This smith saw the young man on the narrow board holding the
wooden keg in his arms. He knew that another bolt was needed.
The bolt, white-hot, was seized with a pair of tongs, thrown
violently through the air, sending off a shower of white sparks
as it went.
As the white bolt shot toward the metal worker, he held out the
wooden keg in a matter-of-fact way, caught the bolt, picked it
out of the keg with a pair of pincers, and soon the heavy sledge-
hammer was at work driving the metal, still white-hot, into the
hole. ----
Passengers who make their living in a less exciting way watched
with great excitement as one after another of these heavy red-hot
bolts came flying through the air, each in its turn caught by the
mechanic standing on the narrow board.
If the bolt had struck or burned him, he must almost inevitably
have fallen. He must have fallen had he made a misstep reaching
out the wooden keg to catch the flying iron.
Among those who watched him were very prosperous men come in from
the seaside on the flying express, bound for Wall Street. These
men were sorry when their boat pulled out, so deeply interested
were they in the skill and courage of the mechanics working so
high up on so narrow a footing.
If their opinion had been asked then and there they would have
said that no reasonable rate of pay would be too high for such
mechanics, and that eight hours of work catching red-hot bolts
and driving them home, on a narrow plank sixty feet in the air,
ought to be considered a fair day's work.
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