Olsen grabbed Steve by both shoulders, and, pushing him over to the light, peered long and earnestly into the eyes of the Iron Boy. Then the huge Icelander drew a deep breath that seemed to come from his boots.
"You no lie? You speak true? You give me work?"
"To-morrow morning. And I will do more than that. Cheer up, Mrs. Olsen. I am going away now, but I shall be back within an hour. You shall have a doctor, and you shall have something else. Olsen, you stay here until I return," commanded Rush sternly. "Mrs. Olsen, see to it that he remains in the house."
Steve was out of the place with a bound. He did not walk this time, but started away on a run. He knew where there was a doctor, not far away, and he made straight for the doctor's house.
"There is a sick child in one of the strikers' homes," said the lad, as the doctor opened the door. "I wish you would go and look after the child."
"One of the strikers?"
"Yes."
"Who is it?"
"Olsen—Segunder Olsen."
"Oh! Who will pay me for attending the case?"