Guilt of the Brass Thieves Part 10

"Each one of those ingots weighs twenty thousand pounds," Jack said, surprising Penny with his knowledge. "After stripping, they are placed in gas-heated pit furnaces and brought to rolling temperature."

To see fiery ribbons of steel rolled from cherry red ingots was to Penny the most fascinating process of all. She could have watched for hours, but Jack, bored by the familiar sight, kept urging her on.

Leaving the steel plant, they returned to the main factory buildings, and without thinking, sauntered toward the room where Sally worked. A portable lunch cart had just supplied hot soup and sandwiches to the employes. Sally sat eating at her machine. Seeing Jack, she quickly looked away.

"Now she's really sore at me, and I can't blame her," Jack commented.

"Who is Joe the Sweeper anyhow? Riff-raff, I'll warrant."

Though somewhat amused by the boy's staunch defense of Sally, Penny was inclined to agree in his second observation. Although she knew nothing of the man who had turned informer, she had not liked the sly look of his face.

Before the pair could approach Sally, the brief lunch period came to an end. A whistle blew, sending the girls back to their machines.

"You'll have to step on it," a foreman told Sally. "You're behind in your quota."

Her reply was inaudible, but as she adjusted her machine and started it up, she began to work with nervous haste.

"This is no place for Sally," Jack said, obviously bothered. "She never was cut out for factory work. And that foreman, Rogers, who is over her!

He's a regular slave driver!"

"I thought you didn't like Sally," Penny teased.

"I want to see her get a square deal, that's all," Jack replied, his face flus.h.i.+ng.

Joe the Sweeper sidled over to the couple. "What's the verdict?" he asked in a confidential tone.

Jack pretended not to understand.

"Is the gal going to get fired?"

"I'm sure I don't know," Jack answered coldly. "Why does it mean so much to you?"

"Why, it don't," the sweeper muttered. "She ain't no skin off my elbow."

Penny and Jack walked on through the workroom, aware that many pairs of eyes followed them. Sally, bending over a grinding machine, looked up self-consciously. She was grinding pieces of metal, measuring each with a micrometer. There was a streak of grease across her cheek and she looked very tired.

Suddenly as Sally threw the wheel in, there was a loud clattering noise.

The foreman came running. He threw the wheel back.

"What did I do?" Sally gasped, shaking from nervousness.

"You forgot to pull this lever." The foreman said curtly. "Ruined a piece of work too! Now try to think what you're doing and get down to business."

Penny and Jack moved away, not wis.h.i.+ng to add to the girl's embarra.s.sment. But a few minutes later, in leaving the workroom, they again pa.s.sed close to Sally's machine. This time she did not see them until they were almost beside her.

"How is it going, Sally?" Jack asked in a friendly way.

Sally raised her eyes, and in so doing forgot her work. As she automatically placed the metal in line with the wheel, she held her fingers there without thinking. Another instant and they would have been mangled.

Horrified, Penny saw what was about to happen.

"Sally!" she cried. Acting instinctively, she reached and jerked the girl's hand away from the swift turning machinery. The wheel had missed Sally's fingers by a mere fraction of an inch.

The foreman came running again, obviously annoyed. Shutting off the machine, he demanded to know what was wrong.

Sally leaned her head weakly on the table, trying to regain composure.

Her face was drained of color and she trembled as from a chill. "Thanks,"

she said brokenly to Penny. "I--I don't know what's the matter with me tonight. I'm not coordinated right."

"Go take a walk," the foreman advised, not unkindly. "A nice long walk.

Get a drink or something. You'll be okay."

"I'll never learn," Sally said in a choked voice.

"Sure, you will. Everyone has to go through a beginner's stage. Get yourself a drink. Then you'll feel better."

"Let me go with you," Penny said, taking Sally by the arm.

Without conversation, they made their way between the long rows of machines to the locker room. There Sally sank down on a bench, burying her face in her hands.

"I'm nervous and upset tonight," she excused herself. "I can't seem to get the hang of machine work."

"Why not give it up? Do you really need the money so badly?"

"No," Sally admitted truthfully. "I've set my heart on a college education, but Pop could raise the money somehow. It's just that he's had financial troubles the past year, and I wanted to help out."

"Some persons aren't cut out to be factory workers," Penny resumed. "Do you realize that you nearly lost several of your fingers tonight?"

"Yes," Sally agreed, her freckled face becoming deadly sober. "I'll always be grateful to you. What Mr. Gandiss said in his office upset me.

I wasn't thinking of my work."

"I thought that might be it. Well, forget the entire matter if you can."

Sally nodded and getting up, drank at the fountain. "I'll have to go back to work now," she said with an effort. "First, I'll get myself a clean hanky."

With a key which she wore on a string about her neck, the girl opened her locker. On the floor lay a leather jacket that had fallen from its hook.

As Sally picked it up, a heavy object slipped from one of the pockets, thudding against the tin of the locker floor.

She stooped quickly to retrieve it, and then, embarra.s.sed, tried to s.h.i.+eld the article from view. But she could not hide it from Penny who stood directly behind. The object that had fallen from the jacket was a small coupling of bra.s.s!

CHAPTER 8 _OVERHEARD IN THE GATEHOUSE_

"Why, where did that come from?" Sally murmured as she fingered the piece of metal. "I never put it in my locker."