The Iron Boys on the Ore Boats Part 11

"Nine o'clock."

"Tell them to report to me after they get fixed up."

"Very good, sir."

Captain Simms went to his cabin, where he related to the first mate the story of the fire room row. Both officers laughed heartily.

"I would have given a month's wages to have seen that fuss," laughed the mate. "I guess the black-face gang has come to the conclusion that it has picked up a couple of Tartars. Evidently it isn't the first time those lads have been called upon to take care of themselves."

Before the stoke hole watch knocked off the captain made it his business to go below and look over the men. Every man save the Iron Boys wore a sullen, revengeful look on his face. But this was not all. There was blood on several of the faces, and the men's clothes and hair still bore traces of the shower bath that Steve Rush had given them.

Neither lad paid any attention to the captain. They went on with their work as steadily as though he were not present, or nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

The captain turned away rather hastily and left the compartment. He felt that, if he remained a second longer, he would have to laugh. That would not do at all. And laugh he did, after he had gotten far enough away from the fire room to make wise such a proceeding.

"I'll get even with you for that!" snarled Smith in Rush's ear, after the departure of the master.

Steve made no reply.

"You'll wake up one of these fine mornings wetter than I was after you turned the hose on me, you whelp!"

Smith drove his elbow into the Iron Boy's side with considerable force.

Rush slowly faced him.

"Look here, you loafer, I'll knock you down if you do that again. Or, if you prefer it, I'll give you another bath. You are trying to pick a fight with me. I am not looking for it, but if you insist I'll give you what you want. Fight or stop!"

Smith glanced uneasily at the door leading from the fire room, muttered something unintelligible to the others and began shoveling coal into his furnace.

Shortly after that the watch ended. Steve hurried through his bath.

After putting on his clean clothes he called on the captain. The latter looked over the slim, well set-up young lad quizzically.

"I didn't think it of you, Rush."

Steve flushed painfully.

"You wish to see me, sir?"

"Yes. Be careful. In this instance let me say very frankly that I am glad you cleaned out that lot. The only trouble is that you ought to have thrown the whole gang overboard. We can't spare them, or I might have done it myself before this. I'm going to take you two boys off the stoke hole watch."

"What do you wish us to do, sir?"

"I will promote you to the deck."

CHAPTER VII

THE IRON BOYS ON DECK

THE lads began their work above decks on the following day. It was a welcome relief to be out in the open air, with the wind blowing over them, the soft odors of the inland seas mingling with the faint perfume of the land drifting out from the unseen sh.o.r.es.

The first work of the Iron Boys was to remove the hatches that the sun might penetrate the hold and dry out the ore, which had been put in very damp. Ore in that condition did not handle easily, taking up time and costing considerably more to handle than when dry. Steve pondered over this all during his first forenoon's work. Here was something that ought to be remedied. His fertile brain was at a loss to solve the problem. He talked the matter over with Jarvis after luncheon, that day, and asked his companion's opinion.

"That's easy," answered Bob promptly. "Put a stove in."

"Where?"

"In the ore pockets on the trestles."

"That would be fine," grinned Steve. "But you have given me an idea. I will think it over. There is a point that it will pay us both to think over very carefully. Have you seen anything of our friends from below decks this morning?"

"No; I guess they must be sleeping."

"Look out, Bob. We haven't heard the last from Smith. He is a vengeful fellow and he will try to get even with us. I hope he doesn't s.h.i.+p with us on the return trip."

"I'll punch his head for him if he gets funny with me."

"I don't like the man's looks at all. It is my opinion that he is a desperate character."

"Well, so are we, for that matter," replied Jarvis with a mirthless grin.

"I am beginning to think so myself, old chap. It seems almost impossible for us to keep out of trouble. I, for one, am going to stop it. Next time any rough argument is started I'm going to run."

Jarvis laughed uproariously.

"I think I see you doing it! Why, you wouldn't run if you saw a herd of elephants charging you. No, sir--not Steve Rus.h.!.+"

At about four o'clock in the afternoon the boys were ordered to a.s.sist in replacing the hatches to make all snug for the night. The vessel was slipping down Lake Huron, now, at an eleven-knot gait. There was a gentle roll on the sea, but neither lad minded that. Neither would suffer further from seasickness, they felt sure.

The hatches having been made secure there was nothing more to be done for the rest of the afternoon. The lads were free to go where they pleased and do as they pleased. They repaired to their cabin, where they remained until supper time. They now ate with the s.h.i.+p's officers, the stokers and oilers having a mess-room by themselves. The officers'

mess-room was a roomy apartment at the extreme stern of the s.h.i.+p, and the food served there was excellent. The boys did not remember ever to have had better.

Mr. Major, the first mate, occupied the lower end of the long table, while the captain sat at the head. There was little conversation. The princ.i.p.al business was eating, sailors having a habit of shoveling in their food as fast as possible when it is placed before them.

The result was that Steve and Bob, being accustomed to eat slowly and chew their food well, were not half through when the others rose from the table.

"Going to eat all night?" demanded the captain, with the suspicion of a smile on his face.

"Oh, no," laughed Rush. "Not quite so long as that, I hope."

"How about you?" questioned the master, nodding at Jarvis.

"Well," answered Bob reflectively, "as nearly as I can figure it I am about amids.h.i.+ps between soup and pie. If I don't fall through the centre hatch before I reach the pie end I'll be on deck about seven o'clock."

The officers laughed heartily.