski did not rise, for the reason that he could not. Pig-Iron jerked the fellow to his feet, then knocked him clear across the platform.
"Don't hurt him. He has been punished enough," cried Steve.
"It would serve the brute right if I killed him," roared the melter.
Kalinski moaned, stirred, then got to his feet dizzily.
"I'll have you put out of the yards for this," he growled, turning slowly away.
Pig-Iron's right foot shot out. It caught the Pole fairly, lifting the fellow clear of the platform, hurling him headlong to the ground ten feet below.
"There, I guess that will hold him steady for a while. Don't you ever be caught around these furnaces again, unless you want me to finish the job," shouted the boss.
Steve's face wore a serious expression. Bob was grinning.
"I wish Ignatz could have been here to see that," Jarvis said. "It was worth being blown off the roof to see. Say, Mr. Peel, if you ever have occasion to lambaste Watski again, just call to me. I want to see the fun. Wouldn't miss it for anything."
"All hands to number three," commanded the melter. "We're losing time. Daylight will be here almost before we know it now. We have lost one furnace full and we don't want to repeat the performance."
A few minutes later a cast was being made from number three. This time Bob worked on the gutters while Steve continued at his post as monkey-man, toiling in the burning heat, with parched, cracking lips and burning cheeks. Morning found all hands ready for home and bed.
"I wish I knew whether it would be right to see the superintendent," said Steve, as he was walking along with Mr. Peel on the way out.
"What for?"
"I think I have an idea that will perhaps make a great improvement in the furnace end of the business."
Pig-Iron laughed.
"Boy, there's bigger heads than yours thathave been working on all the problems for a long time. What they haven't thought of you never would. But, if you think you've got an idea in your head, just go see the super, and get it off your mind. I know how you feel."
"Thank you; it isn't troubling me to that extent."
Pig-Iron first went to the offices of the company to make his personal report of the hang-over and the flare-back that had so upset their night's work. He made his report to Superintendent Keating direct, as was the custom after the formal report had been made to the division superintendent.
Mr. Keating asked Peel about the Iron Boys, whereupon Pig-Iron, in his blunt way, told the general superintendent about Steve's plucky fight for the mastery of himself before the furnace and of his eventual winning out. He told the official some further facts that interested Mr. Keating very much.
About four o'clock that afternoon as the Iron Boys were eating their breakfasts, or in this case their dinners, a messenger called at the Brodsky house with an order for Steve Rush to call at the office of the superintendent before he went to the mills to work.
Rush did not know what was wanted, of course, but this time he did not believe he wasbeing called up to be criticized. He hurried through his meal, and, making himself presentable, walked over to the offices. In due time he was admitted. Mr. Keating greeted him cordially. He was courteous to all of his men until they showed themselves unworthy of that courtesy. In such cases the superintendent was curt and brief in what he had to say and he did not smile into their faces as he talked to them.
A pleasant smile wreathed his countenance this afternoon.
"Your head melter has been in to-day, Rush," he said.
"Yes, sir?"
"He had some very pleasant things to say about you and Jarvis, in his rough way. I assure you I was very glad to hear that you are doing so well. I was sure you would. You have the pluck and you will make your way to better things, in the steel business. Neither of you was hurt last night, were you?"
"Not at all, sir."
"Mr. Peel tells me, among other things, that you have an idea for an improvement of some sort about the furnaces," said Mr. Keating, with a rare twinkle in his eyes.
Steve flushed.
"I thought I had. He rather made fun of me for even thinking I had an idea."
"And you therefore dropped it, eh?"
"No, sir. It is stronger than ever."
"That's the way to talk. Do not allow yourself to be swerved from a worthy purpose."
"I never do. It results in my being called hard-headed sometimes."
"We like to encourage our young men to make suggestions. Unfortunately we do not get many of value from the rank and file. Those men either have not had experience enough to suggest valuable improvements, or else they are of too low an order of intelligence to do so. What was your idea?"
"It was in connection with the waste gas from the stoves."
"Indeed." Mr. Keating was interested at once.
"Yes, sir; there is a great deal of waste gas, is there not?"
"Much more than I wish there was."
"You buy your gas from the city plant, do you not, if it is not an impertinent question?"
"We do."
"And it must cost you a great deal of money."
"It does."
"Have you ever thought of any way to avoid the waste of so much of it from the furnaces, then?"
"We certainly have, my lad."
"May I ask how you have tried to utilize it?"
"We have tried to devise some system by which it might all be consumed in the heating stoves. This, thus far has appeared impracticable for the reason that, by holding it in the furnaces we were likely to get a serious blow-out some time."
"That is the only way in which you have tried to use it?"
"Yes. Was your suggestion along this line?"
"Not exactly."
"How then?"
"I may be foolish, sir, but it struck me that the waste gas might be used to operate some sort of machinery in the mills."
"Hm-m-m!" reflected Mr. Keating, not fully catching the drift of the Iron Boy's suggestion. "What machinery?"
