When they saw that their second attempt had failed the stokers uttered a yell of rage.
"Bat them over the head with your shovels!" advised one.
But Rush had anticipated the suggestion. He was already leaping forward, his shovel cutting the air. He brought its flat side against the side of a stoker's head. The man toppled over, unconscious, and before the men could recover from their surprise two more of their number had fallen victims to the Iron Boy's shovel.
Bob had leaped into the fray by this time. He was swinging his own shovel, uttering a shout each time it came in contact with a head.
"Give ground, Bob!" shouted Rush. "I'll fix them. Just watch out that they don't land on you, or they'll cut your head off with those sharp-edged things."
"I'll hold them! Come on, you black ruffians!"
Steve had sprung to one side of the fire room, where he began tugging at a wheel, from which he unrolled a long, dark object. One end of this he quickly connected to a four-inch pipe, turned a shut-off and sprang out into the middle of the fire room, carrying one end of the object in his hands.
"Quick! Back off, Bob!"
Bob did so. He saw at once what Rush intended to do.