"He was my partner. He was working on number eight when it blew up."
"Then you'll need a basket to gather him up," was the cheerful answer of the mill hand. "The last time a pit exploded here we lost twelve men. We found the pieces of them, but somehow we never were able to put them together. The pieces wouldn't fit, nohow."
Steve turned away. The lad's face was drawn and white, partly from the pain of his burns and partly from anxiety for Jarvis.
"Ignatz!" he called, observing the Pole darting across to the furnaces.
The lad halted sharply and glanced around to see who was calling him. He caught Steve's eye and hurried over.
"Have you found Jarvis?"
Brodsky shook his head.
"Mister Bob not here," he said.
"He must be," protested Steve.