"I visited the gas engines a few days ago, and I was very much interested in them. I took the liberty of inquiring how much gas was used to run them, and when I got home I figured it down to dollars. It came to a very large figure."
"You are getting into the business deeply, young man."
"Perhaps I had no business to do so, but I was interested."
"Go on; what do you propose?"
"My idea is that you might run part or all of those gas engines with the waste from your blast furnaces, sir," answered Rush boldly.
"Hm-mm!"
Mr. Keating was surveying his caller quizzically. Steve looked him steadily in the eyes.
"How did you happen to get that idea?"
"It came to me when my friend Jarvis was complaining about the gases up on the charging platform. I do not know whether the idea is of any value to you. You are welcome to it if it is."
"We will discuss that phase of it later," answered Mr. Keating, somewhat sharply.
"You see, I have something of a personal interest in saving money. I am a sort of stockholder in the Steel Corporation."
"You are?" exclaimed Mr. Keating, plainly showing his surprise.
"Yes, sir; my friend and myself hold a few thousand dollars of the company's stock, on which we are drawing dividends."
"May I ask where you got the stock?"
"The officials of the Cousin Jack Mine gave us some, and with money that Mr. Carrhart gave us we bought some more. We are going to load up on steel with the money we earn hereafter," answered the boy proudly.
Mr. Keating laughed heartily.
"You won't buy very much on the wages you are getting here at present," he said.
"No, sir; not much, but we are not always going to work for the wages we are now drawing."
"You are right you are not. Let me ask how you would get the waste gas to the gas engines. Have you thought of that?"
"Yes, sir. Pipe it."
Mr. Keating rose, and stepping to the door of an adjoining office, called:
"Mr. Phillips, will you be good enough to come in here?"
The chief engineer of the mills entered the room in response to the summons.
THE CHIEF EXPRESSES HIMSELF
"PHILLIPS, this is young Rush, Steve Rush."
The chief engineer nodded, shooting a quick glance at the Iron Boy, after which he fixed his eyes on the face of the superintendent.
"Rush and a friend of his, named Jarvis, have come down from the mines. They are learning the business with the intention of making it their life work. Is that not it, Rush?"
"Yes, sir."
"Mr. Carrhart has recommended them very highly, and I am beginning to learn that his recommendation was well within the facts. These boys have heads on them, Phillips. You are wondering what I am getting at, I see. Rush is working on the blast furnaces. Let's see, what are you doing there?" asked Mr. Keating, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"I am the monkey-man on number four, sir, where there was a blow-out last night."
An amused smile flitted over the face of Mr. Phillips at the announcement. He was not taking the interview very seriously, as Steve quickly observed.
"The young man has had other blow-outs, but he bears a charmed life, I am inclined to think. Let's see, you were blown to the roof in the pit explosion in the open-hearth building, were you not!"
"No, sir; that was Bob Jarvis."
"Oh, yes; you were the man who was in the other pit. I remember now."
Steve nodded. He did not particularly like the personal trend of the conversation. It embarrassed him. He wanted to change the subject, but he knew Mr. Keating well enough to understand that the general superintendent must first indulge in his little pleasantries before getting down to business.
"And what is more, Phillips, they are both stockholders in the company. What do you think of that for a couple of youngsters working for a dollar a day?" demanded Steve's torturer triumphantly.
The chief engineer smiled more broadly now.
"Very remarkable, Mr. Keating. Regular infant prodigies." He was wondering, by this time, what the superintendent was getting at, knowing that there was some purpose behind Mr. Keating's good-natured raillery.
"Did you wish me to make a place for them?"
"I am afraid they would not accept if you did."
"Oh!"
"Rush has an idea that he can save us some money. He has told me what his suggestion is, and now I want him to repeat it to you. Go ahead, Steve, and tell Mr. Phillips what you have said to me."
This was different. It had been comparatively easy for the boy to tell his story in the first place, because it was backed by his enthusiasm. That enthusiasm had in a measure been squeezed out of him by Mr. Keating's jesting remarks. Steve plucked up courage, gazing straight at the now cold, inquiring eyes of the chief engineer.
"My suggestion is for the utilization of the waste gases from the stoves at the blast furnaces across the river," announced the boy.
"Indeed?"
"Yes, sir."
"Let me hear your ideas on the subject."
Rush began at first haltingly, then warming to his subject as he went on, repeating very nearly in the same words, what he already had told the superintendent. As he progressed real interest began to dawn in the eyes of the chief engineer. Now and then he would halt the boy to ask a question, but the interruptions were of such a nature as not to disturb Steve. At last the Iron Boy came to a conclusion.
"Beyond that, sir, I cannot go just now, not having the requisite technical knowledge. All that I have suggested may not amount to much," he added with a smile.
"It will do very well for an apprentice," nodded the engineer, with a significant glance at Mr. Keating. "What do you think about it?"
"Very remarkable."
"You say you would convey this waste gas to the gas engines?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know where they are?"
"Yes, sir; on this side of the river."
"How would you get it over here?"
