"How are we going to do it?" demanded Bob, surveying the great structure apprehensively.
"I guess the only way will be to keep going until we get somewhere or fall off. I don't see the ship, but we shall see it when we get to the top of the trestle."
Both boys narrowly missed being run down by an ore train as it was shunted out on the trestle. The lads were in a dangerous place, but they did not feel at all disturbed about it. Men were flitting about in the dim light of half a dozen electric globes distributed along the top of the trestle that loomed all of seventy-five feet above the water.
"There's a ship down there," cried Steve.
"Yes, and there's one on the other side," answered Bob. "Why, there are ships at all of the docks along here. Are you sure we have hit the right dock?"
"I am not sure of anything, except that we are likely to break our necks if we don't look sharp," answered Rush, with a laugh. "We will ask the first man we meet where the 'Wanderer' is. There comes some one now."
Rush hailed the man, a foreigner. The latter neither answered nor paid the slightest attention to the question put to him.
"Thank you," murmured Rush.
"Mighty sociable lot of men up here," jeered Bob. "But then I suppose they have to keep their minds on their work or fall off the trestle. I prefer to work underground. In the mines, there's no danger of falling down."
Ore was being shot down through the chutes into boats on each side of the great trestle. There was the roar as of a great cataract as the red dirt went hurtling down into the hold of the ships many feet below.