CHAPTER VII

THE IRON BOYS WIN

"NOW we will put out the fire," announced Steve Rush calmly, as he got to his feet and began whipping out the smouldering sparks on the scant covering that he had left on his body.

"The powder house has blown up and the mine is caving in!" cried a miner, dashing in front of them through a cross-cut. A dozen others were following him, yelling wildly.

"There go my firemen. Stop them, Bob!"

Rush sprang out into the cross-cut waving his arms.

"Stop! You are all right if you will keep your heads."

"The magazine's gone up!"

"The magazine has not gone up. Get back to your stations. How is the fire?"

"We were getting the best of it on our level when the powder house went----"

"Nonsense! I tell you it's all right, but unless you do keep the fire from spreading into the other side of the mine you'll go up in smoke, the whole crowd of you. Now get back to work."

Some of the men turned to retrace their steps.

"He's lying to you," shouted one of those who had not turned. "Come with me, and I'll show you the way out. The kid's gone crazy."

"Back, I tell you! Every man of you!" shouted Steve, placing himself squarely in front of the man who had started to run.

The fellow did not stop. He started to run right over Rush, when, quick as a flash, Steve's clenched fist landed on the miner's jaw, sending the man down in a heap. In the meantime Bob Jarvis, with a howl, had jumped into the fray. He knocked down two men who sought to force their way past him.

"Come on, you cowards! You'll find my fist is harder to get away from than the fire in the lagging. I'll pound every one of you if you don't get back to your stations."

Others had come running along the cross-cut after the explosion, until there were fully thirty men in the party.

Facing them stood the two Iron Boys, naked to the waist, Steve's body streaked with soot and blood. The miners stood hesitating. Somehow the courage of the two lads shamed the men. They wavered between their shame and their fears.

"Go back and do your duty like men," commanded Steve Rush in a firm tone. "Now that you are in condition to listen, I will tell you that the powder house has not blown up. There is now little chance that it will."

"But we heard it go up," protested a voice.

"No, you did not. The powder house, in all probability, is buried under tons of rock. I planted the drift with sticks of dynamite. When the fire reached them the explosion of the dynamite caved in the drift, thus shutting off the magazine and burying it. Your danger is from fire alone. Go back to work."

For a moment the rough men gazed at the slender, resolute lad standing before them; then the miners, with one accord, uttered a yell. Before the lads could dodge out of the way the miners had grabbed the Iron Boys, and, uttering choking hurrahs, bore the lads back through the level on a run.

These same men were ready to fight anything now. Their courage had come back to them, increased tenfold. They had realized in a moment what desperate bravery had been Steve's.

From that moment on the men fought desperately against the flames. Little by little, now that systematic efforts were being put forth, the fire died out. The mine was still filled with suffocating smoke, however, and men were being overcome on every hand.

From the surface a band of rescuers had begun to make their way down the ladders into the mine, headed by the superintendent himself. Each was provided with head-wrappings, damp cloths being placed over mouths and noses.

The instant the rescuers reached the first level, Mr. Penton hurried them off to the west, in order to get them as far away from the magazines as possible. He expected to hear the muffled report of the exploding magazine at any moment, and to feel the ground tremble and settle beneath his feet.

Reaching a point far enough to the west to place them out of immediate danger, should there be an explosion, the party took to the ladders again and began their descent into the heart of the conflagration.

In the meantime Steve Rush had worked out another plan. He had visited the most dangerous places in the mine, learning where the main artery of fire was. This done, the lad sent out men to hunt up sticks of dynamite in some of the working drifts. A few sticks were thus secured. With these Steve blew down the roofs of the levels in several places, thus absolutely checking the fire at these points.

This done, the men had little difficulty in handling the other levels. Mr. Penton, during his slow, dangerous descent, caught the faint boom of the dynamite sticks. He knew that it was not the magazine and concluded that the distant reports he had heard were caused by the explosion of stray sticks of dynamite that the fire had reached.

At last the party reached the fifteenth level, where the fire-fighting operations were going steadily forward. No one gave the slightest heed to the superintendent and his party. The miners were too busy fighting fire, and they were working with an enthusiasm and force that amazed Mr. Penton.

