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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12734 ***
+
+The Young Engineers in Colorado
+
+or, At Railwood Building in Earnest
+
+By H. Irving Hancock
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTERS
+ I. The Cub Engineers Reach Camp
+ II. Bad Pete Becomes Worse
+ III. The Day of Real Work Dawns
+ IV. “Trying Out” the Gridley Boys
+ V. Tom Doesn’t Mind “Artillery”
+ VI. The Bite from the Bush
+ VII. What a Squaw Knew
+ VIII. ’Gene Black, Trouble-Maker
+ IX. “Doctored” Field Notes?
+ X. Things Begin to go Down Hill
+ XI. The Chief Totters from Command
+ XII. From Cub to Acting Chief
+ XIII. Black Turns Other Colors
+ XIV. Bad Pete Mixes in Some
+ XV. Black’s Plot Opens With a Bang
+ XVI. Shut Off from the World
+ XVII. The Real Attack Begins
+XVIII. When the Camp Grew Warm
+ XIX. Sheriff Grease Drops Dave
+ XX. Mr. Newnham Drops a Bomb
+ XXI. The Trap at the Finish
+ XXII. “Can Your Road Save Its Charter Now?”
+XXIII. Black’s Trump Card
+ XXIV. Conclusion
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE CUB ENGINEERS REACH CAMP
+
+
+“Look, Tom! There is a real westerner!” Harry Hazelton’s eyes
+sparkled, his whole manner was one of intense interest.
+
+“Eh?” queried Tom Reade, turning around from his distant view
+of a sharp, towering peak of the Rockies.
+
+“There’s the real thing in the way of a westerner,” Harry Hazelton
+insisted in a voice in which there was some awe.
+
+“I don’t believe he is,” retorted Tom skeptically.
+
+“You’re going to say, I suppose, that the man is just some freak
+escaped from the pages of a dime novel?” demanded Harry.
+
+“No; he looks more like a hostler on a leave of absence from a
+stranded Wild West show,” Tom replied slowly.
+
+There was plenty of time for them to inspect the stranger in question.
+Tom and Harry were seated on a mountain springboard wagon drawn
+by a pair of thin horses. Their driver, a boy of about eighteen,
+sat on a tiny make-believe seat almost over the traces. This
+youthful driver had been minding his own business so assiduously
+during the past three hours that Harry had voted him a sullen
+fellow. This however, the driver was not.
+
+“Where did that party ahead come from, driver?” murmured Tom,
+leaning forward. “Boston or Binghamton?”
+
+“You mean the party ahead at the bend of the trail?” asked the
+driver.
+
+“Yes; he’s the only stranger in sight.”
+
+“I guess he’s a westerner, all right,” answered the driver, after
+a moment or two spent in thought.
+
+“There! You see?” crowed Harry Hazelton triumphantly.
+
+“If that fellow’s a westerner, driver,” Tom persisted, “have you
+any idea how many days he has been west?”
+
+“He doesn’t belong to this state,” the youthful driver answered.
+“I think he comes from Montana. His name is Bad Pete.”
+
+“Pete?” mused Tom Reade aloud. “That’s short for Peter, I suppose;
+not a very interesting or romantic name. What’s the hind-leg
+of his name?”
+
+“Meaning his surnames” drawled the driver.
+
+“Yes; to be sure.”
+
+“I don’t know that he has any surname, friend,” the Colorado boy
+rejoined.
+
+“Why do they call him ‘Bad’?” asked Harry, with a thrill of pleasurable
+expectation.
+
+As the driver was slow in finding an answer, Tom Reade, after
+another look at the picturesque stranger, replied quizzically:
+
+“I reckon they call him bad because he’s counterfeit.”
+
+“There you go again,” remonstrated Harry Hazelton. “You’d better
+be careful, or Bad Pete will hear you.”
+
+“I hope he doesn’t,” smiled Tom. “I don’t want to change Bad
+Pete into Worse Pete.”
+
+There was little danger, however, that the picturesque-looking
+stranger would hear them. The axles and springs of the springboard
+wagon were making noise enough to keep their voices from reaching
+the ears of any human being more than a dozen feet away.
+
+Bad Pete was still about two hundred and fifty feet ahead, nor
+did he, as yet, give any sign whatever of having noted the vehicle.
+Instead, he was leaning against a boulder at the turn in the
+road. In his left hand he held a hand-rolled cigarette from which
+he took an occasional reflective puff as he looked straight ahead
+of him as though he were enjoying the scenery. The road---trail---ran
+close along the edge of a sloping precipice. Fully nine hundred
+feet below ran a thin line of silver, or so it appeared. In reality
+it was what was left of the Snake River now, in July, nearly dried
+out.
+
+Over beyond the gulch, for a mile or more, extended a rather flat,
+rock-strewn valley. Beyond that were the mountains, two peaks
+of which, even at this season, were white-capped with snow. On
+the trail, however, the full heat of summer prevailed.
+
+“This grand, massive scenery makes a human being feel small, doesn’t
+it?” asked Tom.
+
+Harry, however, had his eyes and all his thoughts turned toward
+the man whom they were nearing.
+
+“This---er---Bad Pete isn’t an---er---that is, a road agent, is
+he?” he asked apprehensively.
+
+“He may be, for all I know,” the driver answered. “At present
+he mostly hangs out around the S.B. & L. outfit.”
+
+“Why, that’s our outfits---the one we’re going to join, I mean,”
+cried Hazelton.
+
+“I hope Pete isn’t the cook, then,” remarked Tom fastidiously.
+“He doesn’t look as though he takes a very kindly interest in
+soap.”
+
+“Sh-h-h!” begged Harry. “I’ll tell you, he’ll hear you.”
+
+“See here,” Tom went on, this time addressing the driver, “you’ve
+told us that you don’t know just where to find the S.B. & L. field
+camp. If Mr. Peter Bad hangs out with the camp then he ought
+to be able to direct us.”
+
+“You can ask him, of course,” nodded the Colorado boy.
+
+Soon after the horses covered the distance needed to bring them
+close to the bend. Now the driver hauled in his team, and, blocking
+the forward wheels with a fragment of rock, began to give his
+attention to the harness.
+
+Bad Pete had consented to glance their way at last. He turned
+his head indolently, emitting a mouthful of smoke. As if by instinct
+his right hand dropped to the butt of a revolver swinging in a
+holster over his right hip.
+
+“I hope he isn’t bad tempered today!” shivered Harry under his
+breath.
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir,” galled Tom, “but can you tell us-----”
+
+“Who are ye looking at?” demanded Bad Pete, scowling.
+
+“At a polished man of the world, I’m sure,” replied Reade smilingly.
+“As I was saying, can you tell us just where we can find the
+S.B. & L.’s field camp of engineers?”
+
+“What d’ye want of the camp?” growled Pete, after taking another
+whiff from his cigarette.
+
+“Why, our reasons for wanting to find the camp are purely personal,”
+Tom continued.
+
+“Now, tenderfoot, don’t get fresh with me,” warned Pete sullenly.
+
+“I haven’t an idea of that sort in the world, sir,” Tom assured
+him. “Do you happen to know the hiding-place of the camp?”
+
+“What do you want of the camp?” insisted Pete.
+
+“Well, sir, since you’re so determined to protect the camp from
+questionable strangers,” Tom continued, “I don’t know that it
+will do any harm to inform you that we are two greenhorns---tenderfeet,
+I believe, is your more elegant word---who have been engaged to
+join the engineers’ crowd and break in at the business.”
+
+“Cub engineers, eh, tenderfoot?”
+
+“That’s the full size of our pretensions, sir,” Tom admitted.
+
+“Rich men’s sons, coming out to learn the ways of the Rookies?”
+questioned Bad Pete, showing his first sign of interest in them.
+
+“Not quite as bad as that,” Tom Reade urged. “We’re wholly respectable,
+sir. We have even had to work hard in order to raise money for
+our railway fare out to Colorado.”
+
+Bad Pete’s look of interest in them faded.
+
+“Huh!” he remarked. “Then you’re no good either why.”
+
+“That’s true, I’m afraid,” sighed Tom. “However, can you tell
+us the way to the camp?”
+
+From one pocket Bad Pete produced a cigarette paper and from another
+tobacco. Slowly he rolled and lighted a cigarette, in the meantime
+seeming hardly aware of the existence of the tenderfeet. At last,
+however, he turned to the Colorado boy and observed:
+
+“Pardner, I reckon you’d better drive on with these tenderfeet
+before I drop them over the cliff. They spoil the view. Ye know
+where Bandy’s Gulch is?”
+
+“Sure,” nodded the Colorado boy.
+
+“Ye’ll find the railroad outfit jest about a mile west o’ there,
+camped close to the main trail.”
+
+“I’m sure obliged to you,” nodded the Colorado boy, stepping up
+to his seat and gathering in the reins.
+
+“And so are we, sir,” added Tom politely.
+
+“Hold your blizzard in until I ask ye to talk,” retorted Bad Pete
+haughtily. “Drive on with your cheap baggage, pardner.”
+
+“Cheap baggage, are we?” mused Tom, when the wagon had left Bad
+Pete some two hundred feet to the rear. “My, but I feel properly
+humiliated!”
+
+“How many men has Bad Pete killed?” inquired Harry in an awed
+voice.
+
+“Don’t know as he ever killed any,” replied the Colorado boy,
+“but I’m not looking for trouble with any man that always carries
+a revolver at his belt and goes around looking for someone to
+give him an excuse to shoot. The pistol might go off, even by
+accident.”
+
+“Are there many like Mr. Peter Bad in these hills nowadays?” Tom
+inquired.
+
+“You’ll find the foothills back near Denver or Pueblo,” replied
+the Colorado youth coldly “You’re up in the mountains now.”
+
+“Well, are there many like Peter Bad in these mountains?” Tom
+amended.
+
+“Not many,” admitted their driver. “The old breed is passing.
+You see, in these days, we have the railroad, public schools,
+newspapers, the telegraph, electric light, courts and the other
+things that go with civilization.”
+
+“The old days of romance are going by,” sighed Harry Hazelton.
+
+“Do you call murder romantic?” Reade demanded. “Harry, you came
+west expecting to find the Colorado of the dime novels. Now we’ve
+traveled hundreds of miles across this state, and Mr. Bad wore
+the first revolver that we’ve seen since we crossed the state
+line. My private opinion is that Peter would be afraid to handle
+his pistol recklessly for fear it would go off.”
+
+“I wouldn’t bank on that,” advised the young driver, shaking his
+head.
+
+“But you don’t carry a revolver,” retorted Tom Reade.
+
+“Pop would wallop me, if I did,” grinned the Colorado boy. “But
+then, I don’t need firearms. I know enough to carry a civil tongue,
+and to be quiet when I ought to.”
+
+“I suppose people who don’t possess those virtues are the only
+people that have excuse for carrying a pistol around with their
+keys, loose change and toothbrushes,” affirmed Reade. “Harry,
+the longer you stay west the more people you’ll find who’ll tell
+you that toting a pistol is a silly, trouble-breeding habit.”
+
+They drove along for another hour before a clattering sounded
+behind them.
+
+“I believe it’s Bad Pete coming,” declared Harry, as he made out,
+a quarter of a mile behind them, the form of a man mounted on
+a small, wiry mustang.
+
+“Yep; it is,” nodded the Colorado boy, after a look back.
+
+The trail being wider here Bad Pete whirled by them with a swift
+drumming of his pony’s hoofs. In a few moments more he was out
+of sight.
+
+“Tom, you may have your doubts about that fellow,” Hazelton remarked,
+“but there’s one thing he can do---ride!”
+
+“Humph! Anyone can ride that knows enough to get into a saddle
+and stick there,” observed the Colorado boy dryly.
+
+Readers of the “_Grammar School Boys Series_” and of the “_High School
+Boys Series_”, have already recognized in Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton
+two famous schoolboy athletes.
+
+Back in old Gridley there had once been a schoolboy crowd of six,
+known as Dick & Co. Under the leadership of Dick Prescott, these
+boys had made their start in athletics in the Central Grammar
+School, winning no small amount of fame as junior schoolboy athletes.
+
+Then in their High School days Dick & Co. had gradually made
+themselves crack athletes. Baseball and football were their especial
+sports, and in these they had reached a degree of skill that had
+made many a college trainer anxious to obtain them.
+
+None of the six, however, had gone to college. Dick Prescott
+and Greg Holmes had secured appointments as cadets at the United
+States Military Academy, at West Point. Their adventures are
+told in the “_West Point Series_.” Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell,
+feeling the call to the Navy, had entered the United States Naval
+Academy at Annapolis. Their further doings are all described
+in the “_Annapolis Series_.”
+
+Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, however, had found that their aspirations
+pointed to the great constructive work that is done by the big-minded,
+resourceful American civil engineer of today. Bridge building,
+railroad building, the tunneling of mines---in a word, the building
+of any of the great works of industry possessed a huge fascination
+for them.
+
+Tom was good-natured and practical, Harry at times full of mischief
+and at others dreamy, but both longed with all their souls to
+place themselves some day in the front ranks among civil engineers.
+
+At high school they had given especial study to mathematics.
+At home they had studied engineering, through correspondence courses
+and otherwise. During more than the last year of their home life
+our two boys had worked much in the offices of a local civil engineer,
+and had spent part of their school vacations afield with him.
+
+Finally, after graduating from school both boys had gone to New
+York in order to look the world over. By dint of sheer push,
+three-quarters of which Tom had supplied, the boys had secured
+their first chance in the New York offices of the S.B. & L. Not
+much of a chance, to be sure, but it meant forty dollars a month
+and board in the field, with the added promise that, if they turned
+out to be “no good,” they would be promptly “bounced.”
+
+“If ‘bounced’ we are,” Tom remarked dryly, “we’ll have to walk
+home, for our money will just barely take us to Colorado.”
+
+So here they were, having come by rail to a town some distance
+west of Pueblo. From the last railway station they had been obliged
+to make thirty miles or more by wagon to the mountain field camp
+of the S.B. & L.
+
+Since daybreak they had been on the way, eating breakfast and
+lunch from the paper parcels that they had brought with them.
+
+“How much farther is the camp, now that you know the way.” Reade
+inquired an hour after Bad Pete had vanished on horseback.
+
+“There it is, right down there,” answered the Colorado youth,
+pointing with his whip as the raw-boned team hauled the wagon
+to the top of a rise in the trail.
+
+Of the trail to the left, surrounded by natural walls of rock,
+was an irregularly shaped field about three or four acres in extent.
+Here and there wisps of grass grew, but the ground, for the most
+part, was covered by splinters of rock or of sand ground from
+the same.
+
+At the farther end of the camp stood a small wooden building,
+with three tents near try. At a greater distance were several
+other tents. Three wagons stood at one side of the camp, though
+horses or mules for the same were not visible. Outside, near
+the door of one tent, stood a transit partially concealed by the
+enveloping rubber cover. Near another tent stood a plane table,
+used in field platting (drawing). Signs of life about the camp
+there were none, save for the presence of the newcomers.
+
+“I wonder if there’s anyone at home keeping house,” mused Tom
+Reade, as he jumped down from the wagon.
+
+“There’s only one wooden house in this town. That must be where
+the boss lives,” declared Harry.
+
+“Yes; that’s where the boss lives,” replied the Colorado youth,
+with a wry smile.
+
+“Let’s go over and see whether he has time to talk to us,” suggested
+Reade.
+
+“Just one minute, gentlemen,” interposed the driver. “Where do
+you want your kit boxes placed? Are you going to pay me now?”
+
+“Drop the kit boxes on the ground anywhere,” Tom answered. “We’re
+strong enough to carry ’em when we find where they belong.”
+
+“And---yes: we are going to pay you now. Eighteen dollars, isn’t it?”
+
+“Yes,” replied the young driver, with the brevity of the mountaineer.
+
+Tom and Harry went into their pockets, each producing nine dollars
+as his share of the fare. This was handed over to the Colorado
+youth.
+
+“’Bliged to you, gentlemen,” nodded the Colorado boy pocketing
+the money. “Anything more to say to me?”
+
+“Nothing remains to be said, except to thank you, and to wish
+you good luck on your way back,” said Reade.
+
+“I wish you luck here, too, gentlemen. Good day.”
+
+With that, the driver mounted his seat, turned the horses about
+and was off without once looking back.
+
+“Now let’s go over to the house and see the boss,” murmured Tom.
+
+Together the chums skirted the camp, going up to the wooden building.
+As the door was open, Tom, with a sense of good manners, approached
+from the side that he might not appear to be peeping in on the
+occupants of the building. Gaining the side of the doorway, with
+Harry just behind him, Reade knocked softly.
+
+“Quit yer kidding, whoever it is, and come in,” called a rough
+voice.
+
+Tom thereupon stepped inside. What he saw filled him with surprise.
+Around the room were three or four tables. There were many utensils
+hanging on the walls. There were two stoves, with a man bending
+over one of them and stirring something in a pot.
+
+“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Tom. “I thought I’d find Mr. Timothy
+Thurston, the chief engineer, here.”
+
+“Nope,” replied a stout, red-faced man of forty, in flannel shirt
+and khaki trousers. “Mr. Thurston never eats between meals, and
+when he does eat he’s served in his own mess tent. Whatcher want
+here, pardner?”
+
+“We’re under orders to report to him,” Tom answered politely.
+
+“New men in the chain gang?” asked the cook, swinging around to
+look at the newcomers.
+
+“Maybe,” Reade assented. “That will depend on the opinion that
+Mr. Thurston forms of us after he knows us a little while. I
+believe the man in New York said we were to be assistant engineers.”
+
+“There’s only one assistant engineer here,” announced the cook.
+“The other engineers are Just plain surveyors or levelers.”
+
+“Well, we won’t quarrel about titles,” Tom smilingly assured the
+cook. “Will you please tell us where Mr. Thurston is?”
+
+“He’s in his tent over yonder,” said the cook, pointing through
+the open doorway.
+
+“Shall we step over there and announce ourselves?” Tom inquired.
+
+“Why, ye could do it,” rejoined the red-faced cook, with a grin.
+“If Tim Thurston happens to be very busy he might use plain talk
+and tell you to git out of camp.”
+
+“Then do you mind telling us just how we should approach the chief
+engineer?”
+
+“Whatter yer names?”
+
+“Reade and Hazelton.”
