"Taste of it?" exclaimed Steve. "Excuse me. I have come as near to it as I want to. I'm not a metal-taster."
Peel laughed.
"I don't mean to drink the stuff down, but tasting with your ears, eyes and nose; hearing, seeing and smelling—understand?"
"Yes; I catch your meaning."
"When you get to that point you may consider yourself a furnace man. But it is dangerous business. A man never knows when he's going to get his, and be dragged out in the wagon. We don't think of it, though. A fellow gets used to all sorts of dangers, and goodness knows these mills are full of them. When a fellow gets hurt, however, it's most likely his own fault. The company does all it can to protect its men."
"So I have observed. Some of its men are more dangerous than the perils of the mills themselves," answered Steve with a laugh.
"I reckon you are right at that. You're learning the whole business, ain't you?"
"I am trying to."
"Then you've bit off a full mouthful. Going to the open hearths from here?"