The Iron Boys on the Ore Boats Part 9

Rush calmly brushed himself off, wiped the blood from his head and face amid the jeers of the stokers. Then he turned to the grinning Smith.

"Did you do that on purpose?" demanded the lad coolly.

"I reckon it was an accident, kid. What would you do if it wasn't?"

"I am not making any threats, but I hope it will not happen again."

"He did it on purpose," volunteered Bob.

"Never mind, Bob; keep out of this. Mr. Smith had a dizzy spell and he couldn't see where he was tossing the coal. He isn't wholly responsible for what he is doing."

Smith uttered a growl.

"You making sport of me?" he demanded, in a surly tone.

"Oh, no; I couldn't think of that, because I don't see anything funny about you. You are the most serious proposition I ever set eyes on."

Smith was not grinning now. His face had drawn down into harsh, menacing lines, his chin settling close to his chest, his eyes narrowing to mere slits. Rush was watching him as the boy carelessly tossed a shovel of coal into the furnace.

Smith drew a long breath, grabbed up his shovel and began firing once more. The critical stage had been pa.s.sed for the moment, but Rush knew that sooner or later there would be a clash of some sort, and he knew, too, that when it did come the tough stokers would side with their own companion.

Nothing more of a serious nature occurred in that watch, though the boys kept on the lookout for trouble.

It was in the early morning watch, however, when the ship's company was sleeping, all save those who were on watch at the time, that there came a renewal of the trouble--when the threatened disturbance came to a head.

The boys had arranged that when the back of either was turned to the stoker the other should keep his eyes open. This arrangement they had carried out faithfully until four o'clock in the morning arrived. Day was breaking, but the toilers down in the depths of the stoke hole could not see the coming of the day. They would not have noticed it had they been able to for the reasons that their minds were wholly absorbed with other matters.

Suddenly a second shower of coal rained over Steve Rush from the shovel of the man Smith.

Steve turned sharply, fixing his eyes on Jarvis. The latter nodded, meaning that Smith had thrown the coal deliberately.

"That's the time you did it on purpose, Mister man," said Steve in his usual calm voice.

"Well, supposing I did? What you going to do about it?"

"This!"

Whack!

The Iron Boy's fist smote the stoker a powerful blow in the face. Smith toppled over against the hot boiler. Rush saw at once that the fellow would be seriously burned. Leaping forward he dragged the man away, dropping him on the coal heap.

For the moment the stokers were so amazed at the exhibition of strength and skill on the part of Steve Rush that they could do no more than gape and gaze.

The knocked-out stoker struggled to his feet. His eyes were bloodshot and his face distorted with pa.s.sion.

"I would suggest that we put off our dispute until we have nothing else to do," suggested Steve. "You mustn't forget that we are on duty now, and the captain will discipline us if we have trouble here."

With a bellow of rage, Smith rushed his young antagonist. The blow that he got this time spun the fellow around, landing him on his face on the coal heap. The blow had reached him before his own fists were fairly up in position. Steve knew that what was to be done must be done quickly.

He loathed such fights, but he was among rough men. He had been among rough men ever since he had started out in the mines, and it was a case of fighting one's battles or going down with serious injuries, or perhaps worse. Experience had told him that the quicker such affairs were ended the better for all concerned, and that the man who landed the first effective blow was more than likely to win the fight.

Steve usually did land first.

Bob was dancing about with glowing eyes.

"Please somebody hit _me_!" he begged. "I've got to get into the row.

I've got to punch some of you wooden heads, or you'll never be satisfied; neither will I."

"Give them the coal. Bury them!" roared a voice.

Smith leaped to his feet, and stretching out a hand threw open a furnace door.

"I'll give the little fiend a toasting!" he howled.

"No, no--the coal!" protested the others.

The Iron Boys saw at once that matters had taken a more serious turn than they had looked for. The lads slowly backed up against a bulk head, their hands resting easily on their shovels.

"I would suggest that you men had better get to work," said Rush. "The steam will be going down in a minute or so, then you'll hear from the chief engineer."

He had hoped to call them back to their duty, and thus avoid what was before them.

"The coal, the coal!"

With one accord the stokers thrust their shovels into the coal pile.

Ten shovels of hard coal were hurled at the Iron Boys with unerring aim and at almost projectile speed.

"Down!" shouted Rush.

Both lads dropped to the floor of the fire room, the black chunks of coal pa.s.sing harmlessly over their heads.

"Let 'em have another! Throw low!"

The stokers sent the next black volley straight out from their hips, which should have reached the mark had the boys adopted their former tactics.

"Dodge between!" commanded Steve.

Jarvis obeyed instantly. In fact, in an emergency, he always looked to his companion for orders.

When they saw that their second attempt had failed the stokers uttered a yell of rage.

"Bat them over the head with your shovels!" advised one.

But Rush had antic.i.p.ated the suggestion. He was already leaping forward, his shovel cutting the air. He brought its flat side against the side of a stoker's head. The man toppled over, unconscious, and before the men could recover from their surprise two more of their number had fallen victims to the Iron Boy's shovel.

Bob had leaped into the fray by this time. He was swinging his own shovel, uttering a shout each time it came in contact with a head.

"Give ground, Bob!" shouted Rush. "I'll fix them. Just watch out that they don't land on you, or they'll cut your head off with those sharp-edged things."