+
+“Bob, trot over and tell Thurston there’s two fellows here, named
+Reade and Hazelnut. Ask him what he wants done with ’em.”
+
+The cook’s helper, who, so far, had not favored the new arrivals
+with a glance, now turned and looked them over. Then, with a
+nod, the helper stepped across the ground to the largest tent
+in camp. In a few moments he came back.
+
+“Mr. Thurston says to stay around and he’ll call you jest as soon
+as he’s through with what he’s doing,” announced Bob, who, dark,
+thin and anemic, was a decrepit-looking man of fifty years or
+thereabouts.
+
+“Ye can stand about in the open,” added the cook, pointing with
+his ladle. “There’s better air out there.”
+
+“Thank you,” answered Tom briskly, but politely. Once outside,
+and strolling slowly along, Reade confided to his chum:
+
+“Harry, you can see what big fellows we two youngsters are going
+to be in a Rocky Mountain railroad camp. We haven’t a blessed
+thing to do but play marbles until the chief can see us.”
+
+“I can spare the time, if the chief can,” laughed Harry. “Hello---look
+who’s here!”
+
+Bad Pete, now on foot, had turned into the camp from the farther
+side. Espying the boys he swaggered over toward them.
+
+“How do you do, sir?” nodded Tom.
+
+“Can’t you two tenderfeet mind your own business?” snarled Pete,
+halting and scowling angrily at them.
+
+“Now, I come to think of it,” admitted Tom, “it _was_ meddlesome
+on my part to ask after your health. I beg your pardon.”
+
+“Say, are you two tenderfeet trying to git fresh with me?” demanded
+Bad Pete, drawing himself up to his full height and gazing at
+them out of flashing eyes.
+
+Almost unconsciously Tom Reade drew himself up, showing hints
+of his athletic figure through the folds of his clothing.
+
+“No, Peter,” he said quietly. “In the first place, my friend
+hasn’t even opened his mouth. As for myself, when I _do_ try
+to get fresh with you, you won’t have to do any guessing. You’ll
+be sure of it.”
+
+Bad Pete took a step forward, dropping his right hand, as though
+unconsciously, to the butt of the revolver in the holster. He
+fixed his burning gaze savagely on the boy’s face as he muttered,
+in a low, ugly voice:
+
+“Tenderfoot, when I’m around after this you shut your mouth and
+keep it shut! You needn’t take the trouble to call me Peter again,
+either. My name is Bad Pete, and I am bad. I’m poison! Understand?
+Poison!”
+
+“Poison?” repeated Tom dryly, coolly. “No; I don’t believe I’d
+call you that. I think I’d call you a bluff---and let it go at
+that.”
+
+Bad Pete scowled angrily. Again his hand slid to the butt of
+his revolver, then with a muttered imprecation he turned and stalked
+away, calling back threateningly over his shoulder:
+
+“Remember, tenderfoot. Keep out of my way.”
+
+Behind the boys, halted a man who had just stepped into the camp
+over the natural stone wall. This man was a sun-browned, smooth-faced,
+pleasant-featured man of perhaps thirty-two or thirty-three years.
+Dressed in khaki trousers, with blue flannel shirt, sombrero
+and well-worn puttee leggings, he might have been mistaken for
+a soldier. Though his eyes were pleasant to look at, there was
+an expression of great shrewdness in them. The lines around his
+mouth bespoke the man’s firmness. He was about five-feet-eight
+in height, slim and had the general bearing of a strong man accustomed
+to hard work.
+
+“Boys,” he began in a low voice, whereat both Tom and Harry faced
+swiftly about, “you shouldn’t rile Bad Pete that way. He’s an
+ugly character, who carries all he knows of law in his holsters,
+and we’re a long way from the sheriff’s officers.”
+
+“Is he really bad?” asked Tom innocently.
+
+“Really bad?” laughed the man in khaki. “You’ll find out if you
+try to cross him. Are you visiting the camp?”
+
+“Reade! Hazelton!” called a voice brusquely from the big tent.
+
+“That’s Mr. Thurston calling us, I guess,” said Tom quickly.
+“We’ll have to excuse ourselves and go and report to him.”
+
+“Yes, that was Thurston,” nodded the slim man. “And I’m Blaisdell,
+the assistant engineer. I’ll go along with you.”
+
+Throwing aside the canvas flap, Mr. Blaisdell led the boys inside
+the big tent. At one end a portion of the tent was curtained
+off, and this was presumably the chief engineer’s bedroom. Near
+the centre of the tent was a flat table about six by ten feet.
+Just at present it held many drawings, all arranged in orderly
+piles. Not far from the big table was a smaller one on which
+a typewriting machine rested.
+
+The man who sat at the large table, and who wheeled about in a
+revolving chair as Tom and Harry entered, was perhaps forty-five
+years of age. His head was covered with a mass of bushy black
+hair. His face was as swarthy, in its clean-shaven condition,
+as though the owner had spent all of his life under a hot sun.
+His clothing like that of all the rest of the engineers in camp
+was of khaki, his shirt of blue flannel, with a long, flowing
+black tie.
+
+“Mr. Thurston,” announced the assistant engineer, “I have just
+encountered these young gentlemen, who state that they are under
+orders from the New York offices to report to you for employment.”
+
+Mr. Thurston looked both boys over in silence for a few seconds.
+His keen eyes appeared to take in everything that could possibly
+concern them. Then he rose, extending his hand, first to Reade,
+next to Hazelton.
+
+“From what technical school do you come?” inquired the engineer
+as he resumed his chair.
+
+“From none, sir,” Tom answered promptly “We didn’t have money
+enough for that sort of training.”
+
+Mr. Thurston raised his eyebrows in astonished inquiry.
+
+“Then why,” he asked, “did you come here? What made you think
+that you could break in as engineers?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+BAD PETE BECOMES WORSE
+
+
+Timothy Thurston’s gaze was curious, and his voice a trifle cold.
+Yet he did not by any means treat the boys with contempt. He
+appeared simply to wonder why these young men had traveled so
+far to take up his time.
+
+“We couldn’t afford to take a college course in engineering, sir,”
+Tom Reade continued, reddening slightly. “We have learned all
+that we possibly could in other ways, however.”
+
+“Do you expect me, young men, to detail an experienced engineer
+to move about with you as instructor until you learn enough to
+be of use to us?”
+
+“No, indeed, we don’t, sir,” Tom replied, and perhaps his voice
+was sharper than usual, though it rang with earnestness. “We
+believe, sir, that we are very fair engineers. We are willing
+to be tried out, sir, and to be rated exactly where you find that
+we belong. If necessary we’ll start in as helpers to the chainmen,
+and we have pride enough to walk back over the trail at any moment
+when you decide that we’re no good. We have traveled all the
+way from the east, and I trust, sir, that you’ll give us a fair
+chance to show if we know anything.”
+
+“It won’t take long to find that out,” replied Mr. Thurston gravely.
+“Of course you both understand that we are doing real engineering
+work and haven’t any time to instruct amateurs or be patient with
+them.”
+
+“We don’t want instruction, Mr. Thurston,” Hazelton broke in.
+“We want work, and when we get it we’ll do it.”
+
+“I hope your work will be as good as your assurance,” replied
+the chief engineer, with a slight twinkle in his eyes. “What
+can you do?”
+
+“We know how to do ordinary surveying, sir,” Tom replied quickly.
+“We can run our courses and supervise the chaining. We know
+how to bring in field notes that are of some use. We can do our
+work well within the limits of error allowed by the United States
+Government. We also consider ourselves competent at leveling.
+Give us the profile plan and the notes on an excavation, and we
+can superintend the laborers who have to make an excavation.
+We have a fair knowledge of ordinary road building. We have the
+strength of usual materials at our finger’s ends, and for beginners
+I think we may claim that we are very well up in mathematics.
+We have had some all-around experience. Here is a letter, sir,
+from Price & Conley, of Gridley, in whose offices we have done
+quite a bit of work.”
+
+Mr. Thurston took the letter courteously, though he did not
+immediately glance at it.
+
+“Country surveyors, these gentlemen, I suppose?” he asked, looking
+into Tom’s eyes.
+
+“Yes, sir,” nodded Reade, “though Mr. Price is also the engineer for
+our home county. Both Mr. Price and Mr. Conley paid us the
+compliment of saying that we were well fitted to work in a railway
+engineering camp.”
+
+“Well, we’ll try you out, until you either make good or convince
+us that you can’t,” agreed the chief engineer, without any show
+of enthusiasm. “You may show them where they are to live, Mr.
+Blaisdell, and where they are to mess. In the morning you can
+put these young men at some job or other.”
+
+The words sounded like a dismissal, but Blaisdell lingered a moment.
+
+“Mr. Thurston,” he smiled, “our young men ran, first thing, into
+Bad Pete.”
+
+“Yes?” inquired the chief. “Did Pete show these young men his
+fighting front?”
+
+Blaisdell repeated the dialogue that had taken place between Tom
+and Bad Pete.
+
+The chief listened to his assistant in silence. Tom flushed slightly
+under the penetrating glance Mr. Thurston cast upon him during
+the recital.
+
+When the assistant had finished, the chief merely remarked: “Blaisdell,
+I wish you could get rid of that fellow, Bad Pete. I don’t like
+to have him hanging about the camp. He’s an undesirable character,
+and I’m afraid that some of our men will have trouble with him.
+Can’t you get rid of him?”
+
+“I’ll do it if you say so, Mr. Thurston,” Blaisdell answered quietly.
+
+“How?” inquired his chief.
+
+“I’ll serve out firearms to five or six of the men, and the next
+time Pete shows his face we’ll cover him and march him miles away
+from camp.”
+
+“That wouldn’t do any good,” replied Mr. Thurston, with a shake
+of his head. “Pete would only come back, uglier than before,
+and he’d certainly shoot up some of our men.”
+
+“You asked me, a moment ago, Mr. Thurston, what I could do,” Tom
+broke in. “Give me a little time, and I’ll agree to rid the camp
+of Peter.”
+
+“How?” asked the chief abruptly. “Not with any gun-play! Pete
+would be too quick for you at anything of that sort.”
+
+“I don’t carry a pistol, and don’t wish to do so,” Tom retorted.
+“In my opinion only a coward carries a pistol.”
+
+“Then you think Bad Pete is a coward, young man?” returned the
+chief.
+
+“If driven into a corner I’m pretty sure he’d turn out to be one,
+sir,” Tom went on earnestly. “A coward is a man who’s afraid.
+If a fellow isn’t afraid of anything, then why does he have to
+carry firearms to protect himself?”
+
+“I don’t believe that would quite apply to Pete,” Mr. Thurston
+went on. “Pete doesn’t carry a revolver because he’s afraid of
+anything. He knows that many other men are afraid of pistols,
+and so he carries his firearms about in order that he may enjoy
+himself in playing bully.”
+
+“I can drive him out of camp,” Tom insisted. “All I’ll wait for
+will be your permission to go ahead.”
+
+“If you can do it without shooting,” replied the chief, “try your
+hand at it. Be careful, however, Reade. There are plenty of
+good natural lead mines in these mountains.”
+
+“Yes---sir?” asked Reade, looking puzzled.
+
+“Much as we’d like to see Pete permanently out of this camp, remember
+that we don’t want you to give the fellow any excuse for turning
+you into a lead mine.”
+
+“If Peter tries anything like that with me,” retorted Tom solemnly,
+“I shall be deeply offended.”
+
+“Very good. Take the young men along with you, Blaisdell. I’ll
+hear your report on them tomorrow night.”
+
+The assistant engineer took Tom and Harry over to a seven by nine
+tent.
+
+“You’ll bunk in here,” he explained, “and store your dunnage here.
+There are two folding cots in the tent, as you see. Don’t shake
+’em out until it’s time to turn in, and then you’ll have more
+room in your house. Now, come on over and I’ll show you the mess
+tent for the engineers.”
+
+This Blaisdell also showed them. There was nothing in the tent
+but a plain, long table, with folding legs, and a lot of camp
+chairs of the simplest kind.
+
+“What’s that tent, Mr. Blaisdell?” inquired Harry, pointing to
+the next one, as they came out of the engineers’ mess.
+
+“Mess tent for the chainmen and rod men laborers, etc.,” replied
+their guide. “Now, the fellows will be in soon, and supper will
+be on in half an hour. After you get your dunnage over to your
+tent amuse yourselves in any way that you care to. I’ll introduce
+you to the crowd at table.”
+
+Tom and Harry speedily had their scanty dunnage stored in their
+own tent. Then they sat down on campstools just outside the door.
+
+“Thurston didn’t seem extremely cordial, did he?” asked Hazelton
+solemnly.
+
+“Well, why should he be cordial?” Tom demanded. “What does he
+know about us? We’re trying to break in here and make a living,
+but how does he know that we’re not a pair of merely cheerful
+idiots?”
+
+“I’ve an idea that Mr. Thurston is always rather cool with his
+staff,” pursued Harry.
+
+“Do your work, old fellow, in an exceptionally fine way, and I
+guess you’ll find that he can thaw out. Mr. Thurston is probably
+just like other men who have to employ folks. When he finds that
+a man can really do the work that he’s paid to do I imagine that
+Thurston is well satisfied and not afraid to show it.”
+
+“What’s that noise?” demanded Harry, trying to peer around the
+corner of their tent without rising.
+
+“The field gang coming in, I think,” answered Tom.
+
+“Let’s get up, then, and have a look at our future mates,” suggested
+Harry Hazelton.
+
+“No; I don’t believe it would be a good plan,” said Tom. “We might
+be thought fresh if we betrayed too much curiosity before the
+crowd shows some curiosity about us.”
+
+“Reade!” sounded Blaisdell’s voice, five minutes later. “Bring
+your friend over and inspect this choice lot of criminals.”
+
+Tom rose eagerly, followed by Harry. As they left the tent and
+hurried outside they beheld two rows of men, each before a long
+bench on which stood agate wash basins. The toilet preceding
+the evening meal was on.
+
+“Gentlemen,” announced Mr. Blaisdell, as the two chums drew near, “I
+present two new candidates for fame. One is named Reade, the other
+Hazelton. Take them to your hearts, but don’t, at first, teach them all
+the wickedness you know. Reade, this is Jack Rutter, the spotted hyena
+of the camp. If he ever gets in your way just push him over a cliff.”
+
+A pleasant-faced young man in khaki hastily dried his face and
+hands on a towel, then smilingly held out his right hand.
+
+“Glad to know you, Reade,” he laughed. “Hope you’ll like us and
+decide to stay.”
+
+“Hazelton,” continued the announcer, “shake hands with Slim Morris,
+whether he’ll let you or not. And here’s Matt Rice. We usually
+call him ‘Mister’ Rice, for he’s extremely talented. He knows
+how to play the banjo.”
+
+The assistant engineer then turned away, while one young man,
+at the farther end of the long wash bench stood unpresented.
+
+“Oh, on second thoughts,” continued Blaisdell, “I’ll introduce
+you to Joe Grant.”
+
+The last young man came forward.
+
+“Joe used to be a good fellow---once,” added the assistant engineer.
+“In these days, however, you want to keep your dunnage boxes
+locked. Joe’s specialty is stealing fancy ties---neckties, I
+mean.”
+
+Joe laughed good-humoredly as he shook hands, adding:
+
+“We’ll tell you all about Blaisdell himself, boys, one of these
+days, but not now. It’s too far from pay day, and old Blaze stands
+in too thickly with the chief.”
+
+“If you folks don’t come into supper soon,” growled the voice
+of the cook, Jake Wren, from the doorway of the engineer’s mess
+tent, “I’ll eat your grub myself.”
+
+“He’d do it, too,” groaned Slim Morris, a young man who nevertheless
+weighed more than two hundred pounds. “Blaze, won’t you take
+us inside and put us in our high chairs?”
+
+There was infinite good humor in this small force of field engineers.
+As was afterwards learned, all of them were graduates either
+of colleges or of scientific schools but not one of them affected
+any superiority over the young newcomers.
+
+Just as the party had seated themselves there was a step outside,
+and Bad Pete stalked in looking decidedly sulky.
+
+“Evening,” he grunted, and helped himself to a seat at the table.
+
+“Reade and Hazelton, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Pete,
+I believe?” asked Blaisdell, without the trace of a smile.
+
+“Huh!” growled Pete, not looking up, for the first supply of food
+was on the table.
+
+“We’ve had the pleasure, twice today, of meeting Mr. Peter,” replied
+Tom, with equal gravity.
+
+“See here, tenderfoot,” scowled Bad Pete, looking up from his
+plate, “don’t you call me ‘Peter’ again. Savvy?”
+
+“We don’t know your other name, sir,” rejoined Tom, eyeing the
+bad man with every outward sign of courtesy.
+
+“I’m just plain Pete. Savvy that?
+
+“Certainly, Plain Pete,” Reade nodded.
+
+Pete dropped his soup spoon with a clatter letting his right hand
+fall to the holster.
+
+“Be quiet, Pete,” warned Blaisdell, his eyes shooting a cold glance
+at the angry man. “Reade is a newcomer, not used to our ways
+yet. Remember that this is a gentleman’s club.”
+
+“Then let him get out,” warned Pete blackly.
+
+“He belongs here by right, Pete, and you’re a guest. Of course we
+enjoy having you here with us, but, if you don’t care to take us
+as you find us, the fellows in the chainmen’s mess will be glad to
+have you join them.”
+
+“That tenderfoot is only a boy,” growled Pete. “If he can’t hold
+his tongue when men are around, then I’ll teach him how.”
+
+“Reade hasn’t done anything to offend you,” returned Blaisdell,
+half sternly, half goodhumoredly. “You let him alone, and he’ll
+let you alone. I’m sure of that.”
+
+“Blaisdell, if you don’t see that I’m treated right in this mess,
+I’ll teach you something, too,” flared Bad Pete.
+
+“Threatening the president of the mess is a breach of courtesy
+on the part of any guest who attempts it,” spoke Blaisdell again.
+“Gentlemen, what is your pleasure?”
+
+“I move,” suggested Slim Morris quietly, “that Pete be considered
+no longer a member or guest of this mess.”
+
+“Second the motion,” cried Rutter, Rice and Grant together.
+
+“The motion appears to have been carried, without the necessity
+for putting it,” declared Mr. Blaisdell. “Pete, you have heard
+the pleasure of the mess.”
