already said, we have never had men in the accident department who were as thorough and trustworthy as you and Jarvis. It is also easy work, compared with other occupations in the mill."

"That is just it, it's too easy. Give me something hard, something that will keep my muscles up. We have been leading an active life for the past two or three years, Mr. Keating. We'll go stale if we don't get to work soon."

"Will Jarvis wish to change also?"

"I have not talked the matter over with him. He usually wants to go with me wherever I go."

"Have you any choice as to department or work?"

"No, sir, save that I should like to work through all of them."

"But, lad, there are many trades represented in the mills. You cannot hope to learn all of them," objected the general superintendent.

"I do not want to learn them all, Mr. Keating. There is only one trade that I want to learn, and I do want to know all about that, even though it takes me years to learn it."

"What trade is that?" smiled the superintendent indulgently.

"The steel trade. I want to learn the steel business. I have a fairly good working knowledge of the ore business right down to the gates of the mills, but when I get inside the fence surrounding the mills I am in an unknown world, as it were."

"So it is to a majority of the men working there. But I begin to understand. You have ambitions," laughed Mr. Keating.

"Yes, sir, I have."

"What have you ambitions to become, if I may ask?"

"To have as thorough a knowledge of the manufacture of steel as any man in the country," answered Steve Rush boldly.

Mr. Keating gazed at the lad keenly. He saw that the boy meant exactly what he said. The superintendent saw the Iron Boy in a new light, from a new viewpoint as it were. He had been told by Mr. Carrhart, president of the mining company, that these were two unusual boys, and Mr. Keating had found them to be unusual in that they were more efficient than any young men he ever had had under him in the offices. He had not, however, fully realized the extent of the ambitions of the boys. Here was a boy in a nice, easy berth, drawing twelve dollars a week, and the boy was complaining because the work was too easy. He wanted something to do to keep his muscles up!

The superintendent's first inclination was to laugh, but the sober, earnest face of the Iron Boy robbed the situation of its humor.

"I have handled men for many years, my lad, but I am forced to admit that I never had such an unusual demand made upon me."

"I am sorry, sir, if I——"

"It is usually quite the opposite. The young fellows want something easier to do, and at more pay. Let me see; you boys, I understand, were drawing more than a hundred dollars a month in the mines up on our iron ranges?"

"Yes, sir."

"How much did you get on the lakes?"

"The same."

"And you are getting twelve dollars weekly here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Quite a come down from twenty-five dollars a week to twelve, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir, as far as dollars and cents go. But there are other things to consider when one starts out to make a future for himself."

"You are right, my lad; there are other things to consider. The trouble is that few of our young men of the present generation consider them. They expect to be pushed along to the head of the procession, but without the trouble of taking their turn in the ranks and learning the business by the sweat of their brows. I should like to be able to give you more money; in fact, I have been considering giving you an increase very soon. If you change, of course, I shall not be able to do that. Wages in the mills are fixed."

"Yes, sir."

"A certain scale of prices prevails and it is not within my power to change those prices. Only the Board of Directors can do that by a two-thirds vote."

"I shall be content with my present wages," answered Rush.

"That is just the trouble. You will not receive your present wages. Your wages will, of necessity, be reduced with your change of occupation."

"Oh, very well, sir."

"Yes! I am sorry, but the rule is inflexible."

"How much shall I get in the mills, sir?"

"We start all our boys and men at a dollar a day."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you still of the opinion that you want to make the change?" questioned the superintendent, with a quizzical smile.

"Yes, sir."

"Then all I have to say is that you are the kind of young man that the steel company is looking for," announced Mr. Keating, pushing back the papers on his desk, toying thoughtfully with a paper cutter.

"Thank you. Then you will give us a place in the mills—you will permit us to make the change without prejudice, will you not?"

"Indeed, yes."

"Where will you put us?"

"I shall have to think about that. I'll have to pick out something hard," laughed the superintendent. "I think we shall be able to satisfy you on that point."

"I shall be satisfied, whatever you decide."

"Wait a moment. I will speak with the assistant superintendent. Perhaps we can settle the matter right here."

Mr. Keating stepped into an adjoining office and was closeted with his assistant for some time. What was said there, of course, Rush did not know. When the superintendent returned he was smiling.

"Well, sir, it's all settled," announced Mr. Keating. "You will wish you hadn't spoken."

The superintendent chuckled as if it were an excellent joke. Steve smiled in sympathy with the joke that he did not understand.

"You will receive the munificent sum of a dollar a day, and your job will be in the cinder pits."

"Yes, sir; what do we do there?"

"Shovel cinders the greater part of the time. You know the cinder pits are located in the open-hearth furnace building. The cinders and slag are dumped into these pits after the casts are made. When the pits get cool enough the pitmen get in and shovel the stuff out. Are you fully decided to take the job?"

"Yes, sir."

"I see there is no swerving you from your purpose. To tell the truth, I was in hopes you would draw back. But, after all, I am glad that you did not," added Mr. Keating, nodding his head reflectively.

"When do we begin the new work, sir?"

"You may start in to-morrow morning. I will have the foreman make a shift in order to make room for you."

"Thank you, sir. What pit do we work in?"

"I will put you in number seven, Foley's pit."

"I think I see my finish," muttered Steve. He knew how Foley felt toward him for having made the report he did on the accident that day, and Rush expected no quarter.

"I'll take what comes to me and keep my mouth shut," he added to himself. But had the Iron Boy known all that was in store for him he might have changed his mind.

CHAPTER III

IN THE CINDER PIT

BOB JARVIS had been a little doubtful when Steve told him of the change in their work. Bob thought the present job was quite good enough, all but the pay; yet he was willing to get along on twelve dollars a week so long as he had so much leisure time.

On the following morning the two boys reported for duty to the foreman of number seven hearth, Bill Foley. There was a gleam of quiet satisfaction in the eyes of the foreman as he saw the boys coming toward his division. He had been informed that they were to work on a trick in number seven section. Foley did not know why the change had been