CHAPTER XVII

A HANG-OVER AND A FLAREBACK

"Take the monkey trick," ordered the head melter when Steve reported for duty at the usual hour.

This meant standing right in front of the furnace much of the time. It was also the duty of the monkey-man to prod the clay dam with the dolly when all was ready for a cast, as well as occasionally to prod through the sh.e.l.l of the furnace above the metal and just below the bustle pipes, in order to liberate the gases that had formed there.

If anything, it was a worse position than he had yet had. But Steve did not flinch. He was there to learn all there was to be learned, and he proposed to do so, whatever the cost to himself.

"I guess I can stand it if others do," he thought when the new detail was called off. These men were just getting ready to go to work, Steve had stripped off a good portion of his clothes and donned a light rubber coat when Jarvis, who had not yet gone to the charging platform, touched him on the arm.

"What is it?"

"S-h-h! Look out for yourself!" whispered Jarvis.

"I'm going to."

"When you get a chance, without attracting attention, just look behind you and see who's here."

Rush nodded understandingly and went on with his preparations for the night's work, while Bob started for the "roof," as he called it. When an opportunity presented itself so that he could do so naturally, Steve turned.

He gave a slight start. He found himself looking into the face of his former pit boss, Watski Kalinski. The latter did not appear to have observed Steve; at least, he kept his eyes averted until the lad decided that the fellow was ashamed to look at him.

"I wonder what he is doing here?" muttered Rush.

When he got an opportunity Steve asked the head melter about it, and was informed that Kalinski was taking the place of a man who had been struck by the metal train on his way to work that afternoon. Kalinski was an old furnace man.

Steve nodded his understanding, but still he resolved to keep an eye on Kalinski. He did not trust the man, knowing well his revengeful nature.

"Next thing I know they will have Foley over here, and then it will be time to carry a club in my boot, for there'll be something doing at blast number four."

Nothing did occur, however. The gang made the first cast with success.

Steve still suffered from the heat, but not to the same extent. He was learning how to favor himself and to save himself, a most necessary part of the furnace man's work. Kalinski was doing general work about the furnace, but the Iron Boy did not relax his vigilance. As the evening wore on he was convinced, from certain sinister glances in his direction, that the former pit boss was contemplating mischief. It might not come that night, but it was sure to come sooner or later, and the boy did not propose to be caught napping if he could help himself. He had no idea, however, that he would be taken so by surprise as he really was.

Midnight arrived. Steve stood bravely at his place in front of the furnace. It was heated through and through, and the metal was running well. Not a failure or a mishap had occurred to mar the serenity of the head melter's temper, and his face wore a smile when it was safe to smile without running the risk of cracking the smile from the heat of the furnace. During a lull in the work Steve was asking questions about the operation of the blast furnace. He learned from the head melter that two tons of ore, as it came from the mines, smelted down to one ton of pig; that unless the ingredients were exactly right and the boiling done just right, thousands of tons might be spoiled in casting.

"You have to go by instinct largely," said Pig-Iron Peel. "You can't lay down any hard and fast rule. The only way is to taste of the metal and then you know when it's done to a turn."

"Taste of it?" exclaimed Steve. "Excuse me. I have come as near to it as I want to. I'm not a metal-taster."

Peel laughed.

"I don't mean to drink the stuff down, but tasting with your ears, eyes and nose; hearing, seeing and smelling--understand?"

"Yes; I catch your meaning."

"When you get to that point you may consider yourself a furnace man. But it is dangerous business. A man never knows when he's going to get his, and be dragged out in the wagon. We don't think of it, though. A fellow gets used to all sorts of dangers, and goodness knows these mills are full of them. When a fellow gets hurt, however, it's most likely his own fault. The company does all it can to protect its men."

"So I have observed. Some of its men are more dangerous than the perils of the mills themselves," answered Steve with a laugh.

"I reckon you are right at that. You're learning the whole business, ain't you?"

"I am trying to."

"Then you've bit off a full mouthful. Going to the open hearths from here?"

"I do not know; I am going wherever I am put."

"That's the usual way they promote from here, and so on into the mills themselves. Where'd you begin?"

Rush told him, relating his experiences in the pit, but mentioning no names. Pig-Iron Peel's face grew black with righteous indignation as he listened to the recital.

"Who was the fiend?" he demanded.

"I am not going to tell you."

"He ought to be whaled with a red hot angle bar, until there wasn't a piece of skin left on him as big as a bolt-head. I'd like to get the duffer in my hands just once--only once--that would be enough for a starter from me. The pup!"

Peel had raised his voice to a high pitch. Steve glanced over toward Watski Kalinski. The latter was regarding Peel and Rush angrily. It was quite evident that either he had caught the drift of the conversation by hearing some of the words, or else he suspected the truth from their actions.

"I wish you'd tell me who it was, Rush."

"No, I could not think of doing that. He has been pretty well punished already, and he is likely to get worse if he tries any more of his tricks. Jarvis gave him an awful whaling, you know."

Rush raised his voice so that Kalinski could not help hearing every word this time.

"He did, eh?"

"Yes."

"Is Jarvis much of a sc.r.a.pper?"

"He is a whirlwind."

"Good for him! I'll get him off the charging platform and give him something better down here," said the head melter, as he nodded approvingly over what Steve had told him.

"That's the kind of a boy for me. No, I don't mean because he fights. I got no use for a brawler, but because he can be a man when he gets up against the real thing. Tell me about that mix-up."

This Steve did, including the kicking of Brodsky, which really led to the interference of Jarvis. Peel stamped about on the fire brick of the platform, his anger growing momentarily.

"The whelp! The miserable cur! He'd better not show his face around these furnaces. I'll break every bone in his miserable no-account body.

Tell me who he is! Tell me who he is!"

"Not now. Perhaps some other time. The man might not like to hear it, you know."

Peel regarded his young charge suspiciously.