+
+“Huh!” scowled Bad Pete, picking up his soup plate and draining it.
+
+Jake Wren, at this moment, entered with a big platter of roast
+beef, Bob, the helper, following with dishes of vegetables. Then
+Bob came in with plates, which he placed before Blaisdell. The
+latter counted the plates, finding eight.
+
+“We shan’t need this plate, Bob,” declared Blaisdell evenly, handing
+it back. Then he began to carve.
+
+“Put that plate back with the rest, Bob, you pop-eyed coyote,”
+ordered Bad Pete.
+
+Bob, looking uneasy, started to do so, but Blaisdell waved him
+away. At that instant Jake Wren came back into the tent.
+
+“For the present, Jake,” went on the assistant engineer, “serve
+only for seven in this tent. Pete is leaving us.”
+
+“Do you mean-----” flared Pete, leaping to his feet and striding
+toward the engineer.
+
+“I mean,” responded Blaisdell, without looking up, “that we hope
+the chainmen’s mess will take you on. But if they don’t like
+you, they don’t have to do so.”
+
+For ten seconds, while Pete stood glaring at Blaisdell, it looked
+as though the late guest would draw his revolver. Pete was swallowing
+hard, his face having turned lead color.
+
+“Won’t you oblige us by going at once, Pete?” inquired Blaisdell
+coolly.
+
+“Not until I’ve settled my score here,” snarled the fellow. “Not
+until I’ve evened up with you, you-----”
+
+At the same time Pete reached for his revolver in evident earnest.
+Both his words and his movement were nipped short.
+
+Morris and Rice were the only men in the engineers’ party who
+carried revolvers. They carried weapons, in the day time, for
+protection against a very real foe, the Rocky Mountain rattlesnakes,
+which infested the territory through which the engineers were
+then working.
+
+Both these engineers reached swiftly for their weapons.
+
+Before they could produce them, however, or ore Pete could finish
+what he was saying, Tom Reade leaped up from his campstool, closing
+in behind the bad man.
+
+“Ow-ow! Ouch!” yelled Pete. “Let go, you painted coyote.”
+
+“Walk right out of the tent, and I shall rejoice to let you depart,”
+responded Tom steadily.
+
+Standing behind the fellow, he had, with his strong, wiry fingers,
+gripped Pete hard right over the biceps muscle of each arm. Like
+many another of his type Pete had developed no great amount of
+bodily strength. Though he struggled furiously, he was unable
+to wrench himself free from this youth who had trained hard in
+football training squads.
+
+“Step outside and cool off, Peter,” advised Tom, thrusting the
+bad man through the doorway. “Have too much pride, man, to force
+yourself on people who don’t want your company.”
+
+Reade ran his foe outside a dozen feet, then released him, turning
+and reentering the tent.
+
+“No, you don’t! Put up your pistol,” sounded the warning voice
+of Cook Jake Wren outside. “You take a shot at that young feller,
+Pete, and I’ll never serve you another mouthful as long as I’m
+in the Rockies!”
+
+Bad Pete gazed fiercely toward the engineers’ tent, hesitated
+a moment, and then walked wrathfully away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE DAY OF REAL WORK DAWNS
+
+
+The meal was finished in peace after that. It was so hearty a
+meal that Tom and Harry, who had not yet acquired the keen edge
+of appetite that comes to hard workers in the Rockies, had finished
+long before any one else.
+
+“You fellers had better hurry up,” commanded Jake Wren finally.
+“It’ll soon be dark, and I’m not going to furnish candles.”
+
+As the cook was an autocrat in camp, the engineers meekly called
+for more pie and coffee, disposed of it and strolled out of the
+mess tent over to their own little village under canvas.
+
+“Bring over your banjo, Matt,” urged Joe. “Nothing like the merry
+old twang to make the new boys feel at home in our school.”
+
+Rice needed no further urging. As darkness came down a volume
+of song rang out.
+
+“What time do we turn out in the morning?” Tom asked, as Mr.
+Blaisdell brought over a camp stool and sat near them.
+
+“At five sharp,” responded the assistant engineer. “An hour later
+we hit the long trail in earnest. This isn’t an idling camp.”
+
+“I’m glad it isn’t,” Reade nodded.
+
+Then Blaisdell chatted with the boys, drawing out of them what
+they knew, or thought they knew, of civil engineering, especially
+as applied to railroad building.
+
+“I hope you lads are going to make good,” said Blaisdell earnestly.
+“We’re in something of a fix on this work at best, and we need
+even more than we have, of the very best hustling engineers that
+can be found.”
+
+“I am beginning to wonder,” said Tom, “how, when you have such
+need of men of long training, your New York office ever came to
+pick us out.”
+
+“Because,” replied the assistant candidly, “the New York office
+doesn’t know the difference between an engineer and a railroad
+tie. Tim Thurston has been making a long yell at the New York
+offices of the company for engineers. Knowing the little that
+they do, our New York owners take anyone who says he’s an engineer,
+and unload the stranger on us.”
+
+“I hope we prove up to the work,” sighed Harry.
+
+“We’re going to size up. We’ve got to, and that’s all there is
+to it,” retorted Tom. “We’ve been thrown in the water here, Harry,
+and we’ve got to swim---which means that we’re going to do so.
+Mr. Blaisdell,” turning to the assistant, “you needn’t worry
+as to whether we’re going to make good. We _shall_!”
+
+“I like your spirit, at any rate, and I’ve a notion that you’re
+going to win through,” remarked the assistant.
+
+“You try out a lot of men here, don’t you?” asked Harry.
+
+“A good many,” assented Blaisdell.
+
+“From what I heard at table,” Hazelton continued, “Mr. Thurston
+drops a good many of the new men after trying them.”
+
+“He doesn’t drop any man that he doesn’t have to drop,” returned
+Blaisdell. “Tim Thurston wants every competent man that he can
+get here. Let me see-----”
+
+Blaisdell did some silent counting on his fingers. Then he went
+on:
+
+“In the last eleven weeks, Thurston has dropped just sixteen new
+men.”
+
+“Whew!” gasped Harry, casting a sidelong glance at his shoes,
+with visions of a coming walk at least as far back as Denver or
+Pueblo.
+
+“Mr. Thurston isn’t going to drop us,” Tom declared. “Mr. Blaisdell,
+Hazelton and I are here and we’re going to hang on if we have
+to do it with our teeth. We’re going to know how to do what’s
+required of us if we have to stay up all night finding out. We’ve
+just got to make good, for we haven’t any money with which to
+get home or anywhere else. Besides, if we can’t make good here
+we’re not fit to be tried out anywhere else.”
+
+“We’re in an especially hard fix, you see,” the assistant engineer
+explained. “When we got our charter something less than two years
+ago we undertook to have every mile of track ballasted and laid
+on the S.B. & L., and trains running through, by September 30th
+of this year. There are three hundred and fifty-four miles of
+road in all. Now, in July, less than three months from the time,
+this camp is forty-nine miles from the terminus of the road at
+Loadstone, while the constructing engineers and the track-layers
+are thirty-eight miles behind us. Do you see the problem?”
+
+“You can get an extension of time, can’t you?” asked Tom.
+
+“We can---_not_! You see, boys, the S.B. & L. is the popular
+road. That is, it’s the one that the people of this state backed
+in the main. When we got our charter from the legislature there
+was a lot of opposition from the W.C. & A. railroad. That organization
+wishes to add to their road, using the very locations that our
+preliminary engineering force selected for the S.B. & L. The
+W.C. & A. folks have such a bewildering number of millions at
+their back that they would have won away from us, had they been
+an American crowd. The W.C. & A. has only American officers
+and a few small stockholders in this country. The W.C. & A.
+is a foreign crowd throughout in reality, and back of them they
+have about all the money that’s loose in London, Paris and Berlin.
+The W.C. & A. spent a lot of money at the state capital, I guess,
+for it was common report that some of the members of the legislature
+had sold out to the foreign crowd. So, though public clamor carried
+our charter through the legislature by sheer force, the best concession
+we could get was that our road must be built and in operation
+over the entire length by September 30th, or the state has the
+privilege of taking over our road at an appraised value. Do you
+see what that means?”
+
+“Does it mean that the state would then turn around and sell this
+road to the W.C. & A. at a good profit?” asked Reade.
+
+“You’ve hit it,” nodded Mr. Blaisdell. “The W.C. & A. would be
+delighted to take over our road at a price paid to the state that
+would give Colorado quite a few millions in profits. The legislature
+would then have a chance to spend those millions on public improvements
+in the state. I think you will understand why public clamor now
+seems to have swung about in favor of the W.C.& A.”
+
+“Yet it seems to me,” put in Harry, “that, even if the S.B. & L.
+does fail to get the railroad through in time, the stockholders
+will get their money back when the state takes the road over.”
+
+“That, one can never count on,” retorted Blaisdell, shaking his
+head. “The state courts would have charge of the appraising of
+the value of the road, and one can never tell just what courts
+will award. Ten chances to one the appraisal wouldn’t cover more
+than fifty per cent. of what the S.B. & L. has expended, and
+thus our company would be many millions of dollars out of pocket.
+Besides, if the courts could be depended upon to appraise this
+uncompleted road at twenty per cent. more than has been expended
+upon it, our company would still lose, for what the S.B. & L.
+really expects to do is to bag the big profits that can be made
+out of the section of the state that this road taps. Take it
+from me, boys, the officials of this road are crazy with anxiety
+to get the road through in time, and not lose the many millions
+that are waiting to be earned by the S.B. & L. getting this road
+through is all that Tim Thurston dreams of, by night or day.
+His reputation---and he has a big one in railroad building---is
+wholly at stake on his carrying this job through. It’ll be a
+big prize for all of us, professionally, if we can back Thurston’s
+fight to win.”
+
+“I’ll back it to win,” glowed Tom ardently “Mr. Blaisdell, I am
+well aware that I’m hardly more than the lens cap on a transit
+in this outfit, but I’m going to do every ounce of my individual
+share to see this road through and running on time, and I’ll carry
+as much of any other man’s burden as I can load onto my shoulders!”
+
+“Good!” chuckled Blaisdell, holding out his hand. “I see that
+you’re one of us, heart and soul, Reade. What have you to say,
+Hazelton?”
+
+“I always let Tom do my talking, because he can do it better,”
+smiled Harry. “At the same time, I’ve known Tom Reade for a good
+many years, and his performance is always as good as his promise.
+As for me, Mr. Blaisdell, I’ve just told you that Tom does my
+talking, but I back up all that he promises for me.”
+
+“Pinkitty-plank-plink!” twanged Matt Rice’s banjo, starting into
+another rollicking air.
+
+“I guess it’s taps, boys,” called Blaisdell in his low but resonant
+voice. “Look at the chief’s tent; he’s putting out his candles now.”
+
+A glance at the gradually darkening walls of the chief engineers
+big tent showed that this was the case.
+
+“We’ll all turn in,” nodded Blaisdell.
+
+So Tom and Harry hastened to their tent, where they unfolded their
+camp cots and set them up. There was not much bed-making. The
+body of the cot was of canvas, and required no mattress. From
+out of their baggage each took a small pillow and pair of blankets.
+At this altitude the night was already rather chilly, despite
+the fact that it was July.
+
+Rapidly undressing in the dark the young engineers crawled in
+between their blankets.
+
+“Well, at last,” murmured Harry, “we’re engineers in earnest.
+That is,” he added rather wistfully, “if we last.”
+
+“We’ve got to last,” replied Tom in a low voice, hardly above
+a whisper, “and we’re going to. Harry, we’ve left behind us the
+playtime of boyhood, and we’re beginning real life! But in that
+playtime we learned how to play real football. From now on we’ll
+apply all of the best and most strenuous rules of football to
+the big art of making a living and a reputation. Good night,
+old fellow! Dream of the folks back in Gridley. I’m going to.”
+
+“And of the chums at West Point and Annapolis,” gaped Hazelton.
+“God bless them!”
+
+That was not the only short prayer sent up, but within five minutes
+both youngsters had fallen sound asleep. The man who can sleep
+as they did, when the head touches the pillow, has many successes
+still ahead of him!
+
+Nor did they worry about not waking in season in the morning.
+Slim Morris had promised to see to it that they were awake on time.
+
+Slam! Bump! Tom Reade was positive he had not been asleep more
+than a minute when that rude interruption came. He awoke to find
+himself scrambling up from the ground.
+
+Tom had his eyes open in time to see Harry Hazelton hit the ground
+with force. Then Slim Morris retreated to the doorway of the tent.
+
+“Are you fellows going to sleep until pay days” Slim demanded jovially.
+
+Tom hustled into his clothes, reached the doorway of the tent
+and found the sun already well up in the skies.
+
+“The boys are sitting down to breakfast,” called Slim over his
+shoulder. “Want any?”
+
+“_Do_ I want any?” mocked Tom. He had laid out his khaki clothing
+the night before, and was now in it, save for his khaki jacket,
+which he caught up on his arm as he raced along toward the wash bench.
+
+Nor had he gone very far with the soap and water when Harry Hazelton
+was beside him.
+
+“Tom, Tom!” breathed Harry in ecstacy. “Do you blame people for
+loving the Rocky Mountains? This grand old mountain air is food
+and drink---almost.”
+
+“It may be for you. I want some of the real old camp chuck---plenty
+of it,” retorted Reade, drawing a pocket comb out and running it
+through his damp locks while he gazed into the foot-square camp mirror
+hanging from a tree.
+
+“May we come in?” inquired Tom, pausing in the doorway of the
+engineers’ mess tent.
+
+“Not if you’re in doubt about it,” replied Mr. Blaisdell, who
+was already eating with great relish. The boys slid into their
+seats, while Bob rapidly started things their way.
+
+How good it all tasted! Bacon and fried eggs, corn bread and
+potatoes, coffee and a big dish of that time-honored standby in
+engineers’ camp---baked beans. Then, just as Tom and Harry, despite
+their appetites, sat back filled, Bob appeared with a plate of
+flapjacks and a pitcher of molasses.
+
+“Ten minutes of six,” observed Mr. Blaisdell, consulting his watch
+as he finished. “Not much more time, gentlemen.”
+
+Tom and Harry followed the assistant engineer out into the open.
+
+“Can you tell us now, Mr. Blaisdell, what we’re to do today?”
+Reade inquired eagerly.
+
+“See those transits?” inquired Blaisdell, pointing to two of the
+telescoped and compassed instruments used by surveyors in running
+courses. “One for each of you. Take your choice. You’ll go
+out today under charge of Jack Rutter. Of course it will be a
+little bit slow to you the first two or three days, but between
+you, I hope to see you do more than Rutter could do alone. You’ll
+each have two chainmen. Rutter will give you blank form books
+for your field notes. He’ll work back and forth between the two
+of you, seeing that you each do your work right. Boys, don’t
+make any mistakes today, will you, So much depends, you know,
+upon the way you start in at a new job.”
+
+“We’ll do the best that’s in us,” breathed Tom ardently.
+
+“Engineer Rutter,” called Blaisdell, “your two assistants are
+ready. Get your two sets of chainmen and make a flying start.”
+
+Animated by the spirit of activity that pervaded the camp, Tom
+and Harry ran to select their instruments, while Rutter hastened
+after his chainmen.
+
+Bad Pete had not appeared at either mess this morning. He had
+small need to, for, in the still watches of the night, he had
+burglarized the cook’s stores so successfully that not even that
+argus-eyed individual had noticed the loss.
+
+Having breakfasted heartily in a deep thicket, Pete now looked
+down over the camp, his eyes twinkling in an evil way.
+
+“I’ll get bounced out of mess on account of two pasty-faced tenderfeet
+like those boys, will I?” Pete grumbled to himself. “Before
+this morning is over I reckon I’ll have all accounts squared
+with the tenderfeet!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+“TRYING OUT” THE GRIDLEY BOYS
+
+
+The chainmen picked up the transits, carrying also the chains
+and rods. Rutter led the way, Tom and Harry keeping on either
+side of him, except when the rough mountain trail narrowed. Then
+they were obliged to walk at his heels.
+
+“We are making this survey first,” Rutter explained, “and then
+the leveling over the same ground follows within a few days.
+Both the surveying and the leveling have to be done with great
+care. They must tally accurately, or the work will all go wrong,
+and the contractors would be thrown out so badly that they’d hardly
+know where they stood. A serious mistake in surveying or leveling
+at any point might throw the work down for some days. As you’ve
+already heard explained, any delay, now, is going to lose us our
+charter as sure as guns.”
+
+For more than a mile and a half the brisk walk continued. At
+last Rutter halted, pointing to a stake driven in the ground.
+
+“See the nail head in the top of the stake?” he inquired.
+
+“Yes,” Tom nodded.
+
+“You’ll find a similar nail head in every stake. The exact point
+of the plummet of your bog-line must centre on the middle of that
+nail head. You can’t be too exact about that, remember.”
+
+Turning to one of the chainmen, Rutter added:
+
+“Jansen, take a rod and hustle along to the next stake.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered the man, and started on a run. Nor did he
+pause until he had located the stake. Then he signaled back with
+his right hand. Tom Reade, in the meantime, had quickly set up
+his transit over the first stake on his part of the course. He
+did some rough shifting, at first, until the point of the plummet
+was exactly over the nail head. Then followed some careful adjusting
+of the instrument on its supports until two fine spirit levels
+showed that the compass of the instrument was exactly level.
+“Now, let me see you get your sight,” urged Rutter.
+
+Tom did so, coolly, manipulating his instrument as rapidly as
+he could with safety, yet not with speed enough to cause himself
+confusion or worry.
+
+“I’ve got a sight on the rod,” announced Reade, without emotion.
+
+“Are the cross-hairs, as you see them through the telescope, just
+on the mark?” Rutter demanded.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Let me have a look,” ordered Rutter. “A fine, close sight,” he
+assented, after taking a careful look through the telescope.
+“Now, take your reading.”
+
+This showed the course by the compass, and was expressed in degrees,
+minutes and seconds. The poor reading of a course is one of the
+frequent faults of new or careless engineers.
+
+“Here is a magnifier for the vernier,” continued Rutter, just
+after Tom had started to make his reading.
+
+“Thank you; I have a pretty good one of my own,” Tom answered,
+diving into one of his pockets and bringing to light a small but
+powerful reading glass with an aplanatic lens.
