Steve found his new occupation far from an improvement over what he had begun with. His first effort to scoop cinders and slag from the yellow stream resulted in his losing his eyebrows, much of the hair on his head and nearly all the clothing he had on.
Had it not been for the quick action of the man with the hose he would not have had a stitch of clothing left on him, and perhaps very little skin-covering either.
"Dip and jump!" shouted the melter. "What are you trying to do?"
"Principally jumping, only I didn't jump quite quickly enough," laughed Steve, the tears running from his smarting eyes. He bathed them liberally in cold water, after which they felt better.
The next dip was not much of an improvement over the first, except that there were fewer clothes to be burned and no eyebrows at all. Now, Rush was shouting for water, as had the others before him. Being a raw hand it was dashed over him by the pailful, in addition to the deluge he got from the hose in the hands of the hoseman.
The Iron Boy staggered away, gasping for breath. His head was a-whirl and he felt as though he were on fire.
"Water, water!" he gasped, settling down in a heap.
No one laughed. No one cared. They were used to such scenes of suffering, and the rough furnace men felt no compassion for the suffering boy. It was the water man's business to cool him off and no concern of theirs.
In a short time Rush recovered and went staggering to his work again. Once more he collapsed, and once more he was brought out of his partial faint by a pail of water and hose.