With a bellow of rage, Smith rushed his young antagonist. The blow that he got this time spun the fellow around, landing him on his face on the coal heap. The blow had reached him before his own fists were fairly up in position. Steve knew that what was to be done must be done quickly. He loathed such fights, but he was among rough men. He had been among rough men ever since he had started out in the mines, and it was a case of fighting one's battles or going down with serious injuries, or perhaps worse. Experience had told him that the quicker such affairs were ended the better for all concerned, and that the man who landed the first effective blow was more than likely to win the fight.
Steve usually did land first.
Bob was dancing about with glowing eyes.
"Please somebody hit me!" he begged. "I've got to get into the row. I've got to punch some of you wooden heads, or you'll never be satisfied; neither will I."
"Give them the coal. Bury them!" roared a voice.
Smith leaped to his feet, and stretching out a hand threw open a furnace door.
"I'll give the little fiend a toasting!" he howled.
"No, no—the coal!" protested the others.
The Iron Boys saw at once that matters had taken a more serious turn than they had looked for. The lads slowly backed up against a bulk head, their hands resting easily on their shovels.
"I would suggest that you men had better get to work," said Rush. "The steam will be going down in a minute or so, then you'll hear from the chief engineer."