"This is wonderful," Steve cried, carried away by his enthusiasm. "This is the life for me! I never dreamed it was so splendid."
It was, indeed, a world pulsating with opportunities for him who possessed the pluck to fight his way to the front. In a vague sort of way, Steve Rush seemed to realize this.
"Some day I shall be at the head of one of these great industries!" he breathed. "I, too, will be a captain of industry! I'll never give up until I am—until I have learned all that can be learned about this wonderful industry."
The afternoon drew to a close all too soon for Steve, and not until the whistle blew at six o'clock and the miners in their oilskins came streaming up from their underground haunts, did the lad make up his mind to leave. With a sigh, he turned away, starting thoughtfully for the boarding house.
Just before sitting down to supper he was introduced to a Cornishman, who, he was told, was to be his roommate. When Steve had taken his place at the table he found himself sitting opposite a boy whom he judged to be about his own age. This boy, however, was taller and much more rugged looking than was Steve.
The latter saw the lad eyeing him inquiringly.
"What's your name, boy?" finally demanded the larger of the two, pointing a spoon at Steve.
"Stephen Rush."
"Rush?"
"Yes."