"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 that have 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 was being 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 a.s.sure 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?"