RAKED BY THE "PIG"
"Look!" shouted Mr. Phillips.
Far down below them the head of a man bobbed out of the water as the
cloud of steam drifted slowly away.
"What is it?"
"There's somebody in the river."
"It's Rush. Where is he?"
Mr. Keating was greatly excited. He ran here and there, hoping to get a
clearer view of the water.
"There, there!"
"Rush! Rush! Is that you?" he called with hands to mouth.
An arm was raised from the water and waved at them.
"It's he! He's safe, he's safe, Phillips!" cried the superintendent,
dancing about excitedly.
"Look out, Keating! What's the matter with you? You'll have us both in
the river, the first thing you know."
The two gray-haired men shook hands, patted each other on the shoulder
and laughed like schoolboys in the excess of their joy.
"Can you swim?" called the superintendent.
"Yes, I'll meet you on the other side," was the reply faintly borne to
their ears.
"Come on, Phillips." Mr. Keating started on a run for the other side of
the river, for which Rush was swimming steadily. The banks were high and
steep on the far side, but there was an excellent beach, so that the
Iron Boy had no difficulty in making a landing. He was obliged, however,
to go around for some distance before finding a place to climb to the
top.
Arriving finally, Steve found the superintendent and chief engineer
pacing up and down the bank waiting for him. They grasped the lad's
hands, each seeking to outdo the other in expressing their appreciation
of what he had done.
"But what is troubling us is to understand how you were carried down by
that pig and yet not killed?" questioned Mr. Keating.
"The pig did not carry me down."
"It didn't?"
"Certainly not. This is the only place the pig touched me."
Steve exhibited a rent in his lower trousers' leg on the right side, and
parting this showed them a burn right down the leg. The burn looked an
inch deep.
"Man alive, you must get to the hospital as quickly as you can!"
commanded the superintendent.
Illustration: "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 circumstances. 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 passed 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.
The officials talked rapidly for the next few minutes, as darkness was
fast settling down over the yards, and the flame from the furnaces
began to cast shadows here and there. Much of the conversation was so
technical that Steve could only surmise what the men were talking about.
At last they concluded their discussion and started away. Steve was left
at the exit from the yards, from where he proceeded on to his boarding
place.
"Well, Phillips, now that we have gone over this thing, what do you
think about it? Can it be made to work out as Rush believes it will?"
"Keating, it is the most practicable plan for the utilization of the
waste gas that has ever been suggested to me. I see no reason, now, why
we should not adopt it, nor why the company should not be saved
thousands of dollars a year through the change," was the emphatic
reply.