By this time other men, attracted by the dump-man's cries, were scaling the trestle at a dozen different places. Among them was the superintendent himself, who, on his way to the dry house to put on his miner's suit preparatory to going below ground on his usual daily round, had heard the cry for help up on the trestle. The superintendent, despite his size, got to the top of the trestle ahead of any of the others and started on a run for the scene. "What's the trouble, Collins?" he shouted. "Man thrown up on the skip, sir." "Is he dead?" "I can't say, sir. I think most likely he is." "Who is it?" "Don't know him, but he's a young 'un. He's pretty badly banged up, so far as I can see." Superintendent Penton threw himself to the top of the ore car and assisted in getting the man out. At first he did not recognize the limp figure as being that of Steve Rush, for the red ore had been ground into the cut and bleeding face of the lad until he was almost unrecognizable. "Send for the stretchers. This man must be gotten to the hospital on the jump!" shouted the superintendent. The dump-man had lifted the boy from the car, had laid him down on the trestle and with his handkerchief was wiping the dark-red ore from the lad's mouth, eyes and nose. "He's alive, sir," called Collins. "But I reckon he won't be for very long." Mr. Penton stepped over, after giving his orders, and looked keenly down into the pale face before him. "What!" he exclaimed, bending close to the injured boy. "Good heavens, it's Steve Rush! This is too bad. How did it happen?" "I don't know, sir. The first I knew about it he came out of the hopper kerflop. I jumped up to dig him out, and then I went kerflop with a load of ore on my back. Woof! It's lucky for me the car was full or I'd have been at the bottom of the heap." Mr. Penton had picked Steve up in his arms. The burden seemed as nothing to this powerful man. And even when he reached the ladder leading down to the ground the superintendent appeared to experience no difficulty in making his way down with the heavy load he was carrying. Steve was rushed to the hospital, followed by the superintendent himself. The lad was still unconscious. A hasty examination by the surgeon was made in the presence of the superintendent. "Well?" Mr. Penton threw a world of meaning into the word. "No bones are broken. There may be some internal injury. I should judge there might be, from the fact that he is bleeding at the mouth. What happened?" "He was thrown up by the skip. That's all I know about it now. I want to know whether or not the boy is going to die. Then I will find out how it happened." After working over the unconscious boy for half an hour, the surgeon decided that there had been a severe concussion that might amount to a fracture. A few hours, he said, would tell the story. "I'll be back within the hour. Let no efforts be spared to straighten the lad out, if it be possible."