He turned Cavard over, looking into the man's pale face. Cavard was dazed, but Steve saw that he was not seriously hurt and would recover in a minute.
The boy's inclination was to hurry away. He conquered it. He was too much of a man to do a thing like that, so he stepped back a few paces, where he stood with folded arms waiting for his victim to recover.
This Cavard quickly did. He staggered to his feet unsteadily, still dazed and uncertain. All at once he fixed his eyes on the face of the Iron Boy.
"You—you whelp! You—you'll suffer for that cowardly blow. I'll—I'll hound you out of the camp, or else I'll——"
"Get run out yourself," finished Steve. "Good night."
With that the lad turned and walked briskly down the street. Cavard stood gazing after him for a moment, then started unsteadily for his own home. Could Steve Rush have seen the expression on the face of the walking delegate at that moment, he might possibly have thought better of his determination to remain in the mining town and fight his unequal battle.
The lad also had started for home, but he was destined to be still further delayed. His experiences for that night were not yet at an end. A heavy hand was all at once laid on his shoulder with a grip so powerful that the boy winced.
He whirled about, expecting to find himself face to face with Cavard, and ready to do battle.
Instead, Rush found a giant form towering over him, peering down into his face.
"Hello, Olsen; is that you?"