CHAPTER XIX

FACING A GREAT PERIL

Bob Jarvis was after him with a bound.

The lads had seen a little tongue of flame creeping up the sides of the bag on the back of the Italian.

Mr. Penton saw it also, as did the president of the company. The two men understood the situation as fully as did the lads themselves, but the others of the company were laughing and chatting, unmindful of the dire peril that was threatening them. Mr. Carrhart and Mr. Penton half rose from their seats, their faces blanching noticeably.

Steve by this time had reached the Italian burden-bearer. Stretching forth his hands, he grasped the bag, giving it a powerful tug. The Italian toppled over backwards, the loop slipping over his head, leaving the sack and its contents in the hands of Steve Rush.

In the meantime the attention of the visitors had been attracted. They discovered all at once that something unusual was taking place.

"Hello, what's this--a fight?" cried Mr. Cary.

Those who knew did not answer. They stood with pale faces, wide-eyed, watching the efforts of the Iron Boys.

No sooner had Steve gotten possession of the bag than the Italian leaped to his feet. With an angry imprecation, he sprang at Steve, knife in hand.

But Jarvis was watching him. The boy made a leap, landing a powerful blow with his fist on the back of the Italian's head. The man collapsed in a heap. Bob was down on his knees beside his companion in an instant. Steve had thrown the burning bag into the gutter extending along the track, where there trickled a little stream of water that had been turned a dull red by the iron ore. There was little water there, but Rush was scooping up what there was of the water and mud, and with it patting out the fire in the sack.

Bob began doing the same, but now little flames were starting up all over the bag.

"Beat it out with your hands!" cried Steve. "It's getting the best of us. If it reaches the fuses, we're done for!"

"Skip, Steve; let me do it."

Rush did not answer. He was beating a tattoo on the bag, now and then grabbing up a handful of mud and water to soothe the hands which were already quite badly burned.

"It's out," announced Bob at last.

The Iron Boys' prompt action had prevented the fuses from igniting. All this had occupied but a few seconds. Instinctively the visitors realized that something was wrong, but they did not understand what that something was.

Steve rolled the bag over two or three times, soaking it as well as he could with the little water at hand. He then opened the mouth of the sack, emptying the contents into the gutter and soaking that with water. This done, he threw the sack away and straightened up, his face flushed from his exertions.

The Italian was just getting to his feet unsteadily, but there was an angry light in his eyes.

Steve pointed to the sack.

"How did that happen?" demanded the lad.

"Me not know," was the answer, with a shrug of the shoulders. "Why you hit me?"

"Why did I hit you?" repeated Bob. "If I hadn't you'd been sailing skyward by this time."

The Italian started away, muttering sullenly. Steve stepped forward, laying a restraining hand on the man's arm.

"Wait a minute. I want to talk with you."

Mr. Carrhart sat down on the bench rather heavily, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

"Now, Carrhart, perhaps you will tell us the meaning of this remarkable scene," said Mr. Cary. "Something is up. I have a suspicion."

"Yes, you are right; something is up--or _was_. Do you gentlemen know what was in that bag that you saw on fire just now?"

"No."

"It was dynamite," said the president in an impressive tone.

"Dynamite!" exclaimed the visitors in one voice.

"Yes. How much was there in the bag, Mr. Penton?" asked Mr. Carrhart.

"I should judge there were a dozen charges; about fifty pounds, I should say."

The blanched faces of the visitors evidenced their understanding.

"Enough to blow us into kingdom come," added the superintendent.

"Then--then those boys have saved our lives?"

"They have," said Mr. Penton.

"Yes, and that act of theirs is sufficient to earn for them the Medal of Honor. I never knew of a braver act," added the president. "Rush, come here! Jarvis, I want you, too."

The boys obeyed the command, Steve leading the unwilling Italian around the chutes to the platform, where he stood him against the wall.

"You stay there until you are wanted!" ordered the boy, at which Mr. Penton nodded his approval.

The visitors crowded forward, expressing their admiration at the bravery of the Iron Boys, at the same time plying them with eager questions.

"How did you ever have the courage to do it?" questioned one man.

