BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND
MR. CARRHART, the president of the mining company, arrived early on the
following morning. He was an experienced engineer, and with a force that
is characteristic of successful men in the industrial world, he quickly
put the mine in working condition.
In the meantime Mr. Carrhart had listened to the tale of the heroism of
the Iron Boys. They had saved the company thousands of dollars by their
efforts. On the second day he sent for the two boys and extended to them
his hearty congratulations, assuring them at the same time that he would
show the appreciation of the company in a more substantial way. He asked
Steve if there were anything he could do for him at that moment.
"No, sir; I thank you," was the prompt answer.
Late that afternoon Steve was approached by an inspector in the
mines named Cavard, a Russian. His first name, being practically
unpronounceable, had remained in disuse so long that nearly every one in
the mine had forgotten it. Cavard was called the Duke for short, because
of his dignified carriage and aristocratic airs. He was greatly
respected, however, especially by the foreign element in the mine, over
whom he exercised considerable influence. It was Cavard to whom they
turned to settle their differences; it was Cavard who advised them in
their money matters, and it had been rumored that he had profited
through this until he had amassed quite a sum of money. However, the man
was an experienced miner. He had worked up from grade to grade until he
had become an inspector, and though the officials of the company did not
like the man personally, they were forced to admit that he was valuable
to them.
Steve knew Cavard, though he had never passed five minutes' conversation
with him since the lads had been in the employ of the company. Steve did
not like the fellow; he had distrusted the Duke from the first. Their
dislike for each other appeared to have been mutual, Cavard treating
both boys with indifference and scorn.
Rush was, therefore, rather surprised when the Russian approached him
with cordial, outstretched hand that afternoon on the level where the
lad was attending to his duties.
"I want to congratulate you, Rush," said the inspector.
"What for?" asked Steve rather brusquely.
"For your heroism at the time of the fire. The men are all proud of
you."
"Thank you. I simply did my duty. Anyone would have done the same."
"But the fact remains, my boy, that no one did the same. The men were
panic-stricken. They were crazed with fear."
"So I observed. But I hear good reports of you also. You did your duty,
too. Why aren't they congratulating you?"
"Oh, that was nothing. By the way, Rush, you and I ought to be friends."
"I wasn't aware that we were enemies," replied the boy, with a faint
smile.
"I did not mean it that way. I meant that we ought to get together and
come to a better understanding."
"Thank you; I am too busy to indulge in friendships. I am much obliged
for your kindness, though."
"Pshaw, don't talk that way. I want you to do something for me."
"I shall be glad to do whatever I can for you, sir. What do you want?"
"Come and see me. You and I have much to talk over. We can talk better
in my own rooms. It may be to your advantage to talk matters over with
me."
"What is it you want to talk with me about?" asked Steve.
Steve's suspicions were aroused, though what lay behind the invitation
he did not know.
"Will you come?"
"I'll think about it," answered the lad. "Where do you live?"
"Twenty-three, Iron Street."
"Yes, I know the place."
"You might bring your friend Jarvis with you. He will be interested in
what I have to say. You are both boys of influence in the mines, and you
are advancing rapidly. We ought to be able to work together to our
mutual advantage."
Rush bade the inspector good afternoon and went about his duties. The
lad was puzzled. That Cavard was influenced by some ulterior motive he
was certain. But, puzzle over the matter as he might, Steve Rush was
unable to decide in his own mind what that motive might be. He was at
first inclined to accept Cavard's invitation to call on him. Upon
reflection, however, he decided that he wanted nothing to do with the
man.
That evening he talked the matter over with Bob, and Jarvis was of the
opinion that the less they had to do with the Russian the better it
would be for both of them. Later on, as the boys were taking their
evening walk, they passed Cavard strolling along the street with a
stranger. The latter was tall and well dressed. He was red of face, and
when he raised his hat to wipe the perspiration from his forehead the
boys saw that his head was crowned with a luxuriant growth of red hair.
His small, keen eyes took in every detail of the two boys in one
comprehensive glance. They saw him ask a quick question of Cavard. The
latter glanced at the boys, nodding smilingly, then answered the
red-headed man in a tone too low for them to catch the words.
