"If you can fix that pit so it will not burn the skin from our legs we will go to work."
"That's up to you."
"Then I will see what I can do. I hope the Honorable Mr. Watski Kalinski will keep away, even if he is our boss."
"Yes, he'd better keep his distance from me," growled Bob, who had been growing angrier as he gazed at the grinning pit boss.
Rush, after a quick glance at both the foreman and pit boss, began looking about for a plank. He found a piece of the required length after a time. This he threw into the pit, then climbed down on it. His shovel threw out a quantity of the hot cinders. Kalinski got them full in the face. It had been purely an accident on Steve's part, for the boss had changed his position in order to look over into the pit to see what his shoveler was doing.
The cinders burned Watski's face; they filled his eyes and filtered down inside his shirt. The boss danced a jig for the next minute or so, slapping his chest, pulling his shirt as far from him as he could and shrinking back to keep the hot stuff from burning holes through his skin.
"Whoop!" howled Bob Jarvis. "Now, how do you like it? Got a dose of your own hot stuff that time, didn't you? Good for you, Steve!"
Rush's face reddened.