Ill.u.s.tration: "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 such as 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 circ.u.mstances. 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," answered Steve 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 pa.s.sed 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, which they 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.