SOMETHING HAPPENS TO THE BOSS
The next day was a repetition of the previous one so far as Steve's
finding a position was concerned. At every place he was met by one of
two answers. Either they were not in need of any extra men, or else they
wished a letter from the corporation mills, giving the facts of the
discharge of the Iron Boys.
Rush was beginning to think hard. He had discovered that getting on in
the world was not all smooth sailing; still he was not disheartened.
In the meantime Ignatz Brodsky had not been idle. He had gone to his
work and had stood the abuse of Foley, and occasionally that of
Kalinski, though not in the latter's department, without making any
retorts. Ignatz's face was stolid and emotionless.
That evening, however, having recovered from the kick he had received,
he went out first in search of Superintendent Keating. The general
superintendent, he learned, was in New York, and might return the next
day or he might not.
Disappointed, but still stolid, Ignatz betook himself over much the
same route that he had followed the night before. He did not meet
Kalinski, however, and after a while went home to supper. Shortly after
finishing his meal he left the house. The widow Brodsky thought he was
going over to see the Iron Boys. Ignatz had no such intention. He kept
walking up and down the streets, keeping a sharp lookout. At last his
search was rewarded. He espied Kalinski standing on a street corner,
talking with another man.
The Polish boy smiled again and started slowly toward Kalinski. But this
time Kalinski saw him coming. The brow of the pit boss wrinkled, though
he did not for a moment think the boy would dare come near him after the
experiences of the previous night.
Ignatz kept on coming, just the same, though he was not looking at the
boss; rather were his glances fixed reflectively on the pavement. The
boy came to a halt right in front of Kalinski and looked up with an
innocent expression on his face.
"Well, what do you want? Looking for more trouble? Git out of this
before I lose my temper and do something to you."
"All liars!" announced Ignatz, with the same calmness as before.
"What!" fairly howled the boss. "You little yaller dog, I'll beat the
daylight out of you. What do you want here?"
"This!" answered the Polish boy, smiting the boss a terrific blow on the
nose. It was the same nose and the same spot on the nose that had felt
the fist of Ignatz once before.
Kalinski staggered back under the force of the blow, howling with rage
and pain. Ere Brodsky could follow up the advantage thus gained the boss
was upon him.
No one interfered, for Kalinski was a bad man when enraged and
bystanders knew he would brook no interference. When finally he backed
away Ignatz's face was a sorry sight. The pit boss had given the boy a
brutal beating.
"All, all liars!" he gasped, then turned and staggered off toward home.
But not a word could the widow Brodsky obtain from him as to the cause
of the disfigurement. Next day Ignatz was not seen at the mill. He
remained at home, moulding his face back into the semblance of its
former self.
Steve was late that night, as before, but he had fared a little better.
He had found a job in a mill for himself and Bob. It was not much of a
job--merely carrying water for the men in the tube mill at fifty cents a
day.
The Iron Boy did not agree to accept the proffered employment, but said
that in case he found nothing better he would report for duty on the
following Monday morning if this would be satisfactory. It was, and so
the matter was left.
Jarvis was out on the street again. The bandages were off his hands, but
he still wore one over the upper part of his face. The lad had gone out,
hoping to meet Steve and walk home with him. All at once Jarvis
discovered Brodsky walking ahead of him. As usual the Pole was looking
about him keenly.
"He is hunting for some one," muttered Bob. "I think I will see what the
little rascal is up to. I'll bet he's up to some mischief."
Ignatz led Jarvis quite a chase, and it was nearly nine o'clock when the
Pole halted. Kalinski was just coming out of the post-office. The boss
stopped short when he saw Brodsky, and Brodsky stopped short as he
caught sight of the pit boss.
"Hello! I begin to smell a rat," chuckled Bob. "I wonder what he and the
boss can have in common?"
Jarvis edged up a little closer. Brodsky and the pit boss were slowly
approaching each other. Bob was almost trembling with excitement. The
very air vibrated with trouble.
"I actually believe that little runt is going to pick a fight with the
big fellow. Well, of all the nerve I ever heard of! Why, Kalinski will
eat him alive."
Bob waited to see what would happen.
"All liars!" howled Brodsky, both feet leaving the ground as he leaped
straight at the boss. Kalinski's fist grazed the Polish boy's cheek, and
the lad, with a quickness that would not have been thought of him,
planted his own fist in the face of Kalinski.
There followed a quick exchange of blows, Brodsky fighting in close with
dogged determination. Every time he landed a blow the boy would shout,
"All liars!"