"Through pipes, of course. The gas would lose none of its virtue in transit. It is carried much further than that to the mills already. It strikes me that gas from other parts of the yards might be conveyed to the leader pipe in the same way, and thus give you enough gas to run your engines without having to draw further on the city supply."
"How would you carry these pipes across the river—under water?" asked the engineer.
"No, sir; the pipes would rust through, would they not, and give you a lot of trouble?"
Mr. Phillips nodded.
"Your idea is correct."
"I should elevate them over the river."
"If there are any other intricate problems that you are unable to work out, Phillips, just call on my boys," laughed Mr. Keating.
"Yes; I am inclined to that belief myself. Have you an hour that you can spare, Mr. Keating?"
"Certainly. There is nothing more to be done here this afternoon."
"How about you, Rush?"
"I have to report for duty within the hour."
"What is it you want, Phillips?"
"I was about to suggest that Rush accompany us over to the furnaces, but if he has to report for the night trick there will not be time."
"We will attend to that part of it. You will want to return home, of course, to change your clothes before going to work?"
"Yes, sir," Steve nodded.
The superintendent pushed a button and one of his clerks responded.
"Send word to the head melter of number four blast that Mr. Rush will not be on duty this evening, on the superintendent's order; that the young man is engaged on another matter for me," directed Mr. Keating.
Steve's eyes glowed, not because he did not have to work, but because there seemed reasonto believe that the plan he had so carefully thought out was going to be seriously considered both by the superintendent and the chief engineer of the great steel works.
"That disposes of all your objections, doesn't it, Rush?" asked Mr. Keating.
"It disposes of the obstacles. I had no objections," smiled the Iron Boy.
"I stand corrected, sir," said Mr. Keating. "We will start if you are ready, Phillips."
"As soon as I get my hat. I will join you on the outside."
A few moments later they were walking briskly along toward the yards, Mr. Keating and the engineer together, Steve a little in advance of them.
"What do you think of my young man?" asked Mr. Keating.
"Rush? He is a very bright young fellow. You say he came down from the iron range?"
"Yes, he and his friend Jarvis, I am told, were forging rapidly toward the front there. They shipped on an ore boat to learn that part of the business and then came down here to enter the mills. From a salary of more than a hundred dollars a month the boys are now receiving the munificent wage of a dollar a day. You do not need to know anything more than that about them, do you?"
"No; that should be sufficient to establish their sincerity of purpose."
"I should say so," emphasized the superintendent. "What do you think of Rush's proposal?"
"I can answer that question better after I have looked over the ground and figured on the proposal a little."
"It is a wonder we never thought of it before."
"It is. Still, many important discoveries have been made by persons unfamiliar with the subject, as against the experiments of years by men trained to that particular profession."
"See here, Phillips, don't you try to throw cold water on the achievements of my boys. I won't have it."
"Not at all, not at all. When I am convinced that the boy has suggested a good thing I shall be just as enthusiastic as you are over it."
"You professional men are a cold-blooded lot, aren't you?"
"Do you wish to cross the metal bridge, or to go around the long way?" interrupted Steve halting to permit them to catch up with him.
"We will take the bridge," answered the superintendent. "The hour is getting late and we have quite a little to look over before dark."
Steve had already turned and was stridingtoward the bridge. As they reached it a metal train was just approaching. The Iron Boy halted to wait for the two men to come up, whereupon he fell in behind them, not for any particular reason, but because some instinct told him to do so.
Mr. Keating and Mr. Phillips were engaged in earnest conversation discussing the plan proposed by Steve, so that they did not take particular notice of what was going on about them. They were used to walking along the narrow footpath by the side of the tracks on the bridge that hung high over the river, so that neither man was timid. They raised their voices to make themselves heard above the thunder of the hot metal train, as with its load of red hot pig-iron, it hurried on.
The middle of the train was just abreast of them when Rush's quick eyes saw one of the big red molds swaying dangerously. This he could not understand, for the molds were supposed to be bolted to the cars, which was the case with all of the molds used in the transit of the pig-iron to the refining open-hearth furnaces.
Steve watched the swaying mold as the train rolled along. Suddenly the flat car bearing this particular mold, lurched sideways. For one breathless instant the red hot pig of iron hungmotionless then plunged from the car. Steve Rush was no longer inactive. The indecision that had suddenly taken possession of him, left him on the second.
"Look out!" shouted the boy.
Mr. Keating turned sharply to see what the lad wanted. He knew that some danger menaced them, but he did not know the nature of that danger.
There was no time for explanations. A second would mean serious, if not fatal, injury to the two men.
The Iron Boy darted forward. Both hands were thrust forward, and with a mighty push he sent the chief engineer and the general superintendent of the mills staggering forward. They fell flat on the narrow footpath. At the same time Steve lost his balance and fell, right in the path of the five-ton mold of red hot iron. Yet the Iron Boy's presence of mind did not leave him for a second.
The bar of pig struck the planking of the footpath, went through it as if the planking had been paper and a few seconds later, hit the waters of the Monongahela, with a mighty splash from which a cloud of steam rose in the air.
The two men picked themselves up quickly.