"Who's the red head?" demanded Bob Jarvis.
"I don't know. I never saw him before," answered Steve, gazing
searchingly at the two men. "He is a stranger in this vicinity, that
is certain. I wonder what he and Cavard are talking about so
confidentially. By the way, Bob, have you kept your eyes open of late?"
"I usually do. What particular thing are you talking about?"
"What I spoke about before. Since the fire in the mine there has been
more talk than ever going on among the men."
"Yes; I have observed that."
"I have noticed also that our friend Cavard has had a most important
part in these talks. I wish I knew what he had in mind when he urged me
to come and see him. I believe that fellow will bear watching, Bob."
"I agree with you there. We'll keep an eye on him. He has nerve,
whatever other failings may be his. He certainly made himself useful at
the fire the other day and the men would lay down their lives for him at
any moment."
"Provided they didn't get an attack of cold feet," added Jarvis, with a
grin.
"You couldn't blame them for that. You must remember that the rank
and file of the men in the mines are ignorant and unreasoning. In
consequence they become easily panic-stricken in time of danger."
"Yes, that's so. A little knowledge does give a man more or less
courage."
"Because it gives him greater reasoning powers. It teaches him to reason
things out instead of getting scared and running away. That is why the
Duke is so far above the rank and file of the workers in the mines."
"I guess you're right, at that," agreed Bob.
"Of course I am. But I am convinced that we shall hear something from
Cavard before a great while that will interest us. He has made the first
move in asking us to come and see him. Of course we shall not do so, but
if he wants to see us very badly he will look us up, depend upon that.
If he approaches you, Bob, let him take the lead, but see to it that you
draw him out if you can without committing yourself."
"I'll do that; don't you worry. I'll show him I can play at a game of
wits just as well as he can."
"Don't underrate the fellow. Remember, he is a sharp, shrewd man. He is
playing a game unless I am greatly in error, and he is playing it very
shrewdly. We know that, because not a breath of what he is up to has
gotten to our ears."
"Have you asked anyone about him?"
"Well, I had a talk with the mine captain of the Cousin Jack the other
day. Jim thinks him a very capable man. He says that Cavard is one of
the best men in the mines, and that the Duke has more influence with the
miners than has any other man in the mines."
"That statement doesn't enlighten us as to Cavard's game."
"No, but we will eventually find it out. I shall try to throw myself in
Cavard's way without appearing to do so. Then perhaps he will open up
and give me a clue to what he is driving at."
"That's a good idea. I'll keep hands off and leave you a clear field to
work in."
Their further conversation along this line was interrupted by Mr.
Penton, who overtook them at that moment. He greeted the lads warmly and
walked with them until he reached his own home, where he left the Iron
Boys. They did not refer to the subject again that night. The following
day was Sunday, a day when all work is suspended in the mines, no matter
how great the demand for output.
Late in the afternoon Steve saw Cavard and the stranger walking out of
town, going in the direction of a little lake that lay a mile beyond the
mining town. After a time Rush observed other groups moving in the same
direction.
"Now I wonder if the whole town is going fishing," mused Rush. "I've a
good notion to follow them out and see what is going on. But I think I
had better stay at home and attend to my own business."
He did so, in a short time forgetting entirely what he had observed. The
matter was again brought to his attention when the men came back just
before the supper hour. Some of the men from his own boarding house had
been out to the lake. All of them seemed more or less excited over
something. The boys asked a few guarded questions, but gained no
information whatever, their questions being parried in every instance.
This made Steve Rush all the more determined to get to the bottom of the
mystery.
"I'd give a day's wages to know what that fellow, Cavard, has got in the
back of his head. I'll bet it would be interesting reading, and I'm
going to make it my business to find out. Something has been going on
to-day, Bob."
"Yes; it is easy to see that. Have you any idea what this secrecy
means?"
"Not the slightest in the world."
It was noticed that the red-haired stranger still lingered in town.
Steve learned that the man was in frequent communication with certain of
the workers in the mine, spending all, or the greater part of his
evenings at Cavard's lodgings on Iron Street.
