"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."
"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?"
"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.
"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.
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 made. He believed that, for some reason, the boys had been reduced to the ranks. The only directions he had received regarding what was to be done with the Iron Boys was the injunction of the assistant superintendent's messenger, to "make them work till they can't tell a cinder pit from a hole in the ground."