"He said perhaps I could go in the morning, but I'm all right. I could go home now, just as well as not. I want to go back to the mill and go to work in the morning." "No need of that. I don't think either of us will start in to-morrow." "What? Not start in? What do you mean?" "Never mind now. We will talk about it when you get home." "Look here, Steve Rush, something has been going on that I don't know anything about. What is it?" "Don't bother about asking questions. I shouldn't have excited your curiosity," answered Steve, laughing to cover his chagrin at having let the words slip out. "I'll tell you what we'll do; we will take our lunches and go down the river to-morrow for a picnic, if you are able. After you have rested up for a day perhaps you will feel able to go to work." "But you said we weren't going to work." "Did I?" "You did, and I want to know why. Come on now; I'm no tenderfoot, and you know it. Why don't we go to work?" "Because we have both been discharged. There, you have it, now." "Fired?" "Yes." "What for?" "You ought to be able to guess." "I'm not much of a guesser." "Well, then, because we blew up the pit." Bob gazed at his companion unbelievingly. "Come now, you're joking. They're not all fools down at the mill. I blew up the pit--you didn't, and I didn't know that I was doing so, of course. I'm no anarchist, and neither are you." "Nevertheless, they hold us responsible for it." "I know who's at the bottom of this. It's that wooden Indian, Kalinski, and--and----" "Foley," added Steve. "Yes, they're a choice pair. They have had a rod in pickle for both of us ever since you made the report on Foley at the time of that burning accident. Did _they_ fire us?" "No, not directly. Mr. McNaughton did so, but they were at the bottom of it. They told him lies about us, and he believed them. Think of it, Bob. He wouldn't believe what I told him. He thought I was the one who was telling the untruths." "Tell me all about it." Rush did so, relating all that had occurred during his visit to the division superintendent's office, the injured boy listening with darkening face as the narration continued. He nodded approvingly when Steve related how he had invited the two men out to get their heads punched. "Didn't go, did they?" "No." "I thought not. They've both got a streak of yellow in them that runs all the way from their heads down into their boot-tops. Wait till I get out! I've got a couple of good, swift punches in stock for them! They won't wake up for half an hour, once I unlimber," threatened Jarvis, shaking his bandaged fists threateningly.