The Iron Boys in the Steel Mills; or, Beginning Anew in the Cinder Pits

  CHAPTER III

  IN THE CINDER PIT

  Bob Jarvis had been a little doubtful when Steve told him of the changein their work. Bob thought the present job was quite good enough, allbut the pay; yet he was willing to get along on twelve dollars a week solong as he had so much leisure time.

  On the following morning the two boys reported for duty to the foremanof number seven hearth, Bill Foley. There was a gleam of quietsatisfaction in the eyes of the foreman as he saw the boys coming towardhis division. He had been informed that they were to work on a trick innumber seven section. Foley did not know why the change had been made.He believed that, for some reason, the boys had been reduced to theranks. The only directions he had received regarding what was to be donewith the Iron Boys was the injunction of the assistant superintendent'smessenger, to "make them work till they can't tell a cinder pit from ahole in the ground."

  Foley grinned.

  "You bet they'll work! Everybody in my division works."

  Foley's head pitman was a Pole named Watski Kalinski, a heavy-faced man,surly and quarrelsome at times, especially with the few men that wereunder him. He understood cleaning the cinder pits, however, and he waskept in his place because of the work that his shift got through with,rather than for any especial intelligence that he might possess; which,as a matter of fact, he did not.

  Foley beckoned to him.

  "Put those two boys in number seven pit."

  "Easy or light?" grinned Watski.

  "Easy or light, you mutton-head. That don't mean anything. I know whatyou are getting at, but I'll have you understand that these younggentlemen are friends of mine. Give them the best you have in thehouse."

  The words had apparently been spoken in all sincerity, but Watskigrinned knowingly.

  "I'll make the children happy, Mr. Foley. Do they begin this morning?"

  "Yes; start them off now. I'll be around later in the day to help carryout the remains."

  Watski chuckled. He walked over to where Bob and Steve stood waiting fororders to go to work, surveying them from his beady, red eyes; beadybecause nature had made them so, red from the heat and the cinders ofyears in the mills.

  "What's your name?" he snapped.

  "Rush."

  Watski roared.

  "That's the trick. Your name's Rush and you'll be Rush, for you're goingto rush if you work in this section. What you been doing?"

  "What we have been doing doesn't matter, so far as you are concerned. Itis what we are going to do that concerns you. Will you please put us towork, or have some one do so who knows how?" asked Steve, perhaps with atouch of maliciousness in his tone.

  Kalinski bristled.

  "Put you to work? Get somebody to put you to work?"

  "That is what I wish, sir."

  "Shut up!"

  "Thank you, sir."

  "What's the other kid's name?"

  "My name is Bob Jarvis, and don't you take any liberties with it, unlessyou've got an accident insurance on your life."

  Watski's face wrinkled angrily. He clenched his fists, and for themoment it looked as though he would fall upon Jarvis and punish him forhis boldness. Bob turned the tide by asking:

  "When do we go to work? We're losing time?"

  "Yes; where do we work?" urged Steve.

  "See that cinder pit there?" leered the assistant.

  "Yes."

  "Get in! Got your shovels?"

  "No."

  Growling and making faces to himself the Pole walked abruptly away,returning a few minutes later with two shovels. He handed them to theboys, giving the lads a shove toward the cinder pit.

  "Be good enough to keep your hands off me, and at the same time kindlytell me exactly what you wish me to do," demanded Steve.

  "Wooden-heads! Fools! There is the shovels and there is the cinders. Getthem together; shovel the cinders out; then if you don't get enough workshovel them back again. Oh, such----"

  "Come on, Bob; Watski is getting excited. He is likely to throw a fitand fall on a hot plate, or something."

  Steve walked over to the pit, surveying it questioningly.

  "That looks pretty hot to me, sir. Is it ready to be thrown out?"

  Bob was standing on the edge gazing at the cinders. A faint cloud ofsteam was rising from the pit, on which the hose had been playedgingerly for some time.

  Watski gave him a push, Jarvis jumping to save falling in on his face.The drop was not more than two or three feet to the cinder bed, whichwas some fifteen feet broad at its top, tapering slightly toward thebottom.

  Bob went in up to his knees. No sooner had he done so than he uttered awild yell.

  "It's on fire! I'm burning up!" he howled. "Help me out of this hole!Wow!"

  Steve saw that Bob really was in distress.

  "Jump out, if it's too hot."

  "I can't. I'm stuck fast."

  Watski was doubled up with laughter. He howled with delight, sittingdown on the cinders with arms about his knees rocking back and forthwith shouts of merriment.

  In the meantime Steve threw his shovel into the pit, and crawling intothe pit, used the shovel for a support while he pulled his companionout.