"What is it? What does it mean?" demandedMr. Phillips angrily. "Who pushed me? Who pushedus?"
"The boy who saved our lives," answered the superintendent. "Don't you see what happened?"
"No; I will confess that I do not. Something happened to the train, did it not?"
"A pig fell off, mold and all. It is down at the bottom of the river, now, as you can see by glancing down there at the cloud of steam."
Mr. Phillip's face paled. He was used to narrow escapes, but this was the narrowest of all in his wide experience.
"Is—is it possible?" he gasped.
"It is a wonder that it didn't derail the whole train. We certainly should have met our finish if that had been the case."
"It was a rare exhibition of presence of mind. I never saw anything like it in my life."
"It was, indeed."
"But where is the boy Rush?"
"Whe—where—where——" breathed the superintendent, his face slowly blanching. "I declare, Phillips, he must have been caught under the pig and carried down to his death!"
The chief engineer shook his head sadly, leaning over the rail without a word as he gazed down into the river with averted face, that his companion might not see his emotion.
RAKED BY THE "PIG"
"LOOK!" shouted Mr. Phillips.
Far down below them the head of a man bobbed out of the water as the cloud of steam drifted slowly away.
"What is it?"
"There's somebody in the river."
"It's Rush. Where is he?"
Mr. Keating was greatly excited. He ran here and there, hoping to get a clearer view of the water.
"There, there!"
"Rush! Rush! Is that you?" he called with hands to mouth.
An arm was raised from the water and waved at them.
"It's he! He's safe, he's safe, Phillips!" cried the superintendent, dancing about excitedly.
"Look out, Keating! What's the matter with you? You'll have us both in the river, the first thing you know."
The two gray-haired men shook hands, patted each other on the shoulder and laughed like schoolboys in the excess of their joy.
"Can you swim?" called the superintendent.
"Yes, I'll meet you on the other side," was the reply faintly borne to their ears.
"Come on, Phillips." Mr. Keating started on a run for the other side of the river, for which Rush was swimming steadily. The banks were high and steep on the far side, but there was an excellent beach, so that the Iron Boy had no difficulty in making a landing. He was obliged, however, to go around for some distance before finding a place to climb to the top.
Arriving finally, Steve found the superintendent and chief engineer pacing up and down the bank waiting for him. They grasped the lad's hands, each seeking to outdo the other in expressing their appreciation of what he had done.
"But what is troubling us is to understand how you were carried down by that pig and yet not killed?" questioned Mr. Keating.
"The pig did not carry me down."
"It didn't?"
"Certainly not. This is the only place the pig touched me."
Steve exhibited a rent in his lower trousers' leg on the right side, and parting this showed them a burn right down the leg. The burn looked an inch deep.
"Man alive, you must get to the hospital as quickly as you can!" commanded the superintendent.
Look! Shouted Mr. Phillips."Look!" Shouted Mr. Phillips.
"Look!" Shouted Mr. Phillips.
"Yes, I should think I were about finished if I had such a burn as that. The pig raked you there, didn't it?" asked Mr. Phillips.
"Yes, sir. But it doesn't matter much. It smarts a little, that is all. It isn't the first time I have been burned. Shall we go on to the furnaces?"
"We certainly shall not," emphasized Mr. Keating. "You are going to the hospital and have that wound dressed before you get it ground full of dirt and contract blood-poisoning. We will stop in here at Mr. McNaughton's office."
Steve did not want them to give so much attention to him. He was anxious to get to the furnaces and talk over his plan with the chief engineer and the superintendent. Instead, the superintendent was at that moment telephoning to the company's hospital, ordering a surgeon to come to the division superintendent's office to dress a burn.
The three sat down to talk while awaiting the surgeon. Of course Steve steered the conversation around to the plan he had proposed. Mr. Keating watched the boy's face narrowly. He could not understand how Rush could sit there so calmly and indifferently with a wound suchas he had, but the only indication that the Iron Boy felt the slightest discomfort was a twitching of his face, now and then, as sharp pains shot through the wound.
"You haven't told us yet, how you got out from under the pig, Rush," questioned Mr. Phillips. "To me that was a most remarkable escape."
"Not so very. I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances. I dived through the ties under the car. I did not dare jump in either of the other three directions for fear the mold would fall on me. The train was still moving, so it was a question of taking a chance of being run over by the train or hit by the pig. I decided to take a chance under the train. Did you see me drop?" asked Steve with a laugh.
"No; we did not."
"I must have made an exhibition of myself. I turned so many somersaults going down that I lost myself completely. It was a clumsy tumble."
The two officials looked at each other wonderingly. At that juncture, Mr. McNaughton broke in.
"Here's a suit of jeans you can put on if you wish, Rush," he said. "You look like a half drowned hen. The jeans are clean."
"Thank you; I will put them on," answeredSteve gratefully. "These wet clothes feel rather uncomfortable against the skin. I shall have to do without underclothes until I get home, I guess. Where shall I change?"
"Go in the wash room there."
Mr. Phillips mopped his brow after Steve had left the room, then moved over near the electric fan. Mr. Keating was regarding him with an amused smile.