One evening late in the week Rush walked down to the village hotel,
where he occasionally went to read the Chicago papers that were kept on
file there. He had seated himself at the long, paper-littered table in
the deserted reading room and settled himself for a quiet time. He had
been reading for some time when he suddenly heard his name spoken.
Glancing up quickly the Iron Boy found himself looking into the florid
face of the red-haired man whom he had seen with the Duke.
"Good evening, sir," said Steve innocently, resuming his reading.
"I am glad to make your acquaintance, young man. I have heard all about
your heroism at the time of the fire in the mine. It was a brave piece
of work that you and your friend--let's see, what is his name?"
"You mean Bob Jarvis?"
"Yes, that's the name--that you two did."
"Thank you. Let's talk about the weather."
The stranger laughed heartily.
"I see you are a humorist. I expect you will be at the head of a mine
yourself one of these fine days."
"I expect to be," answered the lad so quickly as fairly to take the
other man's breath away. "That day is a long way off, however."
"Perhaps not so far off as you think. There is a way that men of your
ability and mind may improve their conditions."
"May I ask what your business is, sir?"
"I am interested in mines. I am up here on mining business. By the way,
I have some of the finest samples of ore that you ever saw."
"Indeed."
Steve was interested in spite of himself.
"Yes; I can show you samples that will interest you greatly. If you have
a little time I wish you would come up to my room. We can talk to better
advantage there than down here, and besides I can show you the samples
without a crowd gathering about us."
"I do not know you, sir," answered the lad, with a half smile.
"My name is Driscold, Barney Driscold. I am from Chicago."
"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Driscold," said Rush, extending his hand.
"Under the circumstances I shall be glad to see the ore you speak of. I
am always willing to look at anything that will add to my store of
knowledge."
"I know that. Come with me. I am interested in young men like you. Where
is your friend to-night?"
"He has gone to call on another friend."
Steve rose and started after Driscold. The latter did not pass through
the lobby of the hotel, but made his way back through the parlor on the
ground floor, opening a door that revealed a stairway leading to the
floor above. Steve had never been upstairs in the hotel. He did not even
know the arrangement of the rooms up there. He was a shrewd boy, and
perhaps he was not so much attracted by the promised exhibition of ore
as he was by the idea of learning something about Mr. Driscold.
The latter led him down a hall toward the front of the building, then
entered a small, cosy parlor, which he had engaged for his use while in
the mining town.
"Have a seat," said Driscold cordially, as he turned on the lights, then
drew up a chair close to where Steve Rush had seated himself.
"I guess something is going to start in a short time," thought Steve.
"Where are the ore samples, sir?" he asked.
Driscold brought out a handful of specimens of copper ore that he had in
his bag. These he laid on the little round table that stood at the side
of his chair.
Steve picked up the samples. He saw at once that they were inferior
samples, not worthy even of passing consideration.
"Where do these samples come from, sir?" he asked, apparently deeply
interested.
"From a new mine over in Michigan. I am interested in the mine and I
thought you would be interested in the ore we take from it."
"Yes, sir."
"We have some ideal conditions in the mine. Our men are better paid and
have shorter hours than you men have up here. You work ten hours here,
while our men work only eight."
"Yes, sir."
"I presume that you would like to have shorter hours and get more money
at the same time, would you not?"
"That depends," replied Rush evasively.
"Upon what?"
"Oh, it depends upon several things. In what way do you accomplish this
in your new copper mine?"
"By organization purely."
"I don't think I quite understand."
"By organization I mean organizing the working men."
"Oh, you mean holding up one's employers; in other words, throttling
them and compelling them to grant one's demands. Is that what you mean?"
demanded the lad with sharp incisiveness.
"Oh, no, no, no! You misunderstand me. We do nothing of the sort.
We----"
Driscold was interrupted by a rap on the door.
"Come in," he called.
A man stepped into the room. Steve could scarce repress an exclamation
as he saw and recognized the newcomer.
"I begin to understand what the game is now," thought the boy, as he
leaned back in his chair with a smile of recognition on his face.