+
+“You carry a better magnifier than I do,” laughed Rutter. “Hazelton,
+do You carry a pocket glass?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” nodded Harry “I have one just like Reade’s.”
+
+“Good! I can see that you youngsters believe in good tools.”
+
+Tom in the meantime was busy with the vernier of his transit.
+This is an ingenious device for showing the smaller divisions
+into which the circles of the compass are divided. Tom quickly
+jotted down his field note in degrees, minutes and seconds. One
+chainman now held an end of a hundred-link chain at the nail head
+on the stake, while a second man started toward the rodman, unfolding
+the chain as he went.
+
+Tom remained over his transit. The traveling chainman frequently
+glanced back for directions from Reade whether or not he was off
+the course of a straight line to the next stake.
+
+Soon the chain-bearer was a little to the left of the line.
+
+Tom held a hand over the telescope of the transit, moving it very
+slowly to the right. The chain-bearer, glancing slowly back,
+stepped slowly to the right of the course until Tom’s hand fell
+abruptly. Then the chain-bearer stopped, knowing that he was
+on the right line. A metal stake, having a loop at the top from
+which fluttered a marker of red flannel, the man stuck upright
+in the ground. Tom took a peep, signaling so gently that the
+man moved the stake just half an inch before Reade’s hand again
+fell.
+
+“That stake is right; go ahead,” ordered Tom, but he said it not by
+word of mouth, but merely with a slight gesture of pushing forward.
+
+“You’ve been well trained, I’ll bet a hat,” smiled Butter. “I
+can tell that by the practiced way that you signal. O’Brien!”
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered another chainman, stepping forward.
+
+“Take Thane with you, and carry Mr. Hazelton’s transit to Grizzly
+Ledge. Mr. Hazelton and I will be there presently.”
+
+Two more chainmen started away.
+
+Now, both of Tom’s chainmen started forward, the rear one moving
+to the first metal stake that displayed the red marker. Tom still
+remained at the transit, motioning to the men whenever they got
+the least out of a true straight line to the rodman. It was not
+hard work for Reade at this point, but it required his closest
+attention.
+
+After some time had passed the chainmen had “chained” the whole
+distance between Tom’s stake and the rod resting on the next stake.
+Now the rodman, after making a close measurement, signaled back.
+Nine downward sweeps of his right arm signified nine chains;
+next the movements of his arm signaled the forty-four links of
+a tenth chain. Then seven movements of the left hand across in
+front of the eyes, and Reade knew that stood for seven-tenths
+of a link. Hence on the page of his field note book Tom wrote
+the distance between the stakes as nine chains and forty-four
+and seven-tenths links.
+
+“That’s good,” nodded Rutter, who had been watching every move
+closely. The forty-four signaled by the rodman’s left arm, instead
+of being made up of forty-four downward strokes, had consisted
+of four such strokes, followed by a pause, and then four more
+strokes.
+
+“I’ll go along and see you get the course and distance to the
+third rod,” said Rutter.
+
+This course and distance, too, in time, had been measured and
+carefully noted by Reade.
+
+“You’ll get along all right, if you pay strict attention and don’t
+become confused or careless,” nodded Jack Rutter. “Now, I’ll
+write ‘Reade’ on this starting stake of yours, and I’ll write
+Hazelton on your friend’s starting stake. After you’ve surveyed
+to Hazelton’s starting stake let your rodman bring you forward
+until you overhaul me.”
+
+“Very good, sir,” nodded Tom coolly.
+
+Rutter and Harry moved along the trail, leaving Tom with his own
+“gang.”
+
+“Nothing very mentally wearing in this job,” reflected Tom, when
+he found himself left to his own resources. “All a fellow has
+to do is to keep his head clear, be faithful and exactly honest
+with his work, and move with all the speed that good, straight
+work will allow.”
+
+So Reade moved ahead, getting courses and distances to five more
+stakes. Then, as he reached the sixth, he gazed ahead and smiled.
+A mountain pond lay right in his straight path to the seventh stake.
+
+“Can that pond be easily forded?” Reade asked the nearer chainman.
+
+“No, sir; it’s about ten feet deep in the centre.”
+
+Tom smiled grimly to himself.
+
+“Rutter didn’t say anything about this to me,” Tom muttered to
+himself. “He put this upon me, to see how I’d get over an obstacle
+like an unfordable pond. Well, it’s going to take a lot of time
+but I’ll show Mr. Jack Rutter!”
+
+Accordingly, Reade allowed his chainmen to proceed measuring until
+they were fairly close to the pond. Then he went forward to the
+metal stake that had just been driven. From this stake he laid
+out a new course to the north and at exact right angles with the
+proper course, sending his chainmen forward with markers. When
+he had thus passed the end of the pond Reade took another course
+at exactly right angles to the northerly course, but now going
+westerly. This he extended until it passed the pond by a few
+feet. Once more Reade laid out a course, southerly, at exact
+right angles with the westerly course, the southerly line being
+exactly four chains in length, as the northerly line had been.
+Now, the young engineer was able to resume his surveying toward
+the seventh stake. The extra route that he had followed made
+three sides of a square. Tom was now in line again, with the
+pond passed, and the exact distance between the sixth and seventh
+stakes.
+
+“I guess that was where Rutter was sure he’d have me,” chuckled
+Tom quietly. “He’s probe ably waiting ahead to see me come hot-footing
+over the trail to ask for orders.”
+
+At the tenth stake Tom found “Hazelton” written thereon.
+
+“Men,” said the young engineer, “I guess this is where we go forward
+and look for the crowd. Get up the stuff and we’ll trot along.”
+
+Nearly an hour of solid tramping over the trail followed before
+Tom and his party, guided by the rodman, came upon Harry Hazelton.
+Jack Rutter, chewing a blade of grass, sat under a tree at a
+little distance from where Harry was watching and signaling to
+two chainmen who were getting a distance.
+
+“Is your own work all done?” asked Rutter.
+
+“Yes, sir,” Tom answered.
+
+“Let me see your field notes.”
+
+Reade passed over the book containing them. From an inner pocket
+Rutter drew out his own field note book. Before another minute
+had passed Tom had opened his eyes very wide.
+
+“Your field notes are all straight, my boy. If you’ve made any
+errors, then I’ve made the same.”
+
+“You’ve already been over this work that we’ve been doing?” demanded
+Tom, feeling somewhat abashed.
+
+“Of course,” nodded the older and more experienced engineer.
+“You don’t for a moment suppose we’d trust you with original work
+until we had tried you out, do you? We have all the field notes
+for at least three miles more ahead of here. Hazelton!”
+
+“Coming,” said Harry, after jotting down his last observations
+and the distance.
+
+“Let me see your last notes, Hazelton,” directed Rutter. “Yes;
+your work is all right.”
+
+“What do you know about this, Harry?” laughingly demanded Reade.
+
+“I’ve suspected for the last two hours that Mr. Rutter was merely
+trying us out over surveyed courses,” laughed Harry.
+
+“If you don’t know how to do anything other than transit work,”
+Rutter declared, “the chief can use all your time at that. He’ll
+be pleased when I tell him that you’re at least as good surveyors
+as I am. And, Reade, I see from your notes that you knew how
+to measure across a pond that your chainmen couldn’t ford.”
+
+“Mr. Price taught me that trick, back in Gridley,” Tom responded.
+
+Suddenly Jack Rutter sprang to his feet sniffing vigorously.
+
+“Boys,” he announced, “an adventure is coming our way. Can you
+guess what it is?”
+
+Tom and Harry gazed at him blankly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+TOM DOESN’T MIND “ARTILLERY”
+
+
+“I give it up,” Reade replied.
+
+“Well, it’s dinner time,” declared Rutter, displaying the face
+of his watch.
+
+“Do we have to walk all the way back to camp?” queried Harry,
+who knew that no provisions had been brought with them.
+
+“No; camp is going to be brought to us,” smiled Rutter. “At least,
+a part of the camp will be brought here. Look up the trail there,
+at that highest rise. Do you see dust near there?”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Tom.
+
+“A burro pack-train, conveying our food and that of the other
+surveying parties ahead of us,” nodded Rutter. “You’ll find the
+cook’s helper, Bob, in charge of it.”
+
+“Is that the way the meals are brought out every day?” asked Hazelton.
+
+“No; but now we’re getting pretty far from camp, and it would
+waste a lot of our time to go back and forth. So our noon meals
+will come by burro route. Tomorrow or the day after the camp
+will be moved forward.”
+
+“How long before that train will be here?” Tom wanted to know.
+
+“Probably ten minutes,” guessed Rutter.
+
+“Then I’m going to see if I can’t find some little stream such
+as I’ve passed this morning,” Tom went on. “I want to wash before
+I’m introduced to clean food.”
+
+“I’ll go along presently,” nodded Harry to his chum. “There’s
+something about the spirit level on this transit of mine that
+I want to inspect.”
+
+So Tom Reade trudged off into the brush alone. After a few minutes
+he returned.
+
+“That burro outfit in sight?” he called, as he neared the trail.
+
+“No,” answered Rutter. “But it’s close. Once in a while I can
+hear a burro clicking his hoofs against stones.”
+
+Harry appeared two minutes later, just as the foremost burro,
+with Bob by its head, put in an appearance about fifty yards away.
+
+“All ready for you, Bob,” called Rutter good-humoredly.
+
+“You gentlemen of the engineer corps are always ready,” grunted
+the cook’s helper.
+
+A quick stop was made, Bob unloading tin plates, bowls and cups.
+
+“Soup!” cried Rutter in high glee. “This is fine living for buck
+engineers, Bob!”
+
+“There’s even dessert,” returned the cook’s helper gravely, exposing
+an entire apple pie.
+
+There was also meat, still fairly warm, as well as canned vegetables
+in addition to potatoes. A pot of hot coffee finished the repast
+that Bob unloaded at this point.
+
+“Everything but napkins!” chuckled Rutter, as he and the boys
+quickly “set table” on the ground.
+
+“No; something else is missing,” answered Tom gravely. “Bob forgot
+the finger-bowls.”
+
+The helper, beginning to feel that he was being “guyed,” took
+refuge in cold indifference.
+
+“Just stack the things up at this point when you’re through,” directed
+Bob. “I’ll pick ’em up when I come back on the trail.”
+
+Rutter, like a good chief, saw to it that his two assistants and
+the chainmen were started on their meal ere he himself began.
+In half an hour every morsel of food and the final drop of coffee
+had disappeared.
+
+“Twenty minutes to loaf,” advised Rutter, throwing himself on
+the ground and closing his eyes. “I’ll take a nap. You’d better
+follow my example.”
+
+“Then who’ll call us?” asked Tom.
+
+“I will,” gaped Rutter.
+
+“Without a clock to ring an alarm?”
+
+“Humph! Any real backwoods engineer can wake up in twenty minutes
+if he sets his mind on it,” retorted Jack.
+
+This was a fact, though it was the first that Tom or Harry had
+heard of it.
+
+“See the time?” called Rutter, holding out his watch. “Twenty
+minutes of one. I’ll call you at one o’clock---see if I don’t.”
+
+In that fine air, with all the warmth of the noon hour, there
+was no difficulty in going to sleep. Truth to tell, Tom and Harry
+had tramped so far that forenoon that they were decidedly tired.
+Within sixty seconds both “cubs” were sound asleep.
+
+“One o’clock!” called Rutter, sitting up and consulting his watch.
+“Fall to, slaves! There is a big batch of work awaiting us.
+Hazelton, you can go right on where you left off. Survey along
+carefully until you come upon a stake marked ‘Reade.’ Then come
+forward until you find us. Reade, I’ll go along with you and
+show you where to break in.”
+
+Preceded by their chainmen, Rutter and Reade trudged along the
+trail for something like a mile.
+
+“Halt,” ordered Jack Rutter. “Reade, write your autograph on that
+stake and begin.”
+
+Tom stepped over to the transit, adjusting it carefully and setting
+the hanging plummet on dead centre with the nail head in the top
+of the short stake.
+
+“Never set up a transit again,” directed Rutter, “without making
+sure that your levels are absolutely true, and that your vernier
+arrangement is in order.”
+
+“I don’t believe you’ll ever catch me at that, Mr. Rutter,” Tom
+answered, busying himself with the finer adjustments of the transit.
+“Mr. Price pounded that into me every time that he took me out
+in the field.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” went on Rutter, “I have known older engineers
+than you, Reade, who became careless, and their carelessness cost
+their employers a lot of wasted time and money. Now, you-----”
+
+At this juncture Jack Rutter suddenly crouched behind a low ledge
+at the right.
+
+“Get behind here, quickly, Reade!” called Rutter. “Bad Pete is
+up the hillside, about two hundred yards from you-----”
+
+“I haven’t time to bother with him, now,” Tom broke in composedly.
+
+“Duck fast, boy! Pete has an ugly grin on his face, and he’s
+reaching for his pistol. He’s got it out---he’s going to shoot!”
+whispered Rutter, drawing his head down where it would be safe
+from flying bullets.
+
+The chainmen, lounging nearby, had wasted no time in getting safely
+to cover.
+
+“Going to shoot, is he?” murmured Tom, without glancing away from
+the instrument. “Does Peter really know how to shoot,”
+
+“You’ll find out! Jump---like a flash, boy!”
+
+Tom went calmly on tinkering with the mechanism of his instrument.
+
+Bang! sounded up the trail. Tom’s fingers didn’t falter as he
+adjusted a small, brass screw.
+
+Bang! came the second shot. Tom betrayed no more annoyance than
+before. Bad Pete was aiming to drive bullets into the ground close
+to the young engineer’s feet, making him skip about. The sixth shot
+Pete was saving for clipping Reade’s hat from his head.
+
+The shots continued to ring out. Tom, though he appeared to be
+absorbed in his instrument, counted. When he had counted the
+sixth shot Reade dropped suddenly, picked up a stone that lay
+at his feet, and whirled about.
+
+Tom Reade hadn’t devoted years to ball-playing without knowing
+how to throw straight. The stone left his hand, arching upward,
+and flew straight toward Bad Pete, who had advanced steadily as
+he fired.
+
+Whiff! Though Pete tried, too late, to dodge the stone, it landed
+against his sombrero, carrying that away without injuring the
+owner.
+
+“Kindly clear out!” called Tom coolly. “You and your noise annoy me
+when I’m trying to do a big afternoon’s work.”
+
+Snatching up his sombrero, Bad Pete vanished into a clump of brush.
+
+Jack Rutter leaped up from his haven of safety, advancing swiftly
+to his cub assistant.
+
+“Reade,” he exclaimed, with ungrudging admiration, “you’re the
+coolest young fellow I ever met, without exception. But you’re
+foolhardy, boy. Bad Pete is a real shot. One of these days,
+when you’re just as cool, he’ll fill you full of lead!”
+
+“If he does?” retorted Tom, again bending over his transit, “and
+if I notice it, I’ll throw a bigger stone at him than I did that
+time, and it’ll land on him a few inches lower down.”
+
+“But, boy, don’t you understand that the days of David and Goliath
+are gone by,” remonstrated Rutter. “It’s true you’re turned the
+laugh on Pete, but that fellow won’t forgive you. He may open
+on you again within two minutes.”
+
+“I don’t believe he will,” replied Tom, with his quiet smile.
+“At the same time, I’ll be prepared for him.”
+
+Bending to the ground, and rummaging about a bit, Reade selected
+three stones that would throw well. These he dropped into one
+of his pockets.
+
+“Now, let the bad man trot himself on, if he has to,” added the
+cub engineer, waving a signal to the rodman, who had just halted
+at the next stake.
+
+“Well, of all the cool ones!” grunted Rutter, under his breath.
+“But, then, Reade’s a tenderfoot. He doesn’t understand just
+how dangerous a fellow like Pete can be.”
+
+The chainman started away to measure the distance. From up the
+hillside came sounds of smothered but very bad language.
+
+“There’s our friend Peter again,” Tom chuckled to Rutter.
+
+“Yes, and the ruffian may open on you again at any moment,” warned
+Jack, keeping an anxious glance turned in the direction whence
+came the disturbing voice of Bad Pete.
+
+“Oh, I don’t think he will,” drawled Tom, making a hand signal
+to the leading chainman to step a little more to the left. “I
+hope not, anyway, for the noise of revolver shots takes my thoughts
+away from my work.”
+
+Jack Rutter said no more after that, though through the rest of
+the afternoon he kept an alert lookout for signs of Pete. There
+were none, however. Rather earlier than usual, on account of
+the distance back to camp, Rutter knocked off work for the entire
+party and the start on the return to camp was made.
+
+Harry Hazelton was considerably excited when he heard the news
+of the firing on his chum. Reade, however, appeared to be but
+little interested in the subject.
+
+Pete was not in camp that evening.
+
+Rutter went at once to the tent of the chief, to tell him how
+well the “cubs” had done during the day. Nor did Jack forget
+to relate the encounter with Bad Pete.
+
+Just as the underlings of the staff were seating themselves around
+the table in their mess, Mr. Thurston thrust his head in at the
+doorway.
+
+“Reade,” called the chief engineer, “I have heard about your trouble
+with Pete today.”
+
+“There wasn’t any real trouble, sir,” Tom answered.
+
+“Fortunately for you, Reade, Pete didn’t intend to hit you. If
+he had meant to do so, he’d have done it. I’ve seen him shoot
+all the spots out of a ten of clubs. Don’t provoke the fellow,
+Reade, or he’ll shoot you full of fancy holes. Of course it showed
+both grit and coolness on your part in keeping steadily on with
+your work all the time the fellow was firing at you. Still, it
+was unwise to expose yourself needlessly to danger.”
+
+“I didn’t consider Bad Pete particularly dangerous,” Tom rejoined.
+
+“A lawless man with a loaded revolver is hardly a safe person
+to trifle with,” retorted Mr. Thurston dryly.
+
+“I see that I shall have to make a confession,” smiled Tom. “It
+was this way, sir. When Hazelton and I were on our way west Harry
+insisted that we were coming into a dangerous country and that
+we’d need firearms. So Harry bought two forty-five six-shooters
+and several boxes of cartridges, too. I was provoked when I heard
+about it, for we hadn’t any too much money, and Harry had bought
+the revolvers out of our joint treasury.”