"Rather surprised you, eh?"
"Keating, that boy has the most remarkable courage of any person I ever saw. It is a courage born of his intelligence. I wish you would let me have him in my department."
The general superintendent shook his head.
"I doubt very much if he would take the position. As I told you, he wishes to learn the mill business, and you and I know that there is only one way to do that—to work like a slave, toil from morning till night, doing the work with one's own hands. That is the way you and I learned the business."
"Yes, but you must recollect the work wasn't the same in those days. We didn't endure the hardships that the men of to-day endure. Do you object to my asking Rush if he would like to step into the engineering department?"
"Certainly not. I should be glad to see him with you."
Steve came out in his clean jeans, looking as fresh and cheerful as if he had not just passed through such a thrilling experience. The boy's eyes were bright and his face wore a pleasant smile.
"How do you feel?" asked both men at once.
"I never felt better, thank you," answered Rush. "Here comes the doctor."
The surgeon examined the wound, shaking his head as he finished.
"You had better go to the hospital and lay up for a day. That is a bad burn, Rush."
"Oh, I couldn't think of it. Dress it right here, and be as quick about it as you can, won't you? I've got business on hand this afternoon."
"The business will keep," retorted Mr. Keating. "You had better do as the doctor suggests."
"I hope you will not insist upon that, Mr. Keating. I do not want to lie up. I shall feel much better if I am busy, and if the wound is well bandaged no dirt can get in it."
"Is it safe, doctor?" questioned the superintendent.
"Well, yes, if nothing comes of it," was the equivocal reply.
"Very well; patch him up. Have your own way, Rush. I suppose you would do that anyway. You are a very headstrong young man."
"I have been told that before, sir, though I do not intend to be headstrong."
"No, I understand. You just can't help it; that's all."
While his wound was being dressed Steve joined in the conversation of the officials, though the dressing of the wound hurt him dreadfully. Once or twice he winced, his voice hesitated; then he went on apparently oblivious to what the surgeon was doing.
None of this was lost on the general superintendent and his chief engineer, and though Steve Rush did not know it, he was making capital for himself at a very rapid rate.
At last, the dressing of the wound having been finished, Steve rose, announcing himself as ready to accompany them.
"I am sorry to have delayed you so, gentlemen," he said politely.
"Pshaw!" grunted the superintendent. "It wasn't you, but the pig that was responsible for the delay. You are responsible for our being alive at the present moment. As to whether that is a matter for congratulation, there might be a difference of opinion."
The men and the boy left the division superintendent's office laughing happily, and though Steve Rush was a humble apprentice in the mills, these men treated him as an equal, whichthey knew him to be. The trio proceeded directly to the furnaces. Though the hour was late they went immediately at the business that had brought them there. Their first work was to examine the furnace stoves, to decide where changes would have to be made if it were decided to adopt the new plan. To do this all three climbed to the top of one of the stoves.
"Where was it your idea to make your connections, Rush?" asked the chief engineer. "This might not be a bad place at the top."
"You know best, but I think I should begin up here with the pipe connection, carrying the pipe down to the bottom of the stove, with frequent intakes. There will be no danger of fire getting into the pipe, will there?"
"No; that can be guarded against, unless there should be an explosion, against which we cannot protect ourselves."
"It seems to me that an automatic valve might be invented that would shut off the feed pipe in case of an explosion."
"That is an excellent idea. Suppose you try it?"
"Oh, I am afraid I couldn't do that. I am not a mechanic."
"Try it," replied the engineer.
The officials talked rapidly for the next few minutes, as darkness was fast settling downover the yards, and the flame from the furnaces began to cast shadows here and there. Much of the conversation was so technical that Steve could only surmise what the men were talking about. At last they concluded their discussion and started away. Steve was left at the exit from the yards, from where he proceeded on to his boarding place.
"Well, Phillips, now that we have gone over this thing, what do you think about it? Can it be made to work out as Rush believes it will?"
"Keating, it is the most practicable plan for the utilization of the waste gas that has ever been suggested to me. I see no reason, now, why we should not adopt it, nor why the company should not be saved thousands of dollars a year through the change," was the emphatic reply.
DIRECTORS GET A SHOCK
ON the following morning the plans of the furnaces were taken to the office of the general superintendent, where he and the chief engineer went into earnest consultation. The result of the conversation was that draughtsmen were called in, and the plan made as clear to them as possible, so that they might prepare rough drawings of the proposed change.
These rough drawings were submitted late that afternoon, and Rush was sent for to report at the superintendent's office. Together the three went over the plans in detail.
"Have you anything to suggest?" asked the engineer, after explaining the drawings.
Steve had some slight changes to suggest, but in the main his ideas had been fairly well followed out by the draughtsmen. He did suggest, however, that the action should be not hasty; that perhaps defects would develop if they should take more time for consideration.
Both officials agreed that this was wise, and besides it was thought best to lay the whole matter before the directors for their approval or disapproval.
