Mr. Penton stepped over, after giving his orders, and looked keenly down into the pale face before him.
"What!" he exclaimed, bending close to the injured boy. "Good heavens, it's Steve Rush! This is too bad. How did it happen?"
"I don't know, sir. The first I knew about it he came out of the hopper kerflop. I jumped up to dig him out, and then I went kerflop with a load of ore on my back. Woof! It's lucky for me the car was full or I'd have been at the bottom of the heap."
Mr. Penton had picked Steve up in his arms. The burden seemed as nothing to this powerful man. And even when he reached the ladder leading down to the ground the superintendent appeared to experience no difficulty in making his way down with the heavy load he was carrying.
Steve was rushed to the hospital, followed by the superintendent himself. The lad was still unconscious. A hasty examination by the surgeon was made in the presence of the superintendent.
"Well?" Mr. Penton threw a world of meaning into the word.
"No bones are broken. There may be some internal injury. I should judge there might be, from the fact that he is bleeding at the mouth. What happened?"
"He was thrown up by the skip. That's all I know about it now. I want to know whether or not the boy is going to die. Then I will find out how it happened."
After working over the unconscious boy for half an hour, the surgeon decided that there had been a severe concussion that might amount to a fracture. A few hours, he said, would tell the story.
"I'll be back within the hour. Let no efforts be spared to straighten the lad out, if it be possible."