THE BOYS STAND THE TEST
"YOU want to get on board the 'Wanderer,' eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"What for?"
"I have told you we were to ship on her--we were to work on board."
"What were you to do on board?"
"We were to work at whatever we were set at."
"Hm-m-m!" mused the red-faced skipper. "Had your breakfast?"
"No, sir; we have not had anything to eat since we ate luncheon
yesterday noon."
"Hm-m-m-m. Come with me."
The captain led the way aft over the decks, along a walk at the side of
the hatches, which the lads observed were snugly battened down. Their
conductor passed on by the engine house, clear to the stern of the
vessel, where he entered the door of the deck-house.
"Jake!" he called sharply, poking his head into the room.
A white-capped, white-aproned man suddenly made his appearance.
"Vat iss?" demanded the ship's cook.
"Give these boys some breakfast."
Jake surveyed the boys critically before replying.
"_Ja_," he said, turning back into his kitchen.
"Sit down at the table. When you have finished eating come forward and I
will talk with you."
"Thank you. Where shall we find you, sir?" asked Rush.
"If I'm not in the wheel house I'll be somewhere else."
"I hope you won't take it into your head to meet us in the hold,"
interjected Jarvis. "We have had hold enough to hold us for the rest of
our lives."
"Don't get smart, young man," snapped the master, turning and leaving
the room.
"I wouldn't get funny with the captain, were I in your place," warned
Steve. "He evidently doesn't appreciate your jokes. Smell that
breakfast?"
"You bet I do, but smelling won't help much."
Jake soon brought in a satisfying meal, to which the boys helped
themselves liberally. The cook stood about watching them questioningly
for a time, but, as the boys seemed too busy to open a conversation with
him, he turned back to his galley with a deep grunt of disapproval.
After having finished their meal the Iron Boys went out on deck, where
for a time they stood leaning over the rail looking down into the
foaming water slipping past the side of the ship.
"We had better be going forward, Bob," suggested Steve.
On the way forward they passed several deck hands at work. Some were
sweeping, others washing down the decks with a hose and a scrub brush.
"That's going to be our job, I guess," grinned Bob.
"Then, it's me for the mines, Steve Rush!"
Inquiring for the captain, they were told that he was in his cabin just
under the pilot-house. They hurried there, and, knocking, were told to
enter. The captain's quarters they found, to their surprise, to be
luxurious. There was an observation room extending across the ship, with
eight windows in front, looking out on the sea ahead of the ship. Off
from this observation room and to the rear of it were two handsome
bedrooms, furnished with brass bedsteads and hung with silk draperies.
Bob looked around for a mat on which to wipe his feet.
The captain, seated at a desk, turned around in his chair, surveying the
boys critically.
"You certainly are not very handsome to look at," was his comment,
uttered in a gruff tone.
"No, sir, not very," admitted Steve, flushing as he looked down at his
soiled clothes.
"Do we have to dress up on this ship?" demanded Jarvis, with some heat.
"You will have to do one thing--preserve a respectful attitude toward
the commanding officer, and take orders without giving any back talk,"
replied the master, eyeing the boy sternly.
"We aren't working on this ship."
"Perhaps you think you are not, but you are."
"We are working, or going to work, on the 'Wanderer,'" answered Bob.
"That is what I am saying. This is the 'Wanderer.'"
"The 'Wanderer'?" exclaimed the lads.
"Yes."
"Then we did fall into luck, after all."
"It looks that way, though you may change your minds before you've been
aboard long. Which of you is which?"
"I am Steve Rush. This is Bob Jarvis."
"Glad to meet you, young gentlemen."
They could not tell if the captain intended the words to be sarcastic,
or whether he meant to be polite to them. They were rather inclined to
the former opinion.
"When do we go to work?" demanded Jarvis.
"Now; at once. We don't have any lazybones on board this ship. Are you
men strong?"
"Yes, sir; I think so," replied Steve, smiling.
"Can you shovel coal?"
"We can shovel anything that we are able to lift."
"Very well, then; I'll put you in the stoke hole."
"What kind of a hole is that?" questioned Jarvis.
"That is the place where the black-faced gang shovel the fuel under the
boilers to make the ship move along."
"Oh, you mean the firemen?"
"That's the scientific name. The common name is stoker. I'll send you
down to the chief engineer, and he will give you a trick. You'll have to
work like sixty, and if you don't you'll get off at the Soo and foot it
back home," continued the skipper gruffly.
If Steve were disappointed, or objected to the work that had been
assigned to them, he made no comment. Jarvis, however, made no secret of
his displeasure. He grumbled under his breath, despite the warning looks
directed at him by Steve Rush.
Captain Simms pushed a button, and a few minutes later a short man,
clean shaven, red of face like the captain, entered.
"This is Mr. Major, the first mate. He is next in rank to the master. He
will take you to the chief engineer for your assignment."
"Where do we sleep?" asked Jarvis.
"I had nearly forgotten that. You will show the boys their cabin, Mr.
Major."
The first mate nodded. His was a surly face, and the lads did not
approve of him at first. However, upon gaining the deck the first mate
spoke to them in a tone that was kind and helpful.
"This is your first time out, isn't it, boys?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," replied Steve.
"Well, you'll get along all right. Do your work well and you will find
that Captain Simms will take to you all right. You will have enough time
off to rest and sleep, though the work is pretty steady on the lakes.
You will find this is the case when we are in port, even more than when
on the move. The loading and unloading keeps all hands at their
stations. You have been in the mines, have you not?"
"Yes, sir."
"We were foremen," interjected Bob.
The mate glanced at them in surprise.
"I should think you would have stayed there, then. The pay is better and
the hours more regular."