+
+“I felt sure we’d need the pistols,” interrupted Hazelton. “Today’s
+affair shows that I was right. Tom, you’ll have to carry one
+of the revolvers after this.”
+
+“I’m no gun-packer,” retorted Tom scornfully. “Young men have
+no business carting firearms about unless they’re hunting or going
+to war. Any fellow who carries a pistol as he would a lead pencil
+is either a coward or a lunatic.”
+
+“I’m glad to hear you say that, Reade,” nodded Mr. Thurston approvingly.
+“Two of my staff carry pistols, but they do so under my orders.
+In the first place they’re grown men, not boys. In the second
+place, they’re working over a stretch of ground where rattlesnakes
+are thick. Your coolness today served you better than a pistol
+would have done. If you had had a revolver, and had drawn it,
+Pete would have drilled you through the head.”
+
+“Drilled me through the head---with what?” asked Tom, smiling.
+
+“With a bullet, of course, young man,” retorted Mr. Thurston.
+
+“I don’t believe he would have gone as far as that,” laughed Tom.
+“You see, sir, it was like this: When I found Harry so set on
+carrying a pistol, I went down deep in my own pocket and bought
+two boxes of blank cartridges to fit the forty-fives. I thought
+if Harry were going to do some shooting, it would be the part
+of friendship to fix him so that he could do it in safety to himself
+and others.”
+
+Harry’s face turned decidedly red. He was beginning to feel foolish.
+
+“Now, this morning,” Tom continued, “when I got the khaki out
+of my dunnage, I ran across the blanks. I don’t know what made
+me do it, but I dropped the box of blanks into one of my pockets.
+This noon, when I went off to find a stream where I could wash
+up, I almost stepped on our friend Peter, asleep under a bush.
+For greater comfort he had taken off his belt and holster. Somehow,
+I didn’t like the idea of his being there. As softly as I could
+I crept close. I emptied his revolver and fitted in blanks from
+my own box. Then I took about twenty cartridges out of Peter’s
+belt and replaced them with blanks.”
+
+“Do you mean to tell me,” broke in Rutter, “that Bad Pete, when
+he turned his revolver loose on you, was shooting nothing but
+blanks?”
+
+“That was all he had to shoot,” Tom returned coolly. “And blanks
+were all he had in his belt to reload with. Don’t you remember
+when we heard him making a noise up the hillside, and talking
+in dots and dashes!”
+
+“I do,” nodded Rutter, looking half dazed.
+
+“That,” grinned Reade, “was when he started in to reload? and
+discovered that he had nothing on hand but temperance cartridges.
+Here-----” Tom began to unload one of his pockets upon the wooden
+table before the astonished eyes of the others. There was a mixture
+of his own blank cartridges with the real ammunition that he had
+stealthily abstracted from Bad Pete’s revolver and belt.
+
+Such a whoop of glee ascended that the head chainman came running
+from the other nearby mess tent to see what was up.
+
+“Just a little joke among our youngsters, my man,” explained Mr.
+Thurston. “The young gentlemen are going to keep the joke to
+themselves for the present, though.”
+
+So the mystified and disappointed chainman returned to his own
+crowd.
+
+“Let me see, Reade,” continued Mr. Thurston, turning once more
+to Tom, “what is your salary?”
+
+“I was taken on, sir, at forty dollars a month, as a starter,”
+Tom replied.
+
+“A young man with your size of head is worth more than that to
+the company. We’ll call it fifty a month, Reade, and keep our
+eyes on you for signs of further improvement,” said the chief
+engineer, as he turned to go back to his own waiting dinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE BITE FROM THE BUSH
+
+
+From the time that they parted in the morning, until they started
+to go back to camp in the afternoon, Tom and Harry did not meet
+the next day. Each, with his chainmen, was served from Bob’s
+burro train at noon.
+
+“Did you see Bad Pete today?” was Harry’s greeting, as they Started
+back over the trail.
+
+“No.”
+
+“Did you hear from him or of him in any way?” pressed Hazelton.
+
+“Not a sign of any sort from Peter,” Tom went on. “I’ve a theory
+as to what’s keeping him away. He’s on a journey.”
+
+“Journey?”
+
+“Yes; between you and me, I believe that Peter has gone in search
+of someone who can sell him, or give him, a few forty-five cartridges.”
+
+“He’d better apply to you, then, Tom,” grinned Harry.
+
+“Why, I couldn’t sell him any,” Tom replied.
+
+“What did you do with those you had last night?”
+
+“You remember the unfordable pond that came in one of my courses
+yesterday?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“To-day I threw all of Peter’s .45’s into the middle of the pond.
+They must have sunk a foot into the mud by this time.”
+
+“Seriously, Tom, don’t you believe that you’d better take one
+of the revolvers that I bought and wear it on a belt?”
+
+“Not I,” retorted Reade. “Harry, I wish you could get that sort
+of foolishness out of your head. A revolver is of no possible
+use to a man who hasn’t any killing to do. I’m trying to learn
+to be a civil engineer, not a man-killer.”
+
+“Then I believe that Bad Pete will ‘get’ you one of these days,”
+sighed Hazelton.
+
+“Wait until he does,” smiled Tom. “Then you can have the fun
+of coming around and saying ‘I told you so.’”
+
+Their chainmen were ahead of the “cub” engineers on the trail.
+Tom and Harry were talking earnestly when they heard a pony’s
+hoofs behind them. Hazelton turned with a start.
+
+“Oh, it’s Rutter mounted,” Hazelton said, with a sigh of relief.
+“I was afraid it was Bad Pete.”
+
+“Take my word for it, Harry. Peter is a good deal of a coward.
+He won’t dare to show up until he has some real cartridges.
+The temperance kind do not give a man like Peter any real sense
+of security in the world.”
+
+Rutter rode along on his sure-footed mountain pony at a rapid
+jog. When he came close, Tom and Harry stepped aside into the
+brush to let him go by on the narrow trail.
+
+“Don’t get off into the brush that way,” yelled Rutter from the
+distance.
+
+“We’re trying to give you room,” Tom called.
+
+“I don’t need the room yet. I won’t run over you, anyway. Stand out
+of the brush, I tell you.”
+
+Tom good-humoredly obeyed, Harry moving, too, though starting
+an instant later.
+
+Prompt as he was, however, Tom Reade was a fraction of a second
+too late.
+
+Behind them there was a half-whirring, half-clicking sound.
+
+Then Reade felt a stinging sensation in his left leg three or
+four inches from the heel.
+
+“Look out!” yelled Rutter, more excitedly than before. “Get away
+from there!”
+
+Tom ran some distance down the trail. Then he halted, laughing.
+
+“I wonder what’s on Rut’s mind,” he smiled, as Hazelton joined
+him.
+
+Jack Rutter came at a gallop, reining up hard as he reached where
+Tom had stood.
+
+Again that whirring, clicking sound. Rutter’s pony reared.
+
+“Still, you brute!” commanded Rutter sternly. Then, without waiting
+to see whether his mount would stand alone, Rutter leaped from
+saddle, going forward with his quirt---a rawhide riding whip---uplifted.
+
+Into the brush from which Tom had stepped Rutter went cautiously,
+though he did not lose much time about it.
+
+Swish! swish! swish! sounded the quirt, as Rutter laid it on
+the ground ahead of him. Then he stepped out. The pony had drawn
+back thirty or forty feet and now stood trembling, nostrils distended.
+
+“Is that the way you take your exercise?” Reade demanded.
+
+Rutter, however, came running along the trail, his face white
+as though from worry.
+
+“Reade,” he demanded, “Did that thing strike you?”
+
+“What thing,” asked Tom in wonderment.
+
+“The rattler that I killed!”
+
+“Rattler?” gasped both cub engineers.
+
+“Yes. From the distance I thought I saw it strike out at you.
+There’s a nest of the reptiles at some point near that brush.
+That’s why I warned you to get away from there. Never stand
+in brush, in the Rockies, unless you’ve looked before stepping.
+Were you struck?”
+
+“I believe something did sting me,” Reade admitted, remembering
+that smarting sensation in his left leg.
+
+“Which leg was it? demanded Rutter, halting beside the cub.
+
+“Left---a little above the ankle,” replied Tom.
+
+“Take off your legging. I must have a look. Hazelton, call to
+one of your chainmen and send him back to make sure of my pony.”
+
+Harry hastened to obey, then came back breathless. Rutter, in
+the meantime, had turned up enough of Tom’s left trousers’ leg
+to bare a spot on the flesh that was red. There were fang marks
+in the centre of this reddened surface.
+
+“You got it, boy,” spoke Rutter huskily. “Now we’ll have to go
+to work like lightning to save you.”
+
+“How are you going to do it?” asked Tom coolly, though he felt
+decidedly queer over the startling news.
+
+“Hazelton,” demanded Rutter, turning upon the other cub engineer,
+“have you nerve enough to put your lips to that wound, and draw,
+draw draw as hard as you can, and keep on until you’ve drawn all
+the poison out?”
+
+“I have,” nodded Harry, sinking to his knees beside his chum.
+“I’ll draw all the poison out if I have to swallow enough to
+kill me.”
+
+“You won’t poison yourself, Hazelton,” replied Rutter quickly,
+as one of the chainmen came near with the recaptured pony. “Snake
+venom isn’t deadly in the stomach---only when it gets into the
+blood direct. There’s no danger unless you’ve a cut or a deep
+scratch in your mouth. Spit the stuff out as you draw.”
+
+Having given these directions, Jack Rutter turned, with the help
+of one of the chainmen to fasten a blanket behind the saddle to
+make a sort of extra saddle. The blanket had been lying rolled
+at the back of the saddle.
+
+Harry, in the meantime, without flinching, performed his task
+well. Had he but known it, Rutter’s explanation of the lack of
+danger was true; but in that moment, with his chum’s life at stake,
+Harry didn’t care a fig whether the explanation were true or not.
+All he thought of was saving Tom.
+
+“I reckon that part of the job has been done well,” nodded Rutter,
+turning back from the horse. “Now, Reade, I want you to mount
+behind me and hold on tightly, for we’re going to do some hard,
+swift riding. The sooner we get you to camp the surer you will
+be of coming out of this scrape all right.”
+
+“I’ve never had much experience in horsemanship, and I may out
+a sorry figure at it,” laughed Reade, as, with Harry’s help he
+got up behind Rutter.
+
+“Horsemanship doesn’t count---speed does,” replied Rutter tersely.
+“Hold on tightly, and we’ll make as good time as possible. I’m
+going to start now.”
+
+Away they went, at a hard gallop, Tom doing his best to hold on,
+but feeling like a jumping-jack.
+
+“It won’t take us more than twenty minutes,” promised Jack Rutter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+WHAT A SQUAW KNEW
+
+
+All the way to camp Rutter kept the pony at a hard gallop.
+
+“Thurston! Mr. Thurston!” he shouted. “Be quick, please!”
+
+Even as the young man called, Mr. Thurston ran out of his tent.
+
+“You know something about rattlesnake bites, I believe?” Rutter
+went on hurriedly, as Tom Reade slipped to the ground. “The boy
+has been bitten by one and we’ll have to work quickly.”
+
+“Don’t bring any liquor, though,” objected Reade, leaning up against
+a tree. “If liquor is your cure for snakebites I prefer to take
+my chances with the bite.”
+
+“Get the shoe off and roll up the trousers,” directed the chief
+engineer, without loss of words. “Fortunately, I believe we have
+someone here who knows more about treating the bites than I do.
+Squaw!”
+
+An Indian woman who had been sitting on the grass before the chief’s
+tent, a medley pack of Indian baskets arranged before her, glanced up.
+
+“Snake! You know what to do,” went on Mr. Thurston hurriedly. “You
+know what to do----eh? Pay you well.”
+
+At the last three magic words the aged squaw rose and hobbled quickly
+forward.
+
+“Take boy him tent,” directed the Indian woman.
+
+“I can walk,” remarked Tom.
+
+“No; they take you. Heap better,” commanded the woman.
+
+Instantly Mr. Thurston and Rutter took hold of Tom, raising him
+into their arms. Through the flap of his tent they bore him,
+depositing him on his cot. The Indian woman followed them inside.
+
+“Now you go out,” she ordered, with a sweep of her hand. “Send
+him cookman. Hot water---heap boil.”
+
+Thus ordered, Jake Wren came on the run with a kettle of boiling
+water. The Indian squaw received it with a grunt, ordering that
+bowls and cups be also brought. When Wren came the second time
+he lingered curiously.
+
+“You go out; no see what do,” said the squaw.
+
+So Jake departed, the squaw tying the flap of the tent after he
+had gone. Then, from the bosom of her dress she drew out a few
+small packages of herbs. The contents of these she distributed
+in different bowels and cups.
+
+“I’d like to see what the old witch is doing, and how she’s doing
+it,” declared Rutter in a whisper.
+
+“She’ll stop short if she catches you looking in on her,” replied
+the chief, with a smile. “For some reason these Indians are very
+jealous of their secrets in treating snakebites. They’re wizards,
+though, these same red-skinned savages.”
+
+“You believe, then, that she can pull Reade through?” asked Rutter
+eagerly.
+
+“If she knows her business, and if there’s any such thing as saving
+the boy she’ll do it,” declared Mr. Thurston, as they reached
+the door of the chief’s tent. “Will you come inside, Rutter!
+You look badly broken up.”
+
+“I am, and I shall be, just as long as Reade is in any danger,”
+Rutter admitted. “Reade is a mighty fine boy and I’m fond of
+him. Besides, more than a little of our success in getting the
+road through on time depends on the boy.”
+
+“Is Reade really so valuable, then?”
+
+“He goes over the course, Mr. Thurston, as rapidly as any man
+in our corps, and his work is very accurately done. Moreover,
+he never kicks. If you told him to work half the night, on top
+of a day’s work, he’d do it.”
+
+“Then Reade, if he recovers, must be watched and rewarded for
+anything he does for us,” murmured Mr. Thurston.
+
+“Don’t say, ‘if he recovers,’ chief,” begged Jack. “I hate to
+think of his not pulling through from this snakebite.”
+
+“What became of the reptile that did the trick?” asked Mr. Thurston.
+
+“That crawler will never bite anything else,” muttered Rutter.
+“I got the thing with my riding quirt.”
+
+Not very long after Harry Hazelton reached camp, well in advance
+of the chainmen, for Harry, good school athlete that he was, had
+jog-trotted every step of the way in.
+
+“Where’s Tom?” Hazelton demanded.
+
+“Here,” called a voice from Reade’s tent.
+
+Hazelton turned in that direction, but Mr. Thurston looked out
+from the large tent, calling:
+
+“Don’t go there now, Hazelton. You wouldn’t be admitted. Come here.”
+
+Despite his long run, Harry’s face displayed pallor as he came
+breathlessly into Mr. Thurston’s field abode. In a few words,
+however, the lad was acquainted with the situation as far as it
+had developed.
+
+In the meantime what was the squaw doing with Tom? It must be
+admitted that Reade hadn’t any too clear an idea. The gaunt old
+red woman poured hot water, small quantities at a time, into the
+bowls and cups in which she had distributed the herbs. Then she
+stirred vigorously, in the meantime muttering monotonously in
+her own language.
+
+“She isn’t relying on the herbs alone,” muttered Tom curiously
+to himself. “She’s working up some kind of incantation. I wonder
+what effect she expects an Indian song to have on snake poison?”
+
+Presently the squaw turned, bringing one of the cupfuls to the
+wounded boy.
+
+“Sit up,” she ordered. “Drink!”
+
+Tom nearly dropped it, it was so hot.
+
+“Drink!” repeated the squaw.
+
+“But it’s so hot it’ll burn my gullet out,” remonstrated Reade.
+
+“You know more I do?” demanded the squaw stolidly. “Drink!”
+
+Tom took a sip, and shuddered from the intense heat of the stuff.
+
+“Humph! White man him heap papoose!” muttered the squaw, scornfully.
+“You want live, drink!”
+
+Tom took a longer swallow of the hot stuff. Whew, but it was
+bitter!
+
+“The bronze lady is trying to turn me inside out!” gasped the
+boy to himself.
+
+“Drink---all down!” commanded the squaw with scarcely less scorn
+than before in her voice.
+
+This time Tom took a hard grip on himself and swallowed all the
+liquid. For a moment, he thought the nauseating stuff would kill him.
+
+“Now, eat grass,” ordered the squaw.
+
+“Meaning eat these herbs,” demanded Tom, glancing up.
+
+“Yes. Heap quick.”
+
+“To make a fellow eat these herbs after drinking the brew from
+them is what I call rubbing it in,” grimaced Reade.
+
+“Now, this,” continued the squaw, calmly handing a second cup
+to Tom.
+
+“It’s all right for _you_ to be calm,” thought Tom, as he took
+the cup from her. “All you have to do is to stand by and watch
+me. You don’t have to drink any of these fearful messes.”
+
+However, Tom brought all his will power into play, swallowing
+a second brew, compared with which the first had been delicious.
+
+“Eat this grass, too”? inquired Tom, gazing at the squaw.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Tom obeyed.
+
+“I shall be very, very careful not to meet any more snakes,” he
+shuddered, after getting the second dose down.
+
+Now the squaw busied herself with spreading soaked herbs on a
+piece of cloth that she had torn from one of Tom’s white shirts’
+to which she had helped herself from his dunnage box.
+
+“What’s a dollar shirt, anyway, when an interesting young man’s
+life is at stake” mused Reade. “Ow---ow---ooch!”
+
+“You baby---papoose?” inquired the squaw calmly. She had slapped
+on Tom’s leg, over the bite, a poultice that, to his excited mind,
+was four hundred degrees hotter than boiling water.
+
+“Oh, no,” grimaced Tom. “That’s fine and soothing. But it’s
+growing cool. Haven’t you something hotter?”
+
+Just five seconds later Reade regretted his rashness, for, snatching
+off the first poultice, the squaw slapped on a second that seemed,
+in some way, ten times more powerful---and twenty times hotter.
+
+“It’s queer what an awful amount of heat a squaw can get out of
+a kettle of hot water, thought the suffering boy. I’ll wager
+some of the heat is due to the herbs themselves. O-o-o-o-ow! Ouch!”
+
+For now the third poultice, most powerful of all, was in place,
+and Mrs. Squaw was binding it on as though she intended it never
+to come off.
+
+Two minutes after that Tom Reade commenced to retch violently.