This seemed to enrage Kalinski more than anything else, and led him to
renewed efforts to down his antagonist. It could end but one way. Bob
Jarvis saw that as he stood clenching and unclenching his hands,
muttering to himself: "It's a fair fight; you can't interfere. It's a
fair fight; you can't interfere!"
The Iron Boy was doing his best to keep out of it, but he wished from
the bottom of his heart that Kalinski would turn on him, thus giving Bob
an excuse to even up old scores.
A big crowd had gathered and was urging on the combatants, jeering,
shouting in a chorus of discordant yells. Suddenly Ignatz Brodsky
toppled over backwards, his arms waving feebly as he fell. He struck
the ground heavily and lay there moaning.
With a shout of triumphant rage Kalinski sprang forward and began
kicking the prostrate boy with his heavy boots. The pit boss was beside
himself with rage, for Brodsky had goaded him to the point of
desperation. The crowd apparently had no inclination to interfere with
this brutal act, for they continued their shouting and jeering.
There was one, however, who did propose to interfere. Such a scene was
more than Bob Jarvis could witness without taking a hand.
With a roar he hurled himself into the centre of the circle that had
been formed about the combatants. A firm hand was laid on the arm of the
boss, and ere he knew what was occurring he was thrown flat on his face
in the dirty street.
The crowd was not exactly sure whether it approved of this or not, and,
deciding that it did not, began to hiss.
"He's a coward!" shouted Bob. "He, a full-grown man, to thrash a boy,
then kick him after he is down! I am surprised that you loafers could
stand here and see it done without offering to interfere."
"Look out! He's coming for you!" warned a friendly voice.
But Jarvis did not need the warning. He had been watching the boss
narrowly while scoring the crowd, and he was ready for the next move. As
a matter of fact Bob did not believe Kalinski would fight him. In this
he was wrong, for the Pole's rage blinded his better judgment. His
brutal instincts were in full control. Kalinski was on his feet almost
instantly, and with a yell of rage he rushed the Iron Boy.
Jarvis stepped nimbly to one side, tripped the man and once more threw
him on his face.
The crowd jeered. This wasn't fighting. They wanted to see blood flow.
Their desires were soon gratified, for no sooner had Kalinski jumped to
his feet again, and made a vicious swing at Jarvis, than the boss
received a stinging blow on his sore nose from Bob's right, and another
on his right eye from Bob's left fist.
After that it was give-and-take. Neither man gave ground in the
slightest, but it was plain that, while possessed of great muscular
force, the Pole lacked the science of the Iron Boy. When the former did
land it jarred Bob Jarvis from head to feet, sometimes sending him
staggering backward, gasping for breath.
But Jarvis was full of pluck. Brodsky, at this juncture, got unsteadily
to his feet and elbowed his way into the circle about the combatants.
"All liars!" he cried, whereat the crowd picked him up bodily and threw
him out over the heads of those at the rear.
By this time Kalinski was getting slower in his movements, and the
strong fists of the Iron Boy were beating a tattoo on the pit boss's
face and ribs. The crowd, seeing that Kalinski was getting the worst of
it, set up yells of disapproval.
"Throw him out! Put him in the river!"
With one common purpose the idlers surged forward. At that moment some
one began pushing and elbowing through the crowd. Then Steve Rush strode
into the ring where the man and the boy were battling for a finish.
Steve had been on his way home from his day's tramp in search of a
position when the shouts of the crowd attracted his attention. He
hurried on to learn what was going on. His surprise was great when he
saw the bandaged head of Bob Jarvis bobbing up and down in the centre of
the ring.
"Bob's at it again!" groaned Steve. "Will he ever learn to keep out of
trouble?"
Steve quickly noted the sinister attitude of the crowd. He knew that in
a moment they would fall upon Jarvis, and it was a foregone conclusion
that the lad would be roughly handled. Perhaps both boys would be
roughly treated, but this did not deter Rush from springing to the
rescue of his companion.
"Stand back!" Steve shouted, as he leaped into the narrowing space about
the fighters. "Stand back, every one of you. It's a fair fight. Let them
have it out. I don't know what it is all about, but I know nobody is
going to interfere unless he wants to fight me!"
"Throw him out!" howled a voice. The cry was quickly taken up by other
voices. Steve Rush was now the object of their disapproval.
"Men, I tell you to stand back! It will be the worse for you if you
don't."
Uttering a yell the idlers rushed the plucky Steve.