A week passed, during which time many changes were made and new drawings and blueprints prepared. Steve had gone back to his work at the furnace, where he and Bob worked faithfully, becoming more and more familiar with the particular branch of the steel industry with which they were connected. The meeting of the directors was to take place at the end of that week, and Mr. Keating requested Steve to be present. This Steve did not wish to do. It seemed to him like crowding himself on the attention of the president of the steel company, as well as the other officials who would be present.
The superintendent, seeing how reluctant the boy was to attend the meeting, withdrew his request, as there was no real necessity for Steve's being there. Mr. Keating had hoped to do just what Rush did not wish him to—call the attention of the officials sharply to the Iron Boy.
"You are too modest, young man," said Mr. Keating with a laugh. "But I shall see that you lose nothing by being so. I am going to tell the directors plainly that you are wholly responsible for the plan, of which none of us ever had thought, and I am going to suggest that you be appointed to a place worth while."
"Not until I have earned it," answered Steve with emphasis.
"It strikes me that you have already earned promotion, young man."
"I do not mean it in that way, I mean that I do not wish promotion until I have passed through all the successive stages and learned the steel business from the bottom to the top. I expect I shall be about ready to die by that time," added the boy, with a faint smile. "There is a great deal more to learn that I had the least idea of."
"You are making rapid progress, I must say."
"If you wish to transfer me to some other department on the first of the month I shall appreciate the favor. I am, to a certain extent, familiar with the furnaces and I want to keep moving, sir."
"It shall be done. I had intended to do so without your request. I am glad, however, to have you make even a small request of me."
The meeting of the directors was a lengthy one. Their interest was aroused at once when the chief engineer rose and told them of the plans for utilizing the waste gas from the furnace stoves. He was assailed by questions from all sides. The directors were progressive men, and they quickly realized the value of the suggestion if it could be applied.
The question of the cost was taken up andthis Mr. Phillips had figured down to the minutest detail. He was enabled to tell them that, barring accidents, the cost of the construction and material would reach a certain figure.
After listening, the directors adopted the suggestions entire. One of them rose and proposed a vote of thanks to the chief engineer and to the superintendent.
Mr. Keating was on his feet at once.
"Gentlemen, while we appreciate your kindness it would be unfair for Mr. Phillips and myself to assume the credit for the plans you have passed upon this afternoon. Mr. Phillips will verify what I say when I tell you that the suggestion did not come from us. Frankly, we had never thought of it; perhaps never should have thought of it. The credit belongs to some one else."
"Who is he?" asked one of the directors.
"A young apprentice in the mills. His name is Rush, Stephen Rush. The whole idea is his own almost exactly as has been adopted by yourselves. He is a furnace man at number four, he and his friend, a boy named Jarvis, also a remarkable young man."
"Then we must do something for this young fellow. His suggestion is a good one. Do you think he realizes how valuable it is?"
"Oh, yes," answered Mr. Keating with asmile. "He was well aware of that before he made the suggestion. It was its value to the mills that led him to offer it."
"How much does he want?" questioned the director.
"Nothing, so far as I know. He is not that kind."
"Then I will propose," said the director rather pompously, "that we make the young gentleman a present of fifty dollars in gold. That ought to be a whole lot of money for him."
"Oughtn't we to make it more than that?" asked another of the board. "It seems like a rather small sum for the service rendered, seeing that we shall save thousands of dollars a year by the process."
"No; it is a great plenty. That's the way to spoil these young fellows. They get an exaggerated idea of their importance."
"I beg your pardon; these boys do not," interrupted the general superintendent, though it was not his place to interfere. "It will take more than fifty dollars in gold to spoil either of them."
"It's enough. It is a very fine present, and the boy will be delighted with it, you see if he isn't."
The directors voted to make Steve Rush a present as proposed by the member of the boardwho had fixed the amount. Mr. Keating glanced significantly at the chief engineer, and the chief engineer glanced significantly at the superintendent.
It was decided that the work should be begun at once. All the material for the purpose was in stock in the mills, save the cement for the concrete abutment out in the middle of the river. It was necessary to construct this to hold up the heavy pipe that was to convey the gas across the river to operate the gas engines.
Practically all of the further details were left to Mr. Keating and Mr. Phillips, for the two men possessed the entire confidence of the board, as was naturally the case. They would not have been in their responsible positions had they not been tried and true men.
The superintendent was ordered to hand Steve Rush the money as voted by the board, and for the purpose of carrying out his orders Mr. Keating summoned Steve to the office after the board meeting.
The lad reported. He was called in to the private office before all the directors had left. The president of the corporation was there, the secretary and two directors. They looked at the manly young fellow with more than ordinary interest. Mr. Keating introduced Steve to them.
"What, that young gentleman a furnace hand? Impossible!" exclaimed the president. "Why, he appears like a man of culture and education. I wonder how he will take the fifty dollar proposition?"
He was soon to learn. Mr. Keating rose and proceeded to express the thanks of the board of directors for Steve Rush's great service to the company, to all of which the boy listened attentively, but without emotion, looking the superintendent steadily in the eyes.
