"Rush. He die pretty soon if we no get him out." "Go on! Get him out yourself. I've got plenty on my hands. I'll help you when I can get to it. There are others here who need me. Go along, now, and get the crazy fool out," added the pit boss, turning away. Ignatz did not seem surprised. He appeared more disappointed than otherwise. That one of his countrymen should be so heartless made no great impression on the boy. What he was concerned in now was finding some one who would help him get his young friend out of the pit. Brodsky ran here and there, with the result that he at last found two mill hands who hurried to the pit with him. It was no easy task, even for them, to get Steve out. The Iron Boy was still conscious, but he was quite seriously burned about the body. Fortunately he had saved his head and face from being very badly scarred. After nearly pulling the boy's arms from his shoulders, working him from side to side as they would a post that they were trying to pull out of the ground, the men dragged him to safety. "We take him to hospital," nodded Brodsky. "Is the ambulance here?" Ignatz nodded, whereupon the men carried Steve out and placed him in an ambulance. A second ambulance had just arrived, so the surgeon of that made a quick emergency dressing of the lad's burns, directing him to remain in the ambulance. Rush felt no inclination to do otherwise at that moment. "Ignatz," he called. "What is it?" "I want you to find Bob." "Where?" "I don't know." "Mebby Bob is killed." "Wait! Tell me what happened." "The pit he blow up." "What pit?" "Number eight." "Oh, that was the one Bob was sprinkling?" "Yes. Put too much water on. Bang!" exclaimed Ignatz, striking a dramatic attitude. "Then he is surely killed or badly injured. Run, Ignatz! Find him. Don't you come back here until you have." "Ignatz find him," answered the Pole, darting back into the building, from which a dense cloud of smoke was rolling through the crevices in the roof and from the doors and windows. No sooner had Brodsky left him than Steve pulled himself up and peered out. There was no one in sight, so he slipped from the ambulance. He was barely able to stand alone, and for a moment clung to a rear wheel of the wagon for support. The boy's burns hurt him so that he winced. Every movement made him want to groan, but he shut his lips tightly together and by sheer force of will pulled himself up. "I'm going in to look for Bob," he muttered, starting unsteadily for the door of the mill. The smoke was still so thick that Rush could not make out much of anything. He staggered along until he reached the spot where the explosion had occurred. There he found the accident man gathering his facts. "Hello, Rush! You're hurt, aren't you?" "Not much." "Then you can tell me all about this. You were in it, weren't you?" "I guess I was. But I can't tell you anything now. I'll tell you all I know later on. Have you seen Jarvis?" "No; where is he?"