"Yes, sir."
The lad straightened up, touching his cap immediately.
"Will you step over here, please?"
Steve strode across the tracks.
"Jarvis, you, too."
"Yes, sir."
"How are you, Rush?" exclaimed President Carrhart, stepping forward and extending a cordial hand.
"How do you do, Mr. Carrhart. I am afraid my hand is not shakeable. It is grimy with red ore."
"We will shake all the same, lad."
They did so, the president holding to Steve's hand as he gazed keenly into the manly face of the boy, Steve returning his gaze, respectfully but steadily.