"I am instructed by the board, Rush, to ask you to accept a slight token of their appreciation. Here are fifty dollars in gold that the board has voted to you. I hope you will take it in the same spirit in which it is offered."
Steve never knew whether the superintendent meant to be sarcastic or not, but the boy was inclined to think not under the circumstances. Rush drew himself up, his shoulders squared back a little further than was their wont, while a faint color suffused his cheeks.
"I thank you, gentlemen, but I cannot accept it."
"Not accept it?" demanded the secretary. "Perhaps it is not enough to suit you, sir?"
There was sarcasm in the tone of the secretary, certainly. His associates gave him a glance of disapproval. Steve turned towardhim with the same steady gaze that he had fixed on the superintendent during the latter's remarks.
"Sir, were I the kind of man who was looking for that sort of reward, fifty dollars certainly would be considered inadequate when one considers that the new plan will save your company thousands of dollars."
The directors started back in surprise. Such words as these, from an employé, were unusual to say the least.
"Then—then you want more money, eh?" almost shouted the secretary. "So that's where the shoe pinches, is it?"
"No, sir; the shoe doesn't pinch at all. I am paid by this company for my services, paid the same as my fellow-workers are paid. If, in the course of my employment, I am able to make any improvements or to suggest improvements that will better the service, I consider that such suggestions or improvements are wholly the property of my employer. I am neither entitled to nor wish additional pay for them. Believe me, gentlemen, I should not be backward about asking for what I thought rightfully belonged to me. I hope none of you will misunderstand me. May I retire, sir?" he added, turning questioningly to Mr. Keating.
The superintendent nodded. Steve's boldstand had frustrated Mr. Keating as well as the others. For a few seconds after Rush's departure no one spoke; then, all at once the president burst out laughing.
"That's the time you met your match, I am thinking, Conkling."
"An impudent young rascal!" exploded the secretary. "To think he would dare stand there and insult us in that fashion. It was the most outrageous thing I ever heard of."
"Wait; hold on, Conkling," protested the president.
"I demand his discharge. We don't want a man like that in our employ."
"Now don't get excited. Are we going to let a monkey-man from furnace four involve this board in a fight?" The president's eyes twinkled merrily. He was enjoying the situation.
"I—I don't care; he must be discharged."
"On the contrary, Conkling, he will stay. That young man is just the kind of man we want here."
The superintendent spoke with considerable emphasis.
"What he says is true, Conkling, so far as the fifty dollars is concerned," continued the president. "Had I known what sort of boy we had to deal with I certainly should have insisted onyour voting him more money or else none at all."
"He would not have accepted it under the circumstances," interrupted Mr. Keating.
"No; that is quite evident, and I respect him for his position. You must admit, gentlemen, that Rush's viewpoint is somewhat unusual these days. How much is he earning, Keating?"
"His wages are a dollar a day."
"Then promote him at once."
"I have offered to, but he doesn't want it. He is working his way up, and desires to follow the same course that any one does in going through the mills. Mr. Carrhart is responsible for his being here. He takes a very keen interest in both boys."
"Oh, he does, eh?"
"Yes, sir. The young men are not in want. Each of them own several thousand dollars worth of stock in this company."
"What?" almost shrieked the secretary who had not yet recovered his equilibrium.
The president laughed uproariously.
"This is too good. Here we've been voting a paltry fifty dollars to a man who is practically entitled to call us to account for so doing. We are his employés as much as he is ours. This is too good! I shall have to tell that story atthe club," and the president indulged in another burst of laughter.
No one enjoyed the discomfiture of the secretary more than Mr. Keating and Mr. Phillips. The faces of both men bore smiles that they were unable to hide. The directors left soon after that. In going out, the president approached the superintendent.
"Keating, I hope you will look out for that young man."
"You may depend upon my doing so. I already have taken a great interest in both of them."
"I suppose I ought to order you to dismiss him, for if we men don't look out he'll be grabbing our own jobs some of these days."
The president went away, chuckling at his own witticism. After they had gone the two dignified men, namely, Superintendent Keating and Chief Engineer Phillips leaned back in their chairs and indulged in a good laugh at the directors' expense.
AN UNLOOKED-FOR PROMOTION
SEVERAL days later, Steve and Bob were invited to the home of the chief engineer to spend the evening and to take dinner with him. They were greatly surprised at the invitation. At the same time they were informed that permission had been obtained from the superintendent for them to remain away from their work.
The Iron Boys were pleased, yet they did not exactly like the idea of losing a night's work. They were not there for social reasons; they were at the mills for a well-defined purpose—a purpose with which nothing must interfere.
The boys talked over the invitation for some time before finally deciding to accept. Steve thought that perhaps it were best. Mr. Phillips had taken such a kindly interest in them. The boys valued the friendship of the chief engineer and the superintendent, and they were beginning to look to the latter for advice and suggestions relating to their personal affairs.
"All right; we will go," decided Rush. "Behave yourself, Bob," he warned.
"Don't I always?" demanded Jarvis.
"You're open to suspicion, at times."
