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Show THE TEMPERING Chapter One. Firing At a quarter past six, Karl Kerner walked the short distance down Pine Alley to the top of Center Street, whistling 'Yankee Doodle Dandy,' a song that had been in his head since he woke up. The sky was smoky in the gray dawn; orange flame from the blast furnaces at the bottom of Center Street glowed on each paving brick. Normally the hill would have been filled with men streaming to the mill's day shift, but only blast furnace men had to report on the Fourth of July, and they'd begun work at six. Center Street's steepness had been indented by four dips, level places where teamsters could rest their horses on the long climb up. The street looked like a tilted five-tier cake. In the pale light, Karl noticed a figure on the dip beneath him. Even from the back, there could be no mistaking the brawny body, the snappy walk. Karl broke into a run and called, "Hey, Jame! Wait up." His work shoes clattered on the paving bricks. Swinging his new dinner pail so Jame Culley could see it, Karl shouted, "I'm starting work in the mill today." "Yeah? Which mill?" "Firth Sterling -- eight-inch rolling mill." "Say! That's the same as me," Jame answered. "I know. That's how I got the job, because I remembered about you. First I tried at the Canaan Works employment office, but they |