"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 striding toward 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 hung motionless 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?" demanded Mr. Phillips angrily. "Who pushed me? Who pushed _us_?"

"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.

CHAPTER XXI

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.