The Iron Boys as Foremen Part 13

This made Steve Rush all the more determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.

"I'd give a day's wages to know what that fellow, Cavard, has got in the back of his head. I'll bet it would be interesting reading, and I'm going to make it my business to find out. Something has been going on to-day, Bob."

"Yes; it is easy to see that. Have you any idea what this secrecy means?"

"Not the slightest in the world."

It was noticed that the red-haired stranger still lingered in town.

Steve learned that the man was in frequent communication with certain of the workers in the mine, spending all, or the greater part of his evenings at Cavard's lodgings on Iron Street.

One evening late in the week Rush walked down to the village hotel, where he occasionally went to read the Chicago papers that were kept on file there. He had seated himself at the long, paper-littered table in the deserted reading room and settled himself for a quiet time. He had been reading for some time when he suddenly heard his name spoken.

Glancing up quickly the Iron Boy found himself looking into the florid face of the red-haired man whom he had seen with the Duke.

"Good evening, sir," said Steve innocently, resuming his reading.

"I am glad to make your acquaintance, young man. I have heard all about your heroism at the time of the fire in the mine. It was a brave piece of work that you and your friend--let's see, what is his name?"

"You mean Bob Jarvis?"

"Yes, that's the name--that you two did."

"Thank you. Let's talk about the weather."

The stranger laughed heartily.

"I see you are a humorist. I expect you will be at the head of a mine yourself one of these fine days."

"I expect to be," answered the lad so quickly as fairly to take the other man's breath away. "That day is a long way off, however."

"Perhaps not so far off as you think. There is a way that men of your ability and mind may improve their conditions."

"May I ask what your business is, sir?"

"I am interested in mines. I am up here on mining business. By the way, I have some of the finest samples of ore that you ever saw."

"Indeed."

Steve was interested in spite of himself.

"Yes; I can show you samples that will interest you greatly. If you have a little time I wish you would come up to my room. We can talk to better advantage there than down here, and besides I can show you the samples without a crowd gathering about us."

"I do not know you, sir," answered the lad, with a half smile.

"My name is Driscold, Barney Driscold. I am from Chicago."

"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Driscold," said Rush, extending his hand.

"Under the circ.u.mstances I shall be glad to see the ore you speak of. I am always willing to look at anything that will add to my store of knowledge."

"I know that. Come with me. I am interested in young men like you. Where is your friend to-night?"

"He has gone to call on another friend."

Steve rose and started after Driscold. The latter did not pa.s.s through the lobby of the hotel, but made his way back through the parlor on the ground floor, opening a door that revealed a stairway leading to the floor above. Steve had never been upstairs in the hotel. He did not even know the arrangement of the rooms up there. He was a shrewd boy, and perhaps he was not so much attracted by the promised exhibition of ore as he was by the idea of learning something about Mr. Driscold.

The latter led him down a hall toward the front of the building, then entered a small, cosy parlor, which he had engaged for his use while in the mining town.

"Have a seat," said Driscold cordially, as he turned on the lights, then drew up a chair close to where Steve Rush had seated himself.

"I guess something is going to start in a short time," thought Steve.

"Where are the ore samples, sir?" he asked.

Driscold brought out a handful of specimens of copper ore that he had in his bag. These he laid on the little round table that stood at the side of his chair.

Steve picked up the samples. He saw at once that they were inferior samples, not worthy even of pa.s.sing consideration.

"Where do these samples come from, sir?" he asked, apparently deeply interested.

"From a new mine over in Michigan. I am interested in the mine and I thought you would be interested in the ore we take from it."

"Yes, sir."

"We have some ideal conditions in the mine. Our men are better paid and have shorter hours than you men have up here. You work ten hours here, while our men work only eight."

"Yes, sir."

"I presume that you would like to have shorter hours and get more money at the same time, would you not?"

"That depends," replied Rush evasively.

"Upon what?"

"Oh, it depends upon several things. In what way do you accomplish this in your new copper mine?"

"By organization purely."

"I don't think I quite understand."

"By organization I mean organizing the working men."

"Oh, you mean holding up one's employers; in other words, throttling them and compelling them to grant one's demands. Is that what you mean?"

demanded the lad with sharp incisiveness.

"Oh, no, no, no! You misunderstand me. We do nothing of the sort.

We----"

Driscold was interrupted by a rap on the door.