"Man thrown up on the skip, sir."
"Is he dead?"
"I can't say, sir. I think most likely he is."
"Who is it?"
"Don't know him, but he's a young 'un. He's pretty badly banged up, so far as I can see."
Superintendent Penton threw himself to the top of the ore car and assisted in getting the man out. At first he did not recognize the limp figure as being that of Steve Rush, for the red ore had been ground into the cut and bleeding face of the lad until he was almost unrecognizable.
"Send for the stretchers. This man must be gotten to the hospital on the jump!" shouted the superintendent.
The dump-man had lifted the boy from the car, had laid him down on the trestle and with his handkerchief was wiping the dark-red ore from the lad's mouth, eyes and nose.
"He's alive, sir," called Collins. "But I reckon he won't be for very long."