"The boy is alive," answered the surgeon. "I don't know how long he will be. We must get him to the hospital at once. Here, carry this boy out!" he commanded. "Have the driver hurry in with him. I will go on the other wagon, as soon as I have dressed the wounds of this other man." Steve started to follow the men who were carrying Bob out. Kalinski grabbed Steve by the arm. "See here, where you going?" "To the hospital with my friend." "Nothing of the sort. You're going to get to work, that's what you are going to do. You'll have lots of time to visit the hospital when you take your vacation." Steve Rush hesitated. He wanted to be with Bob, but he knew he had no right to walk out and leave his work in this manner. It would be sufficient cause for his discharge were he to do so. "Then I will ask you to let me off for the rest of the day." "Didn't I tell you to go to work?" shouted Kalinski. "I'll have you fired for this day's work if it's the last thing I ever do." Rush did not understand the full meaning of the words. He was troubled. Things were not going with the same smoothness that they had for the last two years. Steve was in an atmosphere different from that of the mines, or even of the lakes. He did not know just how to adjust himself to the conditions. Then, again, there was Bob in the hospital, perhaps dying. "I must do my duty, and I'm going to do it," muttered the Iron Boy. "They shan't say that I am not to be depended upon. What do you want me to do, Mr. Kalinski?" he asked, turning to the pit boss. "Now, what do you suppose I want you to do? What were you doing before you two blew up the mill?" "In the first place we did not blow up the mill. I was working in pit seven when the other one exploded." "Then git back in number seven, unless you want me to throw you in--or out of the mill altogether. I'll have you fired if the boss don't do it for me." "I don't think you will fire me," answered Steve, bristling. "I won't, eh?" "No, you won't!" "I'll either fire you out of the shop or else I'll break your head for you. Take your choice." Steve surveyed the irate boss for a few seconds, then picking up his shovel walked slowly toward the pit in which he had had such a narrow escape from death. Watski grinned sardonically. "That's the time I took the wind out of his sails. I'll comb him down so fine he'll be sorry he ever got in my shift. It ought to be easy now. I've got both of them dead to rights. You bet I have!"