CHAPTER XX

THE CHIEF EXPRESSES HIMSELF

"Phillips, this is young Rush, Steve Rush."

The chief engineer nodded, shooting a quick glance at the Iron Boy, after which he fixed his eyes on the face of the superintendent.

"Rush and a friend of his, named Jarvis, have come down from the mines. They are learning the business with the intention of making it their life work. Is that not it, Rush?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Carrhart has recommended them very highly, and I am beginning to learn that his recommendation was well within the facts. These boys have heads on them, Phillips. You are wondering what I am getting at, I see. Rush is working on the blast furnaces. Let's see, what are you doing there?" asked Mr. Keating, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I am the monkey-man on number four, sir, where there was a blow-out last night."

An amused smile flitted over the face of Mr. Phillips at the announcement. He was not taking the interview very seriously, as Steve quickly observed.

"The young man has had other blow-outs, but he bears a charmed life, I am inclined to think. Let's see, you were blown to the roof in the pit explosion in the open-hearth building, were you not!"

"No, sir; that was Bob Jarvis."

"Oh, yes; you were the man who was in the other pit. I remember now."

Steve nodded. He did not particularly like the personal trend of the conversation. It embarrassed him. He wanted to change the subject, but he knew Mr. Keating well enough to understand that the general superintendent must first indulge in his little pleasantries before getting down to business.

"And what is more, Phillips, they are both stockholders in the company. What do you think of that for a couple of youngsters working for a dollar a day?" demanded Steve's torturer triumphantly.

The chief engineer smiled more broadly now.

"Very remarkable, Mr. Keating. Regular infant prodigies." He was wondering, by this time, what the superintendent was getting at, knowing that there was some purpose behind Mr. Keating's good-natured raillery.

"Did you wish me to make a place for them?"

"I am afraid they would not accept if you did."

"Oh!"

"Rush has an idea that he can save us some money. He has told me what his suggestion is, and now I want him to repeat it to you. Go ahead, Steve, and tell Mr. Phillips what you have said to me."

This was different. It had been comparatively easy for the boy to tell his story in the first place, because it was backed by his enthusiasm. That enthusiasm had in a measure been squeezed out of him by Mr. Keating's jesting remarks. Steve plucked up courage, gazing straight at the now cold, inquiring eyes of the chief engineer.

"My suggestion is for the utilization of the waste gases from the stoves at the blast furnaces across the river," announced the boy.

"Indeed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let me hear your ideas on the subject."

Rush began at first haltingly, then warming to his subject as he went on, repeating very nearly in the same words, what he already had told the superintendent. As he progressed real interest began to dawn in the eyes of the chief engineer. Now and then he would halt the boy to ask a question, but the interruptions were of such a nature as not to disturb Steve. At last the Iron Boy came to a conclusion.

"Beyond that, sir, I cannot go just now, not having the requisite technical knowledge. All that I have suggested may not amount to much," he added with a smile.

"It will do very well for an apprentice," nodded the engineer, with a significant glance at Mr. Keating. "What do you think about it?"

"Very remarkable."

"You say you would convey this waste gas to the gas engines?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Yes, sir; on this side of the river."

"How would you get it over here?"

"Through pipes, of course. The gas would lose none of its virtue in transit. It is carried much further than that to the mills already. It strikes me that gas from other parts of the yards might be conveyed to the leader pipe in the same way, and thus give you enough gas to run your engines without having to draw further on the city supply."

"How would you carry these pipes across the river--under water?" asked the engineer.

"No, sir; the pipes would rust through, would they not, and give you a lot of trouble?"

Mr. Phillips nodded.

"Your idea is correct."

"I should elevate them over the river."

"If there are any other intricate problems that you are unable to work out, Phillips, just call on my boys," laughed Mr. Keating.

"Yes; I am inclined to that belief myself. Have you an hour that you can spare, Mr. Keating?"

"Certainly. There is nothing more to be done here this afternoon."

"How about you, Rush?"

"I have to report for duty within the hour."

"What is it you want, Phillips?"

"I was about to suggest that Rush accompany us over to the furnaces, but if he has to report for the night trick there will not be time."

"We will attend to that part of it. You will want to return home, of course, to change your clothes before going to work?"

"Yes, sir," Steve nodded.

The superintendent pushed a button and one of his clerks responded.

"Send word to the head melter of number four blast that Mr. Rush will not be on duty this evening, on the superintendent's order; that the young man is engaged on another matter for me," directed Mr. Keating.

Steve's eyes glowed, not because he did not have to work, but because there seemed reason to believe that the plan he had so carefully thought out was going to be seriously considered both by the superintendent and the chief engineer of the great steel works.

"That disposes of all your objections, doesn't it, Rush?" asked Mr. Keating.

"It disposes of the obstacles. I had no objections," smiled the Iron Boy.

"I stand corrected, sir," said Mr. Keating. "We will start if you are ready, Phillips."

"As soon as I get my hat. I will join you on the outside."

A few moments later they were walking briskly along toward the yards, Mr. Keating and the engineer together, Steve a little in advance of them.

"What do you think of my young man?" asked Mr. Keating.

"Rush? He is a very bright young fellow. You say he came down from the iron range?"

"Yes, he and his friend Jarvis, I am told, were forging rapidly toward the front there. They shipped on an ore boat to learn that part of the business and then came down here to enter the mills. From a salary of more than a hundred dollars a month the boys are now receiving the munificent wage of a dollar a day. You do not need to know anything more than that about them, do you?"

"No; that should be sufficient to establish their sincerity of purpose."

"I should say so," emphasized the superintendent. "What do you think of Rush's proposal?"

"I can answer that question better after I have looked over the ground and figured on the proposal a little."

"It is a wonder we never thought of it before."

"It is. Still, many important discoveries have been made by persons unfamiliar with the subject, as against the experiments of years by men trained to that particular profession."

"See here, Phillips, don't you try to throw cold water on the achievements of my boys. I won't have it."

"Not at all, not at all. When I am convinced that the boy has suggested a good thing I shall be just as enthusiastic as you are over it."

"You professional men are a cold-blooded lot, aren't you?"

"Do you wish to cross the metal bridge, or to go around the long way?" interrupted Steve halting to permit them to catch up with him.

"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.