Down below Steve, on hands and knees, was patting the sand in the gutters into place, smoothing it off so that there should be no projections to catch and retard the flow of the hot metal when the next cast was made. He found Pig-Iron Peel, despite his rough appearance, to be a kind-hearted man. This was a distinct relief after the experience of the lads in the cinder pits under two bosses who had lost no opportunity to do them harm. Now and then the head melter would step over to instruct the Iron Boy in his duties, and even at the distance from the furnace that Steve was working the heat was well-nigh unbearable. He was obliged to make frequent trips to the water barrel, and now and then he showered himself from head to foot with the ready hose. The skin was peeling from his face and his work clothes were burned through in many places. "Stand by for the tap!" commanded Peel. Rush was so busy that he did not hear the command. He did hear the tap, tap of the mall as it drove against the prodding rod, but this held no special significance for him. In the darkness preceding the cast the others did not observe him. Suddenly, with a roar, the saffron flood burst through the clay dam. Millions of hissing stars leaped into the air and a river of molten metal swooped down on Steve Rush in its all-consuming flight. CHAPTER XV MENACED BY A DOUBLE PERIL "Look out!" roared the warning voice of the head melter. Steve turned just in time to see a wall of golden metal almost towering over him. Even his quick mind did not grasp the meaning of the scene until it was too late. His muscles refused to obey his command, and for once in his life the Iron Boy stood with a sensation in his heart that was not far removed from fear. He did not know which way to turn for safety, even had he possessed the strength to escape from his perilous position. Yells and shouts of warning from all sides merely served to confuse him the more. Had it been daylight Rush no doubt would have quickly thrown himself to one side. Suddenly something came whirling through the air. The Iron Boy did not see it, and it is doubtful if more than one man about the furnace did. It was a dark object, and it smote Steve across the chest with terrific force. The Iron Boy staggered backward, toppled over just as the molten flood from the furnace went hissing past. The boy did not stop there. His body began rolling down the incline leading to the jumping-off place, below which the tracks were located. His body shot over ahead of the metal, for that had to follow a circuitous course. There was little danger of its overtaking him, as a dam at the lower end was intended to check its flow until the train had backed in with the ladles to receive the ore. This train, as it chanced, was at the moment backing down to the furnace at high speed, for the train was late and the tapping of the furnace, the engineer knew, could not be delayed without perhaps doing great damage to the metal.