  Bob's trousers were burned to the knees; his underclothing was burnedand the skin of his shins was blistered from contact with the hotcinders and slag.

  Steve was so angry that he could scarcely control himself, but he wasdetermined to avoid a fight if possible.

  "Did he do that on purpose?" demanded Jarvis.

  "He was in a hurry for us to get to work, and----"

  "Get busy there, you lazy louts or I'll dock you for lost time!"

  "You pushed me in!" shouted Bob. "You'd better not dock me. I'll havesomething to say about that."

  "What is this disturbance about?" demanded Foley, coming up at thatmoment. "Watski, why aren't these men at work?"

  "No good. Afraid of hot cinders."

  "Does that look like being afraid?" interjected Steve, pointing to hiscompanion's burned trousers. "I call that an outrage. However, we'll nottrouble about it this----"

  "You'd better not," growled Kalinski.

  "This time," added Rush. "But I hope nothing of the sort will happenagain. We are used to taking care of ourselves, and if we think we arebeing imposed upon we are likely to take matters into our own hands."

  "Is that a threat--a threat directed at Kalinski?" questioned Foley,ironically.

  "Oh, no. We do not make threats; that is, not until afterwards,perhaps," answered the lad significantly.

  "Don't you think it would be a pretty good idea for you men to get towork?" demanded Foley. "You won't last long at this rate."

  "If you can fix that pit so it will not burn the skin from our legs wewill go to work."

  "That's up to you."

  "Then I will see what I can do. I hope the Honorable Mr. Watski Kalinskiwill keep away, even if he is our boss."

  "Yes, he'd better keep his distance from me," growled Bob, who had beengrowing angrier as he gazed at the grinning pit boss.

  Rush, after a quick glance at both the foreman and pit boss, beganlooking about for a plank. He found a piece of the required length aftera time. This he threw into the pit, then climbed down on it. His shovelthrew out a quantity of the hot cinders. Kalinski got them full in theface. It had been purely an accident on Steve's part, for the boss hadchanged his position in order to look over into the pit to see what hisshoveler was doing.

  The cinders burned Watski's face; they filled his eyes and filtered downinside his shirt. The boss danced a jig for the next minute or so,slapping his chest, pulling his shirt as far from him as he could andshrinking back to keep the hot stuff from burning holes through hisskin.

  "Whoop!" howled Bob Jarvis. "Now, how do you like it? Got a dose of yourown hot stuff that time, didn't you? Good for you, Steve!"

  Rush's face reddened.

  "I am sorry, sir, but that was an accident. I did not know you werethere. I thought you were sitting down over yonder
."

  Watski could not speak. His rage was consuming him and the cinders werekeeping his hands fully occupied.

  "I say, sir, it was an accident."

  "It's a lie!" exploded the boss. "You--you did it on purpose!"

  With a growl of rage the Pole leaped into the pit, intending to reachthe plank. Steve hopped out on the opposite side and Kalinski fell onhis face in the hot cinders.

  Bob uttered a howl of delight. This was much better than he had hopedfor. Watski was getting his punishment without the boys having toadminister it, and he was getting it properly, judging from his yells.

  By this time several men had gathered about the pit, making no effort tohide their delight at the Pole's predicament.

  Rush hopped down to the plank, leaving his shovel on the ground. Hegrabbed Kalinski by the shirt collar and the seat of the trousers, and,without any apparent effort, tossed the man out of the pit. Thespectators gazed at the young man in amazement. His great strength was amarvel to them.

  "Oh, why didn't you let him toast some more?" grumbled Bob. "He hasn'thad enough yet. I tell you, he's only half baked."

  "Take your shovel and get in here. We shall be in trouble the firstthing we know," warned Rush.

  Bob obeyed reluctantly. He limped a little as he walked toward thecinder pit, for his legs pained him and there were blisters on his feetwhere the hot cinders and slag had burned through the shoes. Besides, hefelt that he had not done his duty.

  "Did you hear Watski give you the lie, Steve?"

  "Yes, I heard," answered Rush, beginning to throw out cinders again. "Heisn't worth bothering with. Let him alone. We cannot afford to have anyfights at the beginning. I was in hopes things would run alongsmoothly."

  Foley leaned over the edge of the pit.

  "I'll report you both; I'll have you fined!" he growled.

  "Go on!" jeered Rush. "Report the other man. If you don't, I will."

  "Let me at him! Let me at him!" yelled Kalinski, starting for the pit."I'll rub his nose in the hot slag, I will! I'll show him he can't throwhot cinders in my face. Git out of my way!"