That night found them at Mr. Phillips' home, dressed in their best. Their host was justly proud of his young guests. He introduced them to his family, consisting of his wife and two daughters; and the Iron Boys appeared as much at their ease as though quite used to going out in society. They surprised even Mr. Phillips. Bob Jarvis never had appeared to better advantage, though he had not yet grown a fresh crop of eyebrows since his entanglement with the hang-over at the top of number four.
After dinner the boys were invited to the engineer's library, where the blue prints of the new plan lay spread out on a flat-top desk. Steve recognized them at once, and he drew the swift conclusion that their invitation there that evening had to do with the proposed improvements.
Cigars were brought out and offered to the boys, which they politely declined, whereat Mr. Phillips nodded approvingly.
"There are a few questions I should like to ask you about certain phases of this work," he said sitting down and drawing the blue prints toward him.
Steve and Bob stepped up to the desk. Mr. Phillips asked them how they would guard against this or that contingency; how manymen could work to advantage, and questions that Steve Rush knew very well the chief engineer could answer better than they possibly could.
"He's putting us out on the firing line for some reason," thought the boy. "He is getting at something. I wonder what it is?"
Jarvis was beginning to arrive at the same conclusion, for Bob was a shrewd boy, too, and could read between the lines, if the lines were not too close together.
Other questions of a similar nature were asked, all of which the boys answered, discussing the work intelligently and to the point.
From that the engineer went on to a discussion of the mines where the Iron Boys had been employed before coming to Steelburgh. Little by little he drew out the story of their work and experiences on the iron range in the north country. He became deeply interested, and before the lads realized that they had done so, the story of their career, up to the present, had been told.
"Then you both have had experience in managing men?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," answered Steve.
"I am glad of it, for it makes easier what I wish to do. My invitation to-night was not wholly without purpose."
"I am aware of that, sir," smiled Rush.
"Oh, you are, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is my purpose?"
"I am sure I don't know. I knew you were drawing us out for some reason. I did wonder what it was."
"You are shrewd. Yes, I have been drawing you out, partly because I knew your story was an interesting one, and also because it might have a bearing on what I had in mind."
"Yes, sir."
"Would you lads consider dropping your mill work for a time?"
"What to do, sir?"
"To help put through this new plan of yours, to come directly to the point. When the work is finished you may return to your mill jobs if you wish, though I should like to make a proposition to you to join my department. There is a prosperous future in it."
Steve reflected over what the engineer had said. There were reasons why he wanted to accept, and others why he did not believe it would be wise. Jarvis left the whole matter in the hands of his companion, and he said so when Steve asked him for his ideas on the subject.
"Very well, Mr. Phillips; if you think weshall be of any service to you we shall be glad to aid you to the best of our ability. I am afraid you are overrating our abilities. This will be new work for us and the probabilities are that we shall not make a very brilliant success of it."
"I am willing to take the risk. You don't ask what I want you to do?" smiled the chief engineer.
"It doesn't matter. Whatever you think we can do best we will gladly do."
"That's the sort of talk that I like to hear. I'll tell you what I wish you to do. I am going to make you two young men foremen in full charge of the work, under myself and my assistant engineers, of course. How does the proposition strike you."
"Why—why, Mr. Phillips," stammered Steve.
"This is so sudden," murmured Jarvis under his breath; but the chief engineer heard him and laughed, much to Bob's confusion.
"I am afraid you have given us a rather large contract, sir," continued Rush. "Don't you think you could find some one much better fitted for the work than we are?"
"I am taking all the chances. That I am willing to do so should be evidence to you that I know what I am doing."
"Very good, sir; we shall do our best to merit your confidence. Is there any time limit on the work?"
"That is the point exactly. The work must be done within the next two weeks. The board has fixed that time limit. Now that they find they will be able to save money by the new arrangement, they are anxious to get the plan in working order at the earliest possible day. It is my plan to make each of you a foreman, and to let you arrange the work to the best advantage. How will you work it?"
"Work from opposite sides of the river," answered Steve. "Jarvis on one side and myself on the other. While the men are building the abutment in the middle of the river we can be running the line to the furnaces and to the gas engine house on the other side. In the meantime your experts can be making the connections at each end, so that there shall be no loss of time at any given point."
"Fine, fine!" nodded Mr. Phillips. "That is a most excellent plan. It's good generalship, and that is what counts in the battles of the industrial world, as well as the battles between the armed powers of the world."
"When do you wish the operations to begin?"
"To-morrow morning."
"Will Mr. Keating permit us to drop our work at the furnaces?"
"That has been arranged. You are free to start in to-morrow."
"Is there any increase in pay for the new work? Of course it is worth more than what we have been doing."
"Certainly. You are perfectly right in raising this question. I took it up with the superintendent this afternoon. We decided that twenty dollars a week would be a fair figure for the work while you are at it. Will that be satisfactory."
"Yes, sir," answered the Iron Boys together. "I presume you will have the men assigned from the different departments. You see, we do not know them and should not be able to gather a force suited to our requirements."
"That has been attended to also."