"We wished to learn this end of the business," answered Steve somewhat
shortly.
A few minutes later they were introduced to Mr. Macrae, the chief
engineer, in whose department they were to begin their work on a lake
steamer. The chief was a man of few words, these words always to the
point. The mate explained to him the disposition Captain Simms wished
made of the boys.
"Ever fire any?" demanded the chief.
Steve shook his head.
"Nothing more than a cook stove," spoke up Jarvis, with a twinkle in his
eyes, at which the chief's face threatened for a few seconds to relax
into a smile. Instead, it drew down harshly and his lips set more firmly
together.
"Humph! Nice couple to send me, and short-handed in the stoke hole, as
it is. Well, you'll fire all right, and you'll find it ain't no six-day
stove-firing, either."
"When do we go on?" asked Rush.
"I guess now is as good a time as any. Where's your jumpers?"
Steve glanced at his companion quizzically.
"Did we leave our bags down in the hold, Bob?"
"I guess that's where we left them, sure enough."
The mate sent a deck hand for the bags of the boys, after which they
retired to the cabin set aside for them at the stern of the ship, and
began preparing for their new work. They went on duty at nine o'clock,
being told that they would take a six-hour trick, with a six-hour
lay-off, after which they would report for duty again.
The chief took the boys below, introduced them to the foreman of the
fire room, then stood about while the foreman instructed them in their
duties. These consisted in keeping the fire up under two boilers. They
were obliged to throw the coal in many feet under the boiler, which
required both skill and strength.
When the fire doors were closed, the heat was still stifling, but when
the doors were thrown open waves of white hot heat leaped out enveloping
the stokers. The first time that Jarvis essayed the feat he burned his
eyebrows off by getting too close to the door and facing it full.
Bob sprang back with a growl that was half howl. As soon as he could get
the door closed he ran to the water barrel, sticking his head clear
under. The stoke-room gang howled uproariously.
"A lubber, eh?" laughed one of the stokers. "You'll get all the hotness
you want before you get out of this hole. How about you, pretty boy?"
turning to address Steve.
"You look out for your own furnaces, old man; I'll attend to mine, and
if I get stuck I'll ask somebody who knows."
The gang laughed at this, and the fellow whom Rush had answered so
sharply, glared angrily at the tall, slender lad who was throwing coal
into the white-hot mouth of the furnace. He was doing his work almost as
methodically as though he was used to it, save that his aim was not
quite as sure as in the case of the more experienced men.
After having watched the boys at work for a few minutes, Mr. Macrae
nodded to himself, then climbed up the ladders to the deck. He met the
master soon after.
"Get those boys to work?" demanded Captain Simms.
"Yes."
"Any good?"
"Pretty likely pair. They have the strength of yearling bulls. Where did
they come from? I didn't see them when we came out."
"No, they came out of the hold," grinned Captain Simms.
"Out of the hold?"
"Yes; funny thing about that. They boarded the ship with a load of ore."
The captain went on to explain how the boys came to be on board.
"Doesn't it strike you as peculiar that they are sent down here in this
way?"
"Not at all, Mac. They want to learn the business. Mr. Carrhart sent me
a line yesterday explaining the case. Said they were a fine pair, and he
wanted to see them get along."
"Then why put them in the hole?"
"Don't you think that will try them out as quickly as anything else?"
said the captain.
"I guess that's right," admitted the chief engineer. "And we need them
just now, too. I'm glad they are on board, even if they are green hands.
But young Rush is going to be a winner, and no mistake."
"What's the matter with the other one?"
"Nothing, except that he is a little fresh at times."
"So I already have observed. You will take that out of him, Mac."
"I'll do that all right, or break his back in the trying. The stoke hole
isn't any place for weaklings, as you and I know."
"Keep me posted. I want to know about them. If they make good maybe I'll
change them, giving them a berth on deck."
"We'd better give them a good try-out first," advised the chief.
"Certainly."
In the meantime the subjects of this discussion were toiling with might
and main far down below the water level. The ship seemed much steadier
down there, and there was scarcely any roll perceptible. Had it not been
for the terrific heat the youngsters would not have minded the work so
much. However, as the day drew on they began to feel the strain.
The gong, announcing the change of watch, sounded loud and startling.
They did not give it any heed, but kept right on shoveling.
"Well, are you fellows going to work right through the next trick?"
asked the foreman.
"Have we finished?" questioned Bob innocently.
"Until nine o'clock to-night."
The lads put down their shovels with a sigh of relief.
"Is there such a thing as a bath room that we can use?" questioned Rush.
"What? Do you fellows ever wash?" demanded the stoker who had had the
words with Steve earlier in the day.
"That depends upon the company we have been in," answered the lad
sharply. "Did you tell me about the bath room, sir?"
The foreman could not repress a grin. He pointed up the companion
ladder.
"You will find one on the deck above this. First door to the right."
"Thank you, sir."
Steve began climbing up the ladder, followed by Bob and, a few rungs
behind, by the surly stoker who had sought to have fun with the Iron
Boys and had got the worst of the argument in each case.
Their first trick on board an ore carrier had been gotten through
successfully, but it was about the hardest six hours the lads remembered
ever having put in. They hurried out into the air before taking a bath.
Never had fresh air smelled so sweet as it did that day. The lads were
black, the coating of soot on their faces being streaked with
perspiration, and their clothes could have been no wetter had they just
come up from the sea.
"This is about the limit!" laughed Bob Jarvis. "Here I am, without any
eyebrows and half my beautiful locks burned away, all because you and I
have ambitions to get on in the world. Honestly, Steve, is it worth it?"
"You know it is, Bob Jarvis," answered the Iron Boy, gazing straight
into the inflamed, soot-framed eyes of his companion.