+With a memory of the messes that he had swallowed he didn’t wonder.
+The squaw now stepped outside, calling for coffee. This was
+brought. Tom was obliged to drink several cupfuls, after which
+he began to feel decidedly more comfortable.
+
+“Now, take nap,” advised the squaw, and quitted the tent.
+
+“The bronze lady seems to know what she’s doing,” thought Tom.
+“I guess I’ll take the whole of her course of treatment.” Thereupon
+he turned his face to the wall. Within sixty seconds he slept.
+
+“How’s Reade?” demanded Harry, rising eagerly as the squaw stepped
+inside the chief’s tent.
+
+“He sleep,” muttered the squaw.
+
+“He---he---isn’t dead!” choked Harry, turning deathly pale.
+
+“You think I make death medicine?” demanded the squaw scornfully.
+“You think me heap fool?”
+
+“The young man will be all right, squaw?” asked Mr. Thurston.
+
+“Humph! Maybe,” grunted the red woman. “Yes, I think so. You
+know bimeby.”
+
+“That’s the Indian contempt for death,” explained the chief engineer,
+turning to Harry. “I imagine that Reade is doing all right, or
+she wouldn’t have left him.”
+
+However, Hazelton was not satisfied with that. He slipped out,
+crossed camp and stealthily peeped inside of the tent. Then
+Hazelton slipped back to Mr. Thurston to report.
+
+“If Tom doesn’t swallow some of those big snores of his, and choke
+to death, I think he’ll get well,” said Harry, with a laugh that
+testified to the great relief that had come to his feelings. With
+that all hands had to be content for the time being.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+’GENE BLACK, TROUBLE-MAKER
+
+
+In the morning Tom Reade declared that he was all right. The
+old Indian squaw had pronounced him safe, and had gone on her way.
+
+“You’ll stay in camp today, Reade,” announced Mr. Thurston, dropping
+into the mess tent.
+
+“With all the work there is ahead of us, sir?” cried Reade aghast.
+
+“That’s why you’ll stay,” nodded Mr Thurston. “Your life has
+been saved, but after the shock you had yesterday you’re not as
+strong as you may feel. One day of good rest in camp will fit
+you for what’s ahead of us in the days to come. The strain of
+tramping miles and working like a steam engine all day is not
+to be thought of for you today. Tomorrow you’ll go out with the
+rest.”
+
+Tom sighed. True, he did not feel up to the mark, and was eating
+a very light breakfast. Still he chafed at the thought of inaction
+for a whole day.
+
+“The chief wouldn’t order you to stay in,” remarked Blaisdell,
+after Mr. Thurston had gone, “unless he knew that to be the best
+thing for you.”
+
+So, after the engineers, their chainmen and rodmen had left camp
+Tom wandered about disconsolately. He tried to talk to the cook,
+but Jake and his helper were both rushed in getting the meal that
+was to be taken out over the trail by burro train.
+
+“Lonely, Reade?” called the chief from his tent.
+
+“Yes, sir,” Tom nodded. “I wish I had something to do.”
+
+“Perhaps I can find work for you in here. Come in.”
+
+Tom entered eagerly. Mr. Thurston was seated at the large table,
+a mass of maps and field notes before him.
+
+“How are you on drawing, Reade?” queried his chief.
+
+“Poor, sir.”
+
+“Never had any training in that line?”
+
+“I can draw the lines of a map, sir, and get it pretty straight,
+as far as the mathematics of map-drawing goes,” Tom answered.
+“But another man has to go over my work and put in the fine touches
+of the artist. You know what I mean, sir; the fancy fixings of
+a map.”
+
+“Yes, I know,” nodded Mr. Thurston. “I can sympathize with you, too,
+Reade, for, though I always longed to do artistic platting (map-work)
+I was always like yourself, and could do only the mathematical part of
+it. You can help me at that, however, if you are careful enough. Take a
+seat at that drawing table; and I’ll see what you can do.”
+
+First, Reade stepped to a box that held map paper. Taking out a sheet,
+he placed it on the surface of the drawing table, then stuck in
+thumb-tacks at each of the four corners.
+
+“All ready, sir,” he announced.
+
+Mr. Thurston stepped over with an engineer’s field note book.
+
+“See if these notes are all clear,” directed the chief engineer.
+
+“Yes, sir; I know what the notes call for,” Tom answered confidently.
+
+“Then I’ll show you just what’s wanted Reade,” continued the chief.
+
+After some minutes of explanation Tom picked up the T-square,
+placing the top at the side of the drawing surface. Then against
+the limb of the “T” Tom laid the base of a right-angled triangle.
+Along this edge he drew his perpendicular north-and-south line
+in the upper left-hand corner. He crossed this with a shorter
+line at right angles, establishing his east-and-west line. Mr.
+Thurston, standing at the cub engineer is back, looked on closely.
+
+Tom now settled on his beginning point, and made the dot with
+his pencil. From that point he worked rapidly, making all his
+measurements and dotting his points. Then he began to draw in.
+The chief engineer went back to his table.
+
+After Tom had worked an hour the chief interrupted him.
+
+“Now, Reade, get up and let me sit down there for a little while.
+I want to go over your work.”
+
+For some minutes Mr. Thurston checked off the lad’s work.
+
+“You really know what you are doing, Reade,” he said at last.
+“Your line measurements are right, and your angles tally faultlessly,
+I’m glad I kept you back today. You can help me here even more
+than in the field. Tomorrow, however, I shall have to keep Rice
+back. He’s our ornamental draughtsman, and puts in the fine,
+flowery work on our maps. Here’s some of his work.”
+
+Tom gazed intently at the sheet that Mr. Thurston spread for his
+inspection.
+
+“Rice does it well,” remarked Reade thoughtfully. “You’ve one
+other man in the corps who can do the pretty draughting about as well.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“Hazelton. Harry doesn’t do the mathematical part as easily as
+I do, but he has a fine talent for fancy drawing, sir.”
+
+“Then I’ll try Hazelton tonight,” decided Mr. Thurston aloud.
+“You may go on with your drawing now, Reade. Hello; someone
+is coming into camp.”
+
+Mr. Thurston stepped over to the doorway in time to see a young
+man riding up on a pony.
+
+“Where’s the chief engineer?” called the newcomer.
+
+“You’re looking at him,” replied Mr. Thurston.
+
+The young man, who appeared to be about twenty-eight years of
+age, rode his horse to a near-by tree, then dismounted gracefully
+and tied his mount.
+
+The young man was well-built, dark-haired and smooth-faced, with
+snapping black eyes. There was an easy, half-swaggering grace
+about him suggesting one who had seen much of free life in the
+open air. For one attired for riding in saddle over mountain
+trails the stranger was not a little of a dandy in appearance.
+His khaki trousers and leggings, despite his probably long ride,
+were spotless. His dark-blue flannel shirt showed no speck of
+dust; his black, flowing tie was perfection; his light-hued sombrero
+looked as though it had just left the store.
+
+“If you are Mr. Thurston, I have the honor to present a letter,”
+was the stranger’s greeting as he entered the large tent.
+
+Mr. Thurston glanced at the envelope, reading: “Mr. Eugene Black.”
+
+“Be seated, Mr. Black,” requested the chief, then opened the letter.
+
+“Oh, you’re a new engineer, sent out from the offices in New York,”
+continued the chief.
+
+“Yes,” smiled the newcomer.
+
+“An experienced engineer, the vice-president of the company informs
+me.”
+
+“Six years of experience,” smiled the newcomer, showing his white,
+handsome teeth.
+
+Tom glanced up just in time to see that smile. “Somehow, I don’t
+quite like the looks of Mr. Black,” Reade decided.
+
+“What is your especial line of work, Mr. Black?” Thurston continued.
+
+“Anything in usual field work, sir.”
+
+“This letter states that you expect one hundred and twenty-five
+dollars a month.”
+
+“Then the letter is correct, sir.”
+
+“All right, Mr. Black; we’ll put you at work and let you prove
+that you’re worth it,” smiled Mr. Thurston pleasantly.
+
+“How soon shall I go to work, sir?” asked Black.
+
+“I expect my assistant, Mr. Blaisdell, here in about an hour.
+I’ll send you out with him when he returns to field.”
+
+“Then, if you’re through with me at present, sir, I’ll step outside
+and be within call.”
+
+Tom and his chief were again alone. Reade kept steadily on with
+his work, and no word was spoken for half an hour. Then there
+came a commotion in camp, for four drovers came in with two dozen
+horses that had been ordered for the use of the engineering party.
+
+“Step outside, Reade, and see the horses, if you care to do so,”
+suggested Mr. Thurston, reaching for his sombrero.
+
+“Thank you, sir; but the horses will keep, and I’m greatly interested
+in finishing my drawing so that I can take up more work.”
+
+“That young cub, Reade, is no idler.” thought the chief, as he
+stepped into the open.
+
+Tom kept steadily at work.
+
+Ten minutes later, Thurston still being absent, Eugene Black strolled
+into the tent. He glanced at Tom’s drawing with some contempt,
+then inquired:
+
+“Drawing, boy?”
+
+“Why, not?” laughed Tom. “I’m only one of the stable boys, and,
+as you can see, I’m currying a horse.”
+
+“Stop that sort of nonsense with me, right at the start,” flashed
+Black angrily, striding closer. “I don’t allow boys to be fresh
+with me.”
+
+“Where’s the boy?” drawled Tom, turning slightly, for a better view
+of the stranger’s face.
+
+“You’re one,” snapped Black.
+
+“What are you?” Tom asked curiously.
+
+“I’m an engineer.”
+
+“If that is anything to be chesty about, then I’m an engineer also,”
+Reade replied, rising.
+
+“Sit down, boy!” commanded Black angrily.
+
+The trace of frown on Reade’s face disappeared. He smiled
+good-humoredly as he observed.
+
+“Black, I’m a bit uncertain about you.”
+
+“_Mister_ Black, boy!” warned the other, his dark eyes snapping.
+“Why are you uncertain about me?”
+
+“I’m wondering,” purred Tom gently, “whether you are just _trying_
+to be offensive, or whether you don’t know any better than to talk
+and act the way you do?”
+
+“You young puppy, I’ll teach you something right now,” cried Black,
+stepping closer and raising a clenched fist.
+
+“Look out,” begged Tom. “You’ll upset my drawing table.”
+
+Eugene Black closed in, striking out. Reade who felt that the
+situation didn’t call for any fighting, retreated, still smiling.
+
+Whether by accident or design, Black, as he made a half turn to
+start after the cub engineer anew, brushed a corner of the unstable
+drawing table hard enough to tip it over. A bottle of drawing
+ink fell, too, splashing ugly black blotches over Tom’s carefully
+drawn outlines of a map.
+
+“Now, you’ve done it!” exclaimed Tom.
+
+“I haven’t quite finished,” snapped the stranger, rushing after Reade.
+
+“I’m going to box your ears soundly, boy!”
+
+“Are you, indeed?” demanded Tom, halting. He was still smiling,
+but there was a stern look in his eyes. Tom no longer retreated,
+but stood awaiting Black’s assault.
+
+Blanks fist shot out straight, but Reade didn’t stop the blow.
+Instead, he ducked low. When he came up his arms enveloped Black’s
+legs in one of the swift football tackles that Tom had learned
+with the Gridley High School football team.
+
+“You annoy me,” drawled Tom, and hurled the fellow ten feet away.
+Black landed on his back with an angry roar, followed by cursing.
+
+“Profanity is always objectionable to a gentleman,” declared Tom
+dryly, running over ere the newcomer could regain his feet. Once
+more Reade bent and rose. As he did so, Eugene Black shot through
+the tent doorway, landing on the ground a dozen feet beyond.
+
+Tom stood in the doorway, smiling. Black leaped to his feet.
+
+“You puppy!” gasped Black, sending his right hand back to his
+hip pocket. Tom didn’t wait to see what he would bring out, but
+darted forward. This time he seized the stranger in a dead tackle,
+dropping him over on his back without throwing him.
+
+“Now, roll over,” ordered Reade grimly. “I’m curious to see what
+you have in your pocket. Ah! So---this is it! You’re another
+Peter Bad, are you?”
+
+Tom held in one hand a silver-plated revolver with ivory handle
+that he had snatched out of Black’s pocket.
+
+“I wonder why it is,” mocked Tom, grinning, “that nine out of
+every ten dude tenderfeet from the east come west with one of
+these things.”
+
+Black charged the cub, intent on recapturing his pistol, but Reade
+shot out a foot, tripping him. Then Tom ran nimbly over to the
+cook tent. Here he halted, breaking the weapon at the breech
+and allowing the cartridges to drop into his hand. He transferred
+them to his pocket, then wheeled and picked up Jake’s kitchen
+hatchet.
+
+With a few swift strokes from the head of the hatchet Tom put
+that firearm on the retired list for good.
+
+“Give me my pistol, boy!” choked Black, running up.
+
+“Certainly,” rejoined Reade, wheeling and politely offering the
+ruined firearm. “I don’t want it. I’ve no use for such things”
+
+Black took his weapon, gasped, then, seizing it by the barrel,
+leaped at Tom, intent on battering his head.
+
+“Here, what’s the trouble?” cried Mr. Thurston, appearing around
+the corner of the cook house and promptly seizing Black by the
+collar of his flannel shirt.
+
+“Nothing much, sir,” laughed Tom. “Mr. Black has just been showing
+me how bad men behave out in this part of the country.”
+
+“This boy is a troublesome cub, Mr. Thurston,” declared Black
+hotly. “Do you see what he has done to my revolvers”
+
+“How did Reade come to have it?” inquired Mr. Thurston.
+
+“He snatched it away from me.”
+
+“Reade, is this true?” demanded the chief engineer, turning to
+the youth.
+
+“Yes, sir; as far as the story goes.”
+
+“Tell me the whole truth of this affair,” ordered Mr. Thurston
+sternly.
+
+Tom started to do so, modestly, but Black broke in angrily at
+points in the narrative.
+
+“The principal thing that I have against Mr. Black,” Tom said,
+“is that he spoiled all my drawing work of this morning.”
+
+“Yes; but how did I come to do it?” insisted the newcomer. “You
+pushed me against your drawing table.”
+
+Tom started with astonishment.
+
+“My friend,” he remarked, “Baron Munchausen never had anything
+on you!”
+
+“Careful, Reade! Don’t pass the lie,” ordered the chief engineer
+sternly. “I shall look fully into this matter, but at present
+I’m inclined to believe that you’re more at fault than is Black.
+Return to the tent and start your drawing over again.”
+
+There was a smile again on Tom’s face as he turned back to make
+his spoiled work good.
+
+Mr. Thurston went back to his inspection of the ponies. Later,
+the chief engineer was able to pick up some details of the trouble
+from Jake Wren, who had seen Black reach for his revolver.
+
+“Understand two things, Mr. Black,” said the chief briskly. “In
+the first place, it is not expected that the engineers of this
+corps will find any real cause for fighting. Second, I will tolerate
+no pistol nonsense here.”
+
+Then he went back to Tom Reade and spoke to him more quietly.
+
+“Reade, if Black doesn’t turn out to be a valuable man here he
+won’t last long. If he is a good man, then you will find it necessary,
+perhaps, to use a little tact in dealing with him. Did you notice
+what snapping black eyes the man has? Men with such black eyes
+are usually impulsive. Remember that.”
+
+“I never thought of that before, sir,” Tom admitted dryly. “I
+really didn’t know that people with black eyes are impulsive.
+This I do know, however, people who are too impulsive generally
+get black eyes!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+“DOCTORED” FIELD NOTES?
+
+
+There was no more trouble---immediately. When the other engineers
+heard of the row---which news they obtained through Jake, not
+from Reade---they soon made it plain to ’Gene Black that Tom Reade
+was a favorite in the corps. Black was therefore treated with
+a coldness that he strove hard to overcome.
+
+In the matter of being a capable civil engineer ’Gene Black speedily
+proved himself efficient. Assistant Chief Engineer Blaisdell
+soon reported at headquarters that the new member of the corps
+was an exceedingly valuable man. Black was therefore placed at
+the head of a leveling squad that obtained the field notes from
+which were to be estimated the cost of making excavations in several
+cuts that must be made ere the coming tracks could be laid.
+
+In the days that passed Tom and Harry saw little of the field
+work. They were kept at the chief’s tent. Hence Reade had but
+little to do with ’Gene Black, which may have been fortunate,
+as Tom still retained his first instinctive dislike for the black-eyed
+fellow.
+
+<tb>
+
+“Reade and Hazelton, you two young men are going to forge ahead
+rapidly, and you are sure to earn good salaries, if you don’t
+make the too common mistake of young engineers first starting
+out,” Mr. Thurston told the cubs one forenoon.
+
+“And what is that mistake, sir, if you please?” Tom queried.
+
+“Don’t make the mistake of getting too large an idea of the value
+of your services,” replied the chief. “Just work hard all the
+time and be wholly unassuming.
+
+“I think we can follow that advice, sir,” Tom replied, with a
+smile.
+
+“If you can, you’ll get along rapidly. I have already written
+to our officers in New York, thanking them for having sent you
+two young men.”
+
+“Here’s the map I have just finished, sir,” said Harry, rising
+from his drawing table on which were arranged the various draughtsman’s
+inks and washes---the latter being thin solutions of water colors
+with which some parts of the maps were colored.
+
+“Very handsomely done, Hazelton. Reade, what are you doing?”
+
+“I’m at work on Black’s field notes of the leveling,” Tom answered.
+
+“I am very much pleased with Black’s work,” replied Mr. Thurston.
+“His notes show that we are going to get out of the excavating
+in the cuts at about one third of the trouble and expense that
+I had looked for.”
+
+“Black’s field notes certainly do look good, sir, for they show
+that you can get the work through on this division in much less
+time than you had supposed.”
+
+As he turned around to speak, Tom sat where he could easily see
+the colored field map that Harry had just turned in to the chief.
+
+“Hold on, there, Harry,” Tom objected.
+
+“You’ve lined in a pretty high hill on Section Nineteen. You’ll
+have to cut that down a bit.”
+
+“The surveyor’s field notes call for that hill,” Hazelton retorted.
+
+“But, as it happens,” objected Tom, “I’m just working out the
+profile drawing of Section Nineteen from Black’s notes. See here-----”
+Tom rested a pencil point on a portion of the hill depicted on
+Hazelton’s map. “You’ve drawn that pretty steep. Now, as you’ll
+see by Black’s notes, the upgrade at that point is only a three
+per cent. grade.”
