"I guess it is about time we looked up some one and found out whether we are headed for the Soo, or——"
"Or the North Pole," added Jarvis.
"Well, who are you?" demanded a gruff voice just behind the lads.
The Iron Boys wheeled sharply.
They found themselves facing a thick-set man, whose face, from exposure to wind and sunshine, was almost fiery red. He was surveying the boys from head to foot with a look of stern disapproval.
Steve and Bob, with their torn and soiled clothes, did present a most disreputable appearance. Their hair was unkempt and full of red ore, while their linen, white and clean when they left home on the previous day, now also partook of the color of the iron ore in which they had wallowed for several hours.
"May I ask who you are, sir?" questioned Steve politely.
"I am the captain of this ship, and, unless you answer my question pretty lively, I'll have you ironed and thrown into the hold."
"We have just come from there, sir," interrupted Bob.
"That is quite evident from your appearance. You are stowaways, eh?"