"Because I didn't want to be blown up," answered Steve simply, at which the tension was relieved and everyone laughed.

"What I should like to know," exclaimed Mr. Carrhart, "is how this affair occurred--how did that bag of dynamite chance to catch fire?"

"From the Italian's candle, of course," said Mr. Cary. "I always have considered those open lights dangerous, especially where high explosives are used. We should have enclosed lights, the same as they do in the coal mines."

"What do you think about it, Rush?" asked the president, turning to the young man inquiringly.

"It did not catch from the man's candle, sir," answered the lad confidently.

"You think not?"

"I am sure of it, sir."

"What makes you think it did not?"

"Because the candle was on the front of his cap. It is there now, as you can see for yourself. The fire, when I first saw it, was burning at the bottom of the bag on the man's back. I do not see, by any stretch of the imagination, how the candle could have fired the cloth."

"You're right."

"Mr. Penton, would you like to question the man?" asked Steve, nodding toward the Italian.

"Yes. Come here, Dominick."

The Italian obeyed with sullenness.

"How did this thing happen, Dominick?"

"Me not know."

"You did not have your candle in your hand at any time, did you?"

"Me have candle in hat."

"Was it there when you picked up the bag?"

"Yes."

"You are sure of that?"

"Me sure."

"May I ask a question?" inquired Steve.

"Certainly."

"Did you pass or meet anyone just before you reached the chutes here?"

"Me not meet any one."

"I don't understand this at all," said Mr. Penton. "Dominick is trustworthy, so far as I am aware. At least no charges ever have been made against him."

"He seemed to me to be pretty handy with his knife," suggested the president. "I shouldn't want to trust a man very far who acted that way, would you, Rush?"

"Well, no, sir; but I shouldn't accuse him of setting fire to a bag of dynamite, then calmly shouldering the bag and marching off. At least, not unless he was determined to commit suicide."

There was a hearty laugh, this time at the expense of the president.

"There's good logic in that, at any rate," agreed Mr. Carrhart.

Steve was studying the face of the Italian keenly. This Mr. Carrhart observed and nodded significantly to Superintendent Penton. But Steve could not make up his mind that Dominick was in any way to blame for what had barely missed being a great disaster.

Both lads were puzzled. They could not understand it at all.

"Perhaps a spark dropped from the trolley wire, thus firing the bag," suggested the superintendent, after briefly turning the question over in his mind.

"That is a plausible explanation," said Mr. Carrhart, "and for want of a better one we shall have to let it go at that. Yes, I think that must be the explanation."

The party decided that they had seen enough of the Cousin Jack for one day. Some of the officials were more anxious to get out of the place than they cared to admit. They were not used to having their luncheons interrupted by fifty-pound sacks of dynamite catching fire.

Each, before leaving, stepped up and shook hands with the Iron Boys.

"I want to see you before I leave the range," said Mr. Carrhart as he bade Steve good-bye.

"Yes, sir," answered the boy, touching his hat, as he stepped to one side to permit the visitors to pass around the chute.

"We must do something for those boys," said Mr. Cary to the president.

"Yes," agreed Mr. Carrhart.

"They are doing something for themselves, gentlemen," returned the superintendent. "They are not lads to need much help. They are the kind who carve out their own futures."

* * * * *

"Well, they've gone," announced Bob, stamping the dirt from his shoes. "What do you think of it?"

"Of the fire--the burning bag, you mean?"

"Yes."

"I think it was a mighty queer occurrence."

"So do I," agreed Jarvis, "and it's my opinion that it will bear looking into."

"Where's Dominick?"

"He sneaked away when the others left. But he is of no use to us. He knows nothing about this affair, beyond what we all saw. We must look beyond him for the cause of the fire. Well, I'm off."

The lads separated for the time being and went off about their duties. But the thought of the fired bag kept recurring to Steve Rush. He turned the matter over and over in his mind, yet without being able to reach any definite conclusion regarding it.

"I wish I knew," he mused. "It is not my business, however, to inquire into the affair unless I have orders to do so."

He was to receive his orders sooner than he imagined, and his investigations were eventually to develop some startling facts concerning conditions in the Cousin Jack Mine.