+
+“Humph! It’s all of an eight per cent. grade,” grunted Hazelton.
+“See, here are the surveyor’s field notes.”
+
+“Three per cent. grade,” insisted Tom, holding forward Black’s
+leveling notes.
+
+“There’s a difference there, then, that must be reconciled,” broke
+in Mr. Thurston, rising, a look of annoyance on his face. “We
+can’t have any such disagreement as that between the field map
+and the profile sheet. Let us find out, at once, where the trouble
+lies.”
+
+Yet the more the three pondered over the matter the greater became
+the puzzle. The notes of the surveyor, Matt Rice, and of the
+leveler, ’Gene Black, were at utter variance.
+
+“We must get hold of these men as soon as they come in tonight,”
+exclaimed Mr. Thurston, much disturbed. “We must find out just
+which one is at fault.”
+
+“Rice is a very reliable man, sir,” spoke up Tom.
+
+“Yes; but Blaisdell reports that Black thoroughly understands
+his work, too,” grumbled the chief. “We must settle this tonight.”
+
+“May I make a suggestion, sir?” asked Tom.
+
+“Certainly. Go ahead.”
+
+“There is no use, sir, in my going ahead with this profile drawing,
+if there’s a chance that the sights turned in by Black are wrong.
+Until we know, my time at this drawing board may all be wasted.
+Trotter, one of the rodmen, is in camp today. I might take him,
+and a level along, and go over the foresights and backsights myself.
+All of the stakes will be in place. In two hours I ought to
+have a very good set of leveling notes. Then I can bring them
+back and compare them with Black’s sights.”
+
+“Can you run a level well?” inquired Mr. Thurston.
+
+“Of course I can, sir. It’s simple enough work, and I’ve done
+a good bit of it in the east.”
+
+“Go along, then, and see if you can throw any light on this,”
+sighed the disturbed chief.
+
+“Reade really ought to have two rodmen,” broke in Harry eagerly.
+“May I go along, sir, to serve as the other rodman?”
+
+“Run along,” assented Mr. Thurston. “Remember, boys, I can’t
+go any further until this tangle is settled. Come back as speedily
+as you can.”
+
+Tom and Harry snatched up their sombreros, hurrying forth. Trotter
+was found readily, and was ordered to saddle three ponies. Tom
+busied himself in picking out the best leveling instrument in
+camp, while Hazelton secured the rods and a chain. Then the party
+set forth in Indian file, Tom riding in advance.
+
+A trot of half an hour brought them to Section Nineteen. Here
+Tom speedily adjusted his instrument, taking up his post over
+the first stake at the bottom of the hill.
+
+Leveling is not difficult work, though it calls for some judgment
+and a good deal of care. For instance, when Tom set his telescope
+exactly level and took a reading of the rod at the second stake,
+which Harry held, he read the height as eight feet and four inches.
+Then he trudged forward, carrying his instrument, while Trotter
+held his rod exactly perpendicular over the first stake. From
+the second stake Tom sighted back through his telescope, reading
+two feet three inches. The difference between these two readings
+was six feet and one inch, showing that, for the distance between
+first and second stakes the rise in the hillside was six feet
+one inch. Thereupon Reade turned and sighted, from stake number
+two to stake number three, noting in his book the reading he secured
+from the rod at number three. Once at number three he turned
+his telescope backward, taking a reading from Trotter’s rod at
+number two. Ten stakes were thus covered, and not only were the
+foresights and backsights read and recorded, but the distance
+between each pair of stakes was measured with the chain and the
+distances entered on the record.
+
+At stake number ten Tom halted.
+
+“Harry,” he directed, “you take Black’s leveling notes and hold
+them while I read my own notes. Stop me every time that you note
+a difference between the two records.”
+
+After that Harry steadily stopped his chum at every reading.
+By the time that they had finished the comparisons Hazelton’s
+face looked blank from sheer astonishment.
+
+“Why, every single one of Blacks foresights and backsights is
+wrong!” gasped Harry. “And yet Mr. Blaisdell reported that ’Gene
+Black is such a fine engineer.”
+
+Tom turned to make sure that Trotter was resting out of hearing
+before he replied:
+
+“Harry, Black isn’t such a fool as to bring in an absolutely wrong
+record of sights, and yet do it innocently. If he didn’t do it
+unintentionally, then he must have tangled the record purposely.”
+
+“But why should he do it purposely?” Harry insisted. “He would
+know that, sooner or later, his blunders or lies would be discovered,
+and that he would be discharged. Now, Black really wants to hold
+his job with this outfit.”
+
+“Does he?” asked Tom bluntly.
+
+“Why, what do you mean?”
+
+“I don’t know,” Reade confessed. “I never heard of any such bungle
+as this before by an engineer. Why, Harry, this hillside averages
+an eight and a third grade, yet Black’s field notes show it to
+be only a three per cent. grade. Hang it, the fellow must have
+played the trick purposely!”
+
+“Yet why?” pressed Hazelton.
+
+“I’ll admit that I can’t understand. Unless, well---unless-----”
+
+“Say it!”
+
+“Unless Black joined this outfit with the express purpose of
+queering all the work of the entire corps as he could easily
+do. Harry, do you think that Black could possibly be serving
+with this outfit as the paid tool of the rival road, the W.C.
+& A.? Can he be the enemy’s spy within our lines---sent to prevent
+our finishing the road on time?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THINGS BEGIN TO GO DOWN HILL
+
+
+“I suppose I’m thick,” Harry murmured. “How would Black, by turning
+in some wrong backsights and foresights, expect to delay the building
+of the road, even if he wanted to do it?”
+
+“How?” repeated Tom Reade, showing an amount of heat and excitement
+that he rarely displayed. “Why, Harry, this same old Section
+Nineteen is one of the hard spots on the road. A lot of excavating
+has to be done before the tracks can be laid here. It’s not a
+mere matter of scooping up dirt and removing it, either. A large
+amount of solid rock has to be blasted out here before the roadbed
+can be laid.”
+
+“I know it,” Harry nodded.
+
+“Well, then, at the present moment our chief, Mr. Thurston, is
+preparing the estimates for the work that must be done. On his
+estimates will be based the strength of the laboring gangs that
+must come forward to do the work.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then, suppose that Mr. Thurston has been misled into making a
+certain estimate as to the number of thousand cubic yards of stuff
+that must be taken out of the outs that are to be made. After
+he gets his laborers here, and at work, he finds that he has at
+least three times as much rock and dirt to get out-----”
+
+“I see,” cried Hazelton. “Before the chief could get men and
+wagons, and make all necessary changes in the work, the time would
+have slipped by so far that the finishing of the road would be
+blocked.”
+
+“And the S.B. & L. would lose its charter,” finished Tom grimly.
+
+“It’s mighty lucky that we came out here today, then,” exclaimed
+Hazelton, now fully alive to the danger that menaced their employers.
+“Come, we must hustle back to camp and show Mr. Thurston how
+he has been imposed on. There can’t be a doubt that ’Gene Black
+has been deliberately crooked.”
+
+“Go slowly,” advised Tom. “Don’t be in a rush to call any other
+man a crook. Mr. Thurston can hear our report. Then he can look
+into it himself and form his own opinion. That’s as far as we
+have any right to go in the matter.”
+
+“Thurston is at fault in not having come out here himself,” Harry
+continued. “The chief engineer in charge of a job should know
+every foot of the way.”
+
+“Thurston, from the nature of his own work, is obliged to leave
+much of the detail to his assistant, Mr. Blaisdell,” Tom explained.
+
+“Then why doesn’t Blaisdell look out that no such treacherous
+work is done by any member of the engineer corps?” flared Harry.
+
+“’Gene Black is plainly a very competent man,” Reade argued.
+“The work has had to be rushed of late, and, on so simple a matter
+as leveling, I don’t suppose Blaisdell has thought it at all necessary
+to dig into Black’s field notes.”
+
+“I hope Black is fired out of this outfit, neck and crop!” finished
+Hazelton.
+
+“That’s something with which we have nothing to do,” Reade retorted.
+“Harry, we’ll confine ourselves to doing our work well and reporting
+our results. Mr. Thurston is intelligent enough to form all his
+own conclusions when he has our report. Come, it’s high time
+for us to be putting the ponies to real speed on the trail back.”
+
+Not long afterwards the young engineers rode into the engineer
+camp. Harry dismounted, seating himself on the ground, while
+Tom hurried toward the chief’s big tent.
+
+It was Blaisdell who sat in the chief’s chair when Tom entered.
+
+“Oh, hello, Reade,” was the assistant’s pleasant greeting.
+
+“Where’s the chief?”
+
+“Gone back to the track builders. You know, they’re within fourteen
+miles of us now.”
+
+“When will Mr. Thurston be back?”
+
+“I don’t know,” Blaisdell answered. “In the meantime, Reade, you
+know, I’m acting chief here.”
+
+“I beg your pardon,” Tom murmured hastily.
+
+“The chief told me, just before leaving, that you thought some of
+Black’s sights on Section Nineteen are wrong,” Blaisdell pursued.
+
+“They’re all wrong,” Reade rejoined quietly.
+
+“_All_?” echoed Blaisdell, opening his eyes very wide.
+
+“Yes, sir; everyone of them.”
+
+“Come, come, Reade!” remonstrated the acting chief. “Don’t try
+to amuse yourself with me. All of the sights can’t be wrong.”
+
+“But they are, sir. Hazelton and I have been over them most carefully
+in the field. Here are _our_ notes, sir. Look them over and
+you’ll find that Section Nineteen calls for three or four times
+as much excavating as Black’s notes show.”
+
+“This is strange!” mused Blaisdell, after comparing the two sets
+of notes. “I can’t credit it. Reade, you and Hazelton are very
+young---mere cubs, in fact. Are you sure that you know all you
+owlet to know about leveling?”
+
+“Mr. Blaisdell, I’ll answer you by saying, sir, that though Hazelton
+and I are nothing but cubs, we have the success of this railroad
+building game at heart. We’re deeply in earnest. We’ll work
+ourselves to our very bones in order to see this road get through
+in time. I don’t ask you, sir, to take our word about these sights,
+but we both beg you, sir, to go out with a gang of men and go
+over some of the work yourself. Keep on surveying, sir, until
+you’re satisfied that Black is wrong and that Hazelton and I are
+right. You know what it would mean, sir, if we’re right and you
+don’t find it out in time. Then you simply couldn’t get the cut
+through Section Nineteen in time and the S.B. & L. would lose
+its charter.”
+
+“By Jove, you’re right,” muttered Blaisdell uneasily, as he slowly
+stood up. “Reade, I’m going to take men and go out, carrying
+your notes and Black’s. Let me warn you, however, that if I find
+that Black is right and you’re wrong, then it will give you two
+cubs such a black eye that the chief will run you out of camp.”
+
+“If we had made any such gigantic blunder as that,” returned Tom
+firmly, “then we’d deserve to be run out. We wouldn’t have the
+nerve to put in another night in camp.”
+
+“Hey, you, don’t unsaddle those ponies. Hold yourselves ready
+to go out,” called Blaisdell from the doorway of the tent.
+
+“Will you give us our orders on drawing before you go, sir?” asked
+Reade.
+
+“No,” smiled Blaisdell. “If you’ve made a blunder out on Nineteen,
+then you’re not to be trusted with drawing. Wait until I return.
+Take it easy until then.”
+
+“Very good.”
+
+“And---Reade!”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Neither you nor Hazelton are to let a word cross your lips regarding
+the disagreement over Section Nineteen.”
+
+“You’ll never have any trouble, sir, over our talking when we ought
+not to do it,” promised Reade.
+
+Two minutes later the assistant engineer rode out with a pair of
+rodmen whom he picked up on the way to Nineteen.
+
+“What happened?” asked Harry, coming into the big tent.
+
+Tom told him all that had taken place, adding the caution that
+nothing was to be said about the matter for the present.
+
+“Whew! I wish Mr. Blaisdell had let me go along,” murmured Hazelton.
+“I’d like to have seen his face when he finds out!”
+
+Hearing footsteps approaching outside, Reade signaled for silence.
+Then the flap of the tent was pulled back and Bad Pete glanced in.
+
+“Howdy, pardners?” was the greeting from the bad man, that caused
+Tom Reade almost to fall from his campstool.
+
+“How are you, Peter?” returned Tom. “This is, indeed, a pleasure.”
+
+“Where’s the boss?” continued Bad Pete.
+
+“If you mean Mr. Thurston, he’s away.”
+
+“Where’s Blaisdell, then?”
+
+“He hit the trail, just a few minutes ago,” Tom responded.
+
+“Then I suppose you have no objections if I sit in here a while?”
+
+“Peter,” replied Tom solemnly, “you’ll be conferring a great honor
+on us.”
+
+The bad man’s present mood was so amiable that Harry did not deem
+it desertion to go outside. Bad Pete had his cartridge belt restocked
+with sure-enough cartridges, and his revolver swung as jauntily
+in its holster as ever. Pete seemed to have no idea, however, of
+trying to terrify anyone with his hardware.
+
+“You’ve been away?” suggested Tom, by way of making conversation,
+after an awkward silence had endured for nearly two minutes.
+
+“Yep,” admitted the bad one. “Pardner, it seems like home to
+get back. Do you know, Reade, I’ve taken a big liking to you?”
+
+“Peter,” protested Tom, “if you don’t look out you’ll make me
+the vainest cub on earth.”
+
+“I mean it,” asserted Pete. “Pardner, I’ve a notion me and you
+are likely to become big friends.”
+
+“I never dared to hope for so much,” breathed Tom, keeping back
+a laugh.
+
+“’Cause,” continued Bad Pete, “I reckon you’re one of the kind
+that never goes back on a real pardner.”
+
+“I should hope not,” Tom assured him.
+
+“Have a cigar?” urged Pete, doffing his sombrero and taking out
+a big, black weed that he tendered the cub.
+
+“What’s the matter with it?” asked Tom curiously.
+
+For just a second Bad Pete’s eyes flashed. Then he choked back
+all signs of anger as he drawled:
+
+“The only matter with this cigar, pardner, is that it’s a gen-u-wine
+Havana cigar.”
+
+“I couldn’t tell it from a genuine Baltimore,” asserted Tom.
+“But I suppose that is because I never smoked.”
+
+“You never smoked? Pardner, you’ve got a lot to learn,” replied
+Bad Pete, as he put the cigar back in his hat and replaced the
+latter on his head. “And, while we’re talking about such matters,
+pardner, you might just hand me a twenty for a few days.”
+
+“Twenty dollars?” returned Tom. “Peter, until payday gets around
+I won’t have twenty cents.”
+
+Bad Pete gazed at the cub keenly.
+
+“Fact!” Tom assured him.
+
+“Huh!” grunted Pete, rising. “I’ve been wasting my time on a pauper!”
+
+Saying which, he stalked out.
+
+Tom discreetly repressed his desire to laugh. Hazelton glided
+into the tent, grinning.
+
+“Tom, be careful not to string Bad Pete so hard, or, one of these
+days, you’ll get him so mad that he won’t be able to resist drilling
+you through with lead.”
+
+“Let’s go over to the cook tent and either beg or steal something
+to eat,” proposed Reade.
+
+It was two hours later when a rodman rode hurriedly into camp.
+
+“Hey, you cubs,” he called, “come and help me get Mr. Blaisdell’s
+bed ready for him. He’s coming back sick.”
+
+“Sick?” demanded Reade, thunderstruck. “Why, he looked healthy
+enough when he went out of camp a little while ago.”
+
+“He’s sick enough, now,” retorted the rodman.
+
+“What ails Mr. Blaisdell?” asked Harry.
+
+“It’s mountain fever, I reckon,” rejoined the rodman. “Blaisdell
+must have been off color for days, and didn’t really know it.”
+
+All three worked rapidly getting everything in readiness for the
+coming of the assistant engineer. Then Mr. Blaisdell was brought
+in, on a stretcher rigged between two ponies. The acting chief
+is face was violently flushed, his eyes seemed bright as diamonds.
+
+“Reade,” said the acting chief thickly, as they lifted him from
+the litter to his cot, “if I’m not better by morning you’ll have
+to get word to the chief.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” assented Reade, placing a hand on Blaisdell’s forehead.
+It felt hot and feverish. “May I ask, sir, if you verified any
+of the sights on Nineteen?”
+
+“I---I took some of ’em,” replied the acting chief hesitatingly.
+“Reade, I’m not sure that I remember aright, but I think---I
+think---you and Hazelton were correct about that. I---wish I
+could---remember.”
+
+Bill Blaisdell closed his eyes, and his voice trailed off into
+murmurs that none around him could understand. Even Reade, with
+his very slight experience in such matters, realized that the
+acting chief was a very sick man.
+
+“You cubs better clear out of here now,” suggested one of the
+rodmen. “I know better how to take care of men with mountain fever.”
+
+“I hope you do know more about nursing than I do, Carter,” replied
+Tom very quietly. “In the future, however, don’t forget that,
+though I may be a cub, I am an engineer, and you are a rodman.
+When you speak to me address me as Mr. Reade. Come, men, all
+out of here but the nurse.”
+
+Once in the open Tom turned to Harry with eyes ablaze.
+
+“Harry, could anything be tougher? The chief away, the acting
+chief down with fever and on the verge of delirium---and a crooked
+engineer in our crowd who’s doing his best to sell out the S.B.
+& L.---bag, baggage and charter!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE CHIEF TOTTERS FROM COMMAND
+
+
+It was not like Tom Reade to waste time in wondering what to do.
+
+“Harry,” he continued, once more turning upon his chum, “I want
+you to get a pony saddled as fast as you can. You know that the
+telegraph wire is being brought along as fast as it can be done.
+This morning I heard Rutter say that it was hardly five miles
+back of us on the trail. Get into saddle, wire the chief at the
+construction camp, and bring back his orders as fast as you can
+ride.”
+
+Hazelton replied only with a nod, then broke into a sprint for
+the spot where the saddle animals were tethered. Two minutes
+later Harry, though not a crack horseman, left camp at a gallop.
