lake.

"Great!" exclaimed Steve.

The ship was rolling gently. They glanced about them, but there was no land in sight. Everything was a sea of green, with white-capped combers tracing long lines of white against the deep green.

"Beautiful, isn't it, old chap?"

"It might be, if there were some land in sight. Where's everybody?"

"I don't know, but we will find out."

Smoke was rolling from the funnel of the steamer, a ribbon of white steam from the exhaust pipe trailing off astern and losing itself in the black smoke.

"This is a beautiful sight, even if we have lost our boat and gone to sea on an unknown craft," exclaimed Rush, his eyes glistening.

"Pshaw!" grunted Jarvis.

"I guess it is about time we looked up some one and found out whether we are headed for the Soo, or——"

"Or the North Pole," added Jarvis.

"Well, who are you?" demanded a gruff voice just behind the lads.

The Iron Boys wheeled sharply.

They found themselves facing a thick-set man, whose face, from exposure to wind and sunshine, was almost fiery red. He was surveying the boys from head to foot with a look of stern disapproval.

Steve and Bob, with their torn and soiled clothes, did present a most disreputable appearance. Their hair was unkempt and full of red ore, while their linen, white and clean when they left home on the previous day, now also partook of the color of the iron ore in which they had wallowed for several hours.

"May I ask who you are, sir?" questioned Steve politely.

"I am the captain of this ship, and, unless you answer my question pretty lively, I'll have you ironed and thrown into the hold."

"We have just come from there, sir," interrupted Bob.

"That is quite evident from your appearance. You are stowaways, eh?"

"No, sir; we got into the ship by accident, last night, and could not get out. We tried to attract attention, but were unable to do so."

"What were you doing around the ship?"

"We were to ship on the 'Wanderer.' We lost our way on the docks and fell into the hold of this ship. We had a hard time getting out, but here we are, hoping to get to our ship as soon as we get to the next stop."

It was the captain's turn to look astonished.

CHAPTER IV

THE BOYS STAND THE TEST

You want to get on board the 'Wanderer,' eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"What for?"

"I have told you we were to ship on her—we were to work on board."

"What were you to do on board?"

"We were to work at whatever we were set at."

"Hm-m-m!" mused the red-faced skipper. "Had your breakfast?"

"No, sir; we have not had anything to eat since we ate luncheon yesterday noon."

"Hm-m-m-m. Come with me."

The captain led the way aft over the decks, along a walk at the side of the hatches, which the lads observed were snugly battened down. Their conductor passed on by the engine house, clear to the stern of the vessel, where he entered the door of the deck-house.

"Jake!" he called sharply, poking his head into the room.

A white-capped, white-aproned man suddenly made his appearance.

"Vat iss?" demanded the ship's cook.

"Give these boys some breakfast."

Jake surveyed the boys critically before replying.

"Ja," he said, turning back into his kitchen.

"Sit down at the table. When you have finished eating come forward and I will talk with you."

"Thank you. Where shall we find you, sir?" asked Rush.

"If I'm not in the wheel house I'll be somewhere else."

"I hope you won't take it into your head to meet us in the hold," interjected Jarvis. "We have had hold enough to hold us for the rest of our lives."

"Don't get smart, young man," snapped the master, turning and leaving the room.

"I wouldn't get funny with the captain, were I in your place," warned Steve. "He evidently doesn't appreciate your jokes. Smell that breakfast?"

"You bet I do, but smelling won't help much."

Jake soon brought in a satisfying meal, to which the boys helped themselves liberally. The cook stood about watching them questioningly for a time, but, as the boys seemed too busy to open a conversation with him, he turned back to his galley with a deep grunt of disapproval.

After having finished their meal the Iron Boys went out on deck, where for a time they stood leaning over the rail looking down into the foaming water slipping past the side of the ship.

"We had better be going forward, Bob," suggested Steve.

On the way forward they passed several deck hands at work. Some were sweeping, others washing down the decks with a hose and a scrub brush.

"That's going to be our job, I guess," grinned Bob.

"Then, it's me for the mines, Steve Rush!"

Inquiring for the captain, they were told that he was in his cabin just under the pilot-house. They hurried there, and, knocking, were told to enter. The captain's quarters they found, to their surprise, to be luxurious. There was an observation room extending across the ship, with eight windows in front, looking out on the sea ahead of the ship. Off from this observation room and to the rear of it were two handsome bedrooms, furnished with brass bedsteads and hung with silk draperies.

Bob looked around for a mat on which to wipe his feet.

The captain, seated at a desk, turned around in his chair, surveying the boys critically.

"You certainly are not very handsome to look at," was his comment, uttered in a gruff tone.

"No, sir, not very," admitted Steve, flushing as he looked down at his soiled clothes.

"Do we have to dress up on this ship?" demanded Jarvis, with some heat.

"You will have to do one thing—preserve a respectful attitude toward the commanding officer, and take orders without giving any back talk," replied the master, eyeing the boy sternly.

"We aren't working on this ship."

"Perhaps you think you are not, but you are."

"We are working, or going to work, on the 'Wanderer,'" answered Bob.

"That is what I am saying. This is the 'Wanderer.'"

"The 'Wanderer'?" exclaimed the lads.

"Yes."

"Then we did fall into luck, after all."

"It looks that way, though you may change your minds before you've been aboard long. Which of you is which?"

"I am Steve Rush. This is Bob Jarvis."

"Glad to meet you, young gentlemen."

They could not tell if the captain intended the words to be sarcastic, or whether he meant to be polite to them. They were rather inclined to the former opinion.

"When do we go to work?" demanded Jarvis.

"Now; at once. We don't have any lazybones on board this ship. Are you men strong?"

"Yes, sir; I think so," replied Steve, smiling.

"Can you shovel coal?"

"We can shovel anything that we are able to lift."

"Very well, then; I'll put you in the stoke hole."

"What kind of a hole is that?" questioned Jarvis.

"That is the place where the black-faced gang shovel the fuel under the boilers to make the ship move along."

"Oh, you mean the firemen?"

"That's the scientific name. The common name is stoker. I'll send you down to the chief engineer, and he will give you a trick. You'll have to work like sixty, and if you don't you'll get off at the Soo and foot it back home," continued the skipper gruffly.

If Steve were disappointed, or objected to the work that had been assigned to them, he made no comment. Jarvis, however, made no secret of his displeasure. He