"One moment," exclaimed Hal. "Why should I leave the foundry?"
"Ah, I thought you'd want to know," the manager answered. "The fact is we are now the servants of a hard-fisted fellow. The gentleman who advanced the money sold the mortgage, and the buyer has a very evil reputation. It is because of this that your father advises you to quit. Moses Steinkirk is the fellow who has bought us up, and I fear we shall all have an uncomfortable time of it. Now we'll go back to the casting-pit. That wheel's got to be finished."
Quitting the office, they struck across the yard and entered the shed, to find that the mold upon which Hal had been engaged was completed.
"All ready for the metal, sir," said the foreman.
"The top cover of Mr. Hal's wheel was slung on a few minutes ago, and it will be as good a job as we ever put out. What do yer say, sir?"
"I don't know that it will be as good as the castings usually turned out from here," Hal replied. "Still, I hope it will do us credit."
"That it will, sir. Joe finished it up when you and the guv' cleared off, and he said as it was the best he'd seen for many a day."
"Jack, boy, you can let her go," sang out the foreman at this moment.
"Right yer are," was the gruff answer. "Now then, all of yer, bring the bucket closer, and mind yer toes."
Grasping a long iron rod, he thrust it into the lump of clay which closed the orifice of the furnace, and which was by this baked almost as hard as stone. A second later a jet of white-hot fluid poured out with a gurgle, and, emitting showers of sparks, rushed in a broad stream into the bucket.