He hailed a drift foreman.

"Bates, what is the condition down here? I wish to know the details. You can save me time by telling me."

"I think we have the fire under control, sir."

"Is the mine badly damaged?"

"I fear it is."

"How many levels have been burned?"

"There has been fire on all of them below this, and, as you probably know, above here, too. I think Steve Rush and Bob Jarvis can give you more information than can I."

"Where are they?"

"I don't know. They're everywhere at once. I never saw anything like those two young fellows. You can give them the credit for saving your mine."

"But the magazines--is there fire near them?" asked the superintendent hurriedly.

"There was."

"Who put it out?"

"Rush and Jarvis did--that is, they got into the powder house, carried out dynamite and blew up the drift ahead of the fire, so it could not reach the explosives."

The blood rushed to the face of the superintendent in a sudden wave of emotion.

"Have any lives been lost?"

"I fear so. We have been too busy to find out. We knew there was nothing that could be done; in fact, there was no possibility of our getting into the other side of the works. If we could get there the men could get here. I believe, however, that Rush and Jarvis have pulled out twenty or thirty men who had been overcome."

"Wonderful!" breathed Mr. Penton. "Come, men; we must go through the mine and make a quick investigation. Bates, have you stationed men through the various levels to watch?"

"I believe Rush has attended to that. In fact, he did that some time ago. He took matters into his own hands, and we were very willing to have him do so, for the men were crazed with fear."

Just then a man rushed into the level where Mr. Penton and the foreman were standing. This man was bare to the waist, his skin so blackened with smoke as to render him almost unrecognizable.

"Who is that?" demanded the superintendent sharply.

"That's Rush."

Steve had not observed Mr. Penton.

"I want ten volunteers to go with me to the other side of the mine. It will be hot in there, but we've got to look after the men in that section. Some of them, no doubt, are imprisoned in drifts that have caved in, and----"

"Steve!"

Mr. Penton strode forward with outstretched hand.

"Steve, my boy, come here."

The Iron Boy sprang forward, grasped Mr. Penton's hand, then turned sharply to the men.

"Who will go with me?"

"I will," answered every man in the drift.

"Rush, you have done enough. I will head the rescue party. It is my place to do so," exclaimed the superintendent. "Where is Jarvis?"

"On the level below this. He is beating out the fire on the main and sub-levels. He has done splendid work, Mr. Penton."

"So I understand. Send for him, and both of you make your way to the surface, if you are able to do so."

"No, sir; we shall stay. We are foremen. It is our duty to remain in the mine as long as there is anything to do. Mr. Bates, with the superintendent's permission, will you relieve Mr. Jarvis and take charge of the work here and below as well?"

Mr. Penton nodded his permission.

"Yes," answered Bates.

Half a dozen men were chosen from that shift, Steve deciding to pick up others on the way to the fire-swept part of the mine. Mr. Penton headed the rescue party, which made its way as rapidly as possible to the other side.

It was a sad duty that the men found before them. The total loss was ten men. Fifty men in various parts of the mine had been buried in drifts and it was night before the last of them had been gotten out. While this was being done watchmen patroled the levels, Steve Rush having laid out the plans for this work. Now and then a fresh blaze would spring up here and there, but in each instance there were men on hand to fight it.

As soon as the last blaze had been extinguished the bull gang began rushing timber down into the mine, and the timber-men got to work, shoring up the weakened levels. All night long the work continued. Neither Steve nor Bob Jarvis would leave the mine. The Iron Boys seemed to be everywhere at once, especially at points where their services were needed. Mr. Penton found himself deferring to the judgment of the brave lads. There was still need for cool heads. He knew full well that he could depend upon the two boys under all conditions.

Morning came, though the lads did not know it until the day shift came down to work. The mine was still smoky, but it had cleared sufficiently to enable the men to work. No ore was to be taken out that day, all hands starting in to clean up the mine. The Iron Boys, after having been on duty for twenty-four hours, made their way to the surface, first having borrowed jackets to cover their backs. They went to their boarding house, and, after a bath, tumbled into bed, remaining there until late in the evening.