And the stokers--they were indeed sights. Black as coal and as shiny as patent-leather boots, which, with their fiery red hair, made them look like chimney-pots on fire. Here and there among them wandered an old, old man with a very wise face and long white hair. In one hand he carried a pair of scales and with the other he was putting into them first some of this and then some of that, which he weighed carefully and deposited in what looked like a great big cartridge shell. "How do you do, sir?" said Billy. "Gun cotton and vaseline in parts of two to----Oh! How do _you_ do?" "Sir," said Billy, "I understood the last part of your sentence, but I don't think I heard the first part very well." "A little sulphur--now I wonder if I'd better put any safety-matches in it this time--what do you think, boy?" And he looked at Billy as if he were a thousand miles off. "I don't know, sir." "Then why do you presume to offer advice? So you don't think safety-matches a safe thing to put in it? Neither do I." "But I said I didn't know," said Billy. "True, you did; I had forgotten. If that's the case, I'd better use sulphur-matches." "Are you the Alchemist?" "Let's see, am I? I've really forgotten. Ace of Spades," calling to the blackest stoker of them all, "come here." "Yes, sir," said Ace, running up to them. "Well, what do you want?" asked the old man, looking at Ace in surprise. "You called me, sir," said Ace. "Did I--what for? Do you know?" "No, sir," said Ace. "Excuse me," said Billy, "but I think it was to ask him if you were the Alchemist." "That can't have been it, because I _am_ the Alchemist. No doubt about that, is there, Ace?" "No, sir," said Ace. "Then don't interrupt me again with your foolish questions, Ace; you know it bothers me when I'm making up a sample eruption." Ace bowed gravely, as if he were used to such things, and ran back to his work. [Illustration: _The Alchemist._] "That's the trouble with these men," said the Alchemist; "they are all so absent-minded. If I were not here to think for them, I don't know what would become of the business." "Excuse me----" began Billy. "Certainly," interrupted the Alchemist, absent-mindedly putting some gun-cotton in his ears. "I was going to say--did you say you were making a sample eruption?" "Did you speak to me? I seem to have heard you speak." "Yes, sir." "I can't hear a word you say--I'm afraid I'm growing deaf. Now what did I do with that gun-cotton I had a moment ago?" and the Alchemist looked for it in every place but in his ears. But Billy, by making motions, showed him where it was, and he pulled it out in great surprise. "You shouldn't do that," said he severely, "it's a very dangerous thing." "But I didn't," said Billy; "you did it yourself." "Tut-tut--why should I put gun-cotton in my own ears? I never listen to evil reports."