+
+In Blaisdell’s tent matters dragged along. Ice was needed, but
+none was to be had. Cloths were wrung out in spring water and
+applied to the sick man’s head. Within half an hour Tom received
+word that the acting chief was “out of his head.”
+
+Later on Hazelton galloped back into camp bearing this despatch:
+
+“Reade, Engineer Corps.
+Take charge of camp until Rutter returns. Then turn over charge
+to him. Rush for the nearest physician; engage him to remain
+at camp and look after Blaisdell. I return tonight.
+(Signed) Thurston, Chief Engineer.”
+
+“Men,” called Tom striding over to the little party of rodmen,
+“tell me where the nearest physician is to be found.”
+
+“Doe Jitney, at Bear’s Cave,” replied one of the men.
+
+“How far is that?”
+
+“Fourteen miles, by the trail.”
+
+“Get on to a pony, then, and go after Dr. Gitney. Bring him here
+and tell him we’ll want him here for the present. Tell the doctor
+to bring all the medicines he’ll need, and both of you ride fast.”
+
+“I’m not going on your orders,” retorted the man sullenly.
+
+“Yes, you are,” Tom informed him promptly. “I’m in charge, for
+the present, and acting under Mr. Thurston’s orders. If you don’t
+go, you won’t eat any more in this camp, or draw any more pay
+here. It’s work or jump for you---and discharge if you lose or
+waste any time on the way. Mr. Blaisdell’s life is at stake.
+Rustle!”
+
+The man so ordered scowled, but he rose, went over and saddled
+a pony and rode out of camp.
+
+“That part is attended to,” sighed Tom. “Hang it, I wish we could
+get hold of some ice. I don’t know much, but I do know that ice
+is needed in high fevers. I wonder if anyone here knows where
+ice can be had? By Jove, there’s Peter! He knows more about
+this country than anyone else around here.”
+
+It was now within an hour of the time when the engineer parties
+might be expected hack into camp. Reade, however, was not of
+the sort to lose an hour needlessly.
+
+Tom had just caught sight of Bad Pete as the latter stepped through
+a little gully an eighth of a mile below the trail and vanished
+into some green brush.
+
+“I’ll run after him,” Tom decided. “Pete wants a little money,
+and this will be a chance for him to earn it---if he can find
+some man to drive a load of ice to camp.”
+
+Being a trained runner, Tom did not consume much time in nearing
+the spot where he had last seen Bad Pete. The lad put two fingers
+up to his mouth, intending to whistle, when he heard a twig snap
+behind him. Tom turned quickly, then, warned by some instinct,
+stepped noiselessly behind high brush. The newcomer was ’Gene
+Black.
+
+“Pete!” called Black softly.
+
+“Oy!” answered a voice some distance away.
+
+“That you, Pete?” called the engineer.
+
+“Yep.”
+
+“Then close in here. I have doings for you.”
+
+Tom Reade should have stepped out into sight. He was neither
+spy nor eavesdropper. For once, something within urged him to
+keep out of sight and silent.
+
+“Where be you, pardner?” called Pete’s voice, nearer at hand now.
+
+“Right here, Pete,” called Black.
+
+“What do you want, pardner?” demanded the bad man, coming through
+the brush.
+
+“Lend me a couple of hundred dollars, Pete,” laughed ’Gene Black.
+
+“Did you call me here for any such fool talk as that?” scowled Pete.
+
+“No,” Black admitted. “Pete, I don’t believe you have two hundred
+dollars. But you’d like to have. Now, wouldn’t you!”
+
+“Two hundred silver bricks,” retorted Bad Pete, his eyes gleaming,
+“is the price of shooting up a whole town. Pardner, just get me an
+extra box of cartridges and lead me to that town! But have you got
+the money?”
+
+“Yes,” laughed Black, holding up a roll of greenbacks. “This
+and more, too!”
+
+Bad Pete surveyed the money hungrily.
+
+“Some men who know me,” he muttered thickly, “would be afraid
+to show me a whole bankful of money when there was no one else
+looking.”
+
+“I’m not afraid of you, Pete,” replied Black quietly. “You might
+shoot me, if you felt you could get away with it. Do you notice
+that my left hand is in my pocket! I’m a left-handed shooter,
+you see.”
+
+Pete glanced covertly at that bulging left trousers’ pocket of
+the engineer.
+
+“You won’t have to do anything like that to get the money, Pete.
+Save your cartridges for other people. There, I’ve let go of
+my gun. Come close and listen to what I have to say---but only
+in your ear.”
+
+There followed some moments of whisperings Try as he would, Reade
+could not make out a word of what was being said until at last
+Bad Pete muttered audibly, in a low, hoarse voice:
+
+“You’re not doing that on your own account, Black?”
+
+“No, Pete; I’m not.”
+
+“Then you must really be working for the road that wants to steal
+the charter away---the W.C. & A.?”
+
+“Perhaps so, Pete. You don’t need to know that. All you have
+to know is what I want done. I’m a business man, Pete, and money
+is the soul of business. Here!”
+
+Black peeled some banknotes from his roll.
+
+“Ten twenties, Pete. That makes the two hundred I was talking
+to you about. Understand, man, that isn’t your pay. That’s simply
+your expense money, for you to spend while you’re hanging about.
+Stick to me, do things just as I want them done, and your pay
+will run several times as high as your expense money.”
+
+“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for this sort o’ thing,
+pardner?” Pete inquired huskily.
+
+“No; of course not,” rejoined ’Gene Black rather impatiently.
+
+“All my life,” returned Bad Pete solemnly. “Pardner, I’ll sell
+myself to you for the money you’ve been talking about.”
+
+“Come along, then. We’re too near the camp. I want to talk with
+you where we’re not so likely to be interfered with by people who
+have too much curiosity.”
+
+“If that means me,” quoth Tom Reade inwardly, “the shoe fits to
+a nicety.”
+
+Tom followed the pair for a little way, with a stealth that was
+born in him for the present need. Then the plotters stepped into
+a rocky, open gully, where the cub engineer could not have followed
+without being seen.
+
+“Oh, dear! I never wanted to follow anyone as much in my life!”
+groaned Reade in his disappointment.
+
+There was nothing to do but to go back. Then, too, with a guilty
+start, Tom remembered the great need of ice for poor, fever-tossed,
+big-hearted Bill Blaisdell, who had been so kind to the two cubs
+from the hour of their arrival in the field camp.
+
+Just as he stepped into the camp area Tom espied Jack Rutter,
+who also saw him and came quickly forward.
+
+“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Reade,” said Rutter, in
+a tone that was close to carrying reproach with it.
+
+“I’ve been absent on real business, Rutter,” Tom answered, with
+a flush, nevertheless. “Mr. Blaisdell must have ice a lot of it.”
+
+“Great Scott! Where shall we find it in these mountains in midsummer?”
+Rutter demanded.
+
+“We’ve got to have it, haven’t we?” Tom urged. “It will be the
+first thing that the doctor will call for.”
+
+“Then he should bring it with him,” returned Rutter.
+
+“Would you want the doctor to be hampered with a ton or so of
+ice!” asked Reade.
+
+“Would we need that much?” Rutter seemed hopelessly ignorant in
+such matters.
+
+“I imagine we’d want a lot of it,” Tom answered. “By the way,
+Mr. Rutter-----”
+
+“Well?” Jack inquired.
+
+Tom was on the point of giving a hint of what he had heard in
+the gully during the meeting between Black and Bad Pete. Then,
+on second thought, the cub engineer decided to hold that news
+for the ear of Mr. Thurston alone.
+
+“What were you going to say?” pressed Rutter.
+
+“Probably Hazelton has told you,” Tom continued, “that you’re
+in charge here until Mr. Thurston arrives.”
+
+“Yes; and I’m mighty glad that the chief will be here before daylight
+tomorrow,” returned Jack. “I may be a fair sort of engineer, but I’m
+not cut out for a chief engineer.”
+
+Later, one of the rodmen was sent to guide Harry to the nearest
+small town, twenty-eight miles away, for ice. If they succeeded
+in obtaining it they might be back by dark of the following day.
+
+Supper in camp was a gloomy meal. No one felt light-hearted.
+
+“Mr. Rutter,” asked Tom, approaching the temporary chief, soon
+after the evening meal, “what do you want Hazelton and myself
+to do this evening?”
+
+“Don’t ask me,” returned Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+“What have you been doing? Drawing?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Why don’t you go on with it?”
+
+“We’re at a point where we need orders, for we’ve had to lay down
+one part of the work while waiting for further instructions.”
+
+“I can’t help you any, then,” replied Rutter. “Sorry, but before
+I could give any orders I’d need a few myself.”
+
+At eleven o’clock that night Dr. Gitney arrived, with saddle-bags
+full of medicines and other necessaries. He saw Blaisdell, and
+pronounced the assistant engineer a very sick man.
+
+Shortly after midnight Mr. Thurston rode into camp. He tottered
+from saddle and reeled until Tom, on the lookout for him, ran
+forward and supported the chief engineer to his tent.
+
+Then Dr. Gitney was sent for and came.
+
+“Your chief has mountain fever, too,” said the medical attendant
+to Tom, after stepping outside the tent.
+
+“How long will it take them to get well?” asked Wade anxiously.
+
+“Weeks! Hard to say,” replied the physician vaguely.
+
+“Weeks!” groaned Tom Reade. “And the camp now in charge of Jack
+Rutter, who’s a fine workman but no leader! Doc Gitney doesn’t
+know it, but he has sentenced the S.B. & L. railroad to death!”
+
+It was a trying situation. The cub engineer felt it keenly, for
+he had set his heart on seeing the S.B. & L. win out over its rival.
+
+Then, too, all in a flash, the memory of ’Gene Black’s treachery
+to his employers came back to the mind of Tom Reade.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+FROM CUB TO ACTING CHIEF
+
+
+Tom didn’t sleep that night. He sat by, silently, in the big
+tent, nursing the patient as Dr. Gitney directed.
+
+In the morning, at five, Matt Rice came. Tom gladly surrendered
+the post to him and took a scant hour of deep slumber on the bare
+ground outside.
+
+“Wake up, Reade,” ordered Rutter, at last shaking the cub and
+hauling him to his feet. “This is no place to sleep. Go to your
+tent and stretch out full length on your cot.”
+
+“On my cot?” demanded Tom, rubbing his eyes fiercely. “You can’t
+spare me from the day’s work?”
+
+“I don’t believe there will be any day’s work,” Rutter answered.
+
+“You’re in charge, man! You must put us to work,” Tom insisted.
+
+“I don’t know just what ought to be done,” complained Rutter.
+“I shall have to wait for orders.”
+
+“Orders?” repeated Tom, in almost breathless scorn. “From whom
+can you get orders?”
+
+“Howe is Thurston’s assistant at the lower camp,” Rutter rejoined.
+“He’ll have to come over here and take real charge. I’m going
+to send a messenger to the telegraph station and wire Mr. Howe
+to come here at once.”
+
+“See here, Rutter,” blazed Tom insistently, “Mr Howe is in charge of
+the construction forces. He’s laying the bed and the tracks. He
+can’t be spared from the construction work for even a day, or the
+road will fail to get through, no matter what we do here. Man,
+you’ve simply got to be up and doing! Make some mistakes, if you
+have to, but don’t lie down and kill the S.B. & L. with inaction.”
+
+“Cub,” laughed Rutter good-humoredly, “you speak as if this were
+a big personal matter with you.”
+
+“Oh, isn’t it, thought” retorted Tom Reade with spirit. “My whole
+heart is centered on seeing the S.B. & L. win out within the time
+granted by its charter. Rutter, if you don’t take hold with a
+rush and make a live, galloping start with your new responsibilities,
+I’m afraid I’ll go wild and assault you violently!”
+
+“Ha, ha, ha!” Jack laughed loudly.
+
+“Here, stop that cackling,” ordered Reade in the same low voice
+that he had been using. “Let’s get away from the chief’s tent.
+We’ll disturb him with our noise.”
+
+Dr. Gitney, entering the big tent five minutes later, found Mr.
+Thurston very much awake, for he had heard the low-voiced conversation
+outside the tent. Mr. Thurston was not quite as ill as was Blaisdell,
+and had not as yet reached the stage of delirium.
+
+“Doctor, I want you to summon the engineer corps here,” begged
+the patient.
+
+“When you’re better,” replied the doctor, with a hand on the sick
+man’s pulse.
+
+“Doc, you’d better let me have my way,” insisted Mr. Thurston
+in a weak voice. “If you don’t, you’ll make me five times more
+ill than I am at present.”
+
+Watching the fever glow in the man’s face deepen, and feeling
+the pulse go up several beats per minute, Dr. Gitney replied:
+
+“There, there, Thurston. Be good, and I’ll let you have three
+minutes with your engineers.”
+
+“That’s all I ask,” murmured the sick man eagerly.
+
+Dr. Gitney went outside and rounded them up. All were present
+except ’Gene Black, who, according to Matt Rice, had taken a little
+walk outside of camp.
+
+“I hope you’ll soon be better, sir,” began Rutter, as the engineers
+gathered at the cot of their stricken chief.
+
+“Don’t say anything unnecessary, and don’t waste my time,” begged
+Mr. Thurston. “Rutter, do you feel equal to running this field
+corps until either Blaisdell or I can take charge again?”
+
+“No, I don’t chief,” replied Jack. “I’ve sent a wire to Howe, urging
+him to come here and take charge.”
+
+“Howe can’t come,” replied the chief. “If he does, the construction
+work will go to pieces. This corps will have to be led by someone
+now present.”
+
+Morris and Rice gazed eagerly at their chief. Butter showed his
+relief at being allowed to hack out from full control.
+
+As for Timothy Thurston, he let his gaze wander from face to face.
+
+“Reade!” he almost whispered.
+
+“Yes, sir!” answered Tom, stepping gently forward. “What can
+I do for you, sir?”
+
+“Reade,” came in another whisper, “can you---have you the courage
+to take the post of acting chief?”
+
+Several gasps of astonishment broke on the air, but the greatest
+gasp of all came from Reade himself.
+
+“I think you need a little sleep now, sir,” urged Tom.
+
+“I’m not out of my head,” smiled Timothy Thurston wanly. “Doc
+Gitney will tell you that. Come---for I’m growing very tired.
+Can you swing this outfit and push the S.B. & L. through within
+charter time?”
+
+“I---I---hardly know what to say,” stammered Tom, who felt dizzy
+from the sudden rush of blood to his head.
+
+“Have you the courage to try?”
+
+“Yes, sir---_I have_!” came, without further hesitation from Tom
+Reade. “I believe I’ll succeed, at that, for I’ll stake health,
+and even life, on winning out!”
+
+“That’s what I like to hear,” breathed Mr. Thurston, an added flush
+coming to his own face.
+
+“Gentlemen, it’s time to leave,” warned Dr. Gitney, watching his
+patient.
+
+“One moment more, Doc,” insisted the chief engineer feebly.
+“Gentlemen, you’ve heard what has just been said. Will everyone of
+you pledge himself on his honor to drop all feeling that might
+interfere? Will you all stand loyally by Reade, take his orders
+and help boost him and all the rest of us through to victory in this
+big game?”
+
+“I will!” spoke Jack Rutter earnestly and with a deep sigh of relief.
+
+The others added their promises.
+
+“Reade, you will take full charge here,” continued Timothy Thurston.
+“Notify Mr. Howe, too, at once. You and he will not need to
+conflict with each other in any way. Also notify the president
+of the road, at the New York offices. Wire him at once. Now---thank
+you all, gentlemen. I believe I shall have to stop and go to sleep.”
+
+“Get out, all of you,” came firmly from bearded, middle-aged Dr.
+Gitney. “You fellows now have your acting chief to look to, and
+you don’t need to bother a sick man any more.”
+
+When Tom Reade stepped outside, on the heels of the others, he
+certainly didn’t feel as though treading on air. Instead, he
+wondered if he were going to reel and totter, so dizzy did he
+feel over the sudden realization of the responsibilities he had
+taken upon himself.
+
+“Give us our orders, chief,” begged Matt Rice, with a grin, when Tom
+joined the others over by the mess tent.
+
+“Wait a few moments,” urged Reade. “I don’t really know whether
+I am chief or a joke.”
+
+“Great Scott! After lecturing me the way you did, you are not going
+to get cold feet, are you?” gasped Jack Rutter.
+
+“You’ll know what I mean before long,” Tom murmured. “I signaled
+to Dr. Gitney to follow me as soon as he could.”
+
+“How does it seem to know that you have only to beckon and that men
+must follow?” laughed Joe Grant. It is doubtful whether Tom, gazing
+at the chief’s big tent, even heard.
+
+Presently Dr. Gitney stepped outside and came toward them.
+
+“Doctor,” began Tom, “will you give me your word of honor that
+Mr. Thurston is in his right mind?”
+
+“He certainly impresses me as being so,” the physician replied.
+
+“You fully believe that he knew just what he was doing?” Tom insisted.
+
+“I do, Reade. But why should you care? You have the reins in your
+own hands now.”
+
+“I wish to keep the reins there,” Tom returned quickly. “Still
+I don’t want to hold the power for an instant if there is reason
+to believe that Mr. Thurston didn’t know what he was doing.”
+
+“If that is all you required of me, Reade, rest easy and go ahead
+with the big trust that has been placed in your hands,” replied
+Dr. Gitney.
+
+“Then help me to get a few things out of the chief’s tent that we
+shall need,” replied Tom.
+
+“Tell me what the things are,” rejoined the physician, “and I’ll pass
+them out. I don’t want one of you in there, or Thurston will soon be
+as delirious as Blaisdell is, poor fellow.”
+
+By stealth, drawing tables and instruments, several boxes of maps,
+books and papers and other necessary articles were taken from
+Mr. Thurston tent without awaking the sick man.
+
+These were removed to a tent that was not occupied at the moment.
+
+“Supper’s ready, folks,” announced Bob, the cook’s helper, stepping
+softly through camp.
+
+Tom joined the other engineers, taking a few hasty mouthfuls.
+Hardly had the party gathered in the mess tent when ’Gene Black,
+bright and cheery, stepped in swiftly, nodding here and there.
+
+“Well, Rutter, I take it you are running the camp from now on?”
+asked Black.
+
+“Guess just once more,” replied Jack.
+
+“Who is, then?”
+
+“Mr. Reade.”
+
+Black gulped, then grinned.
+
+“The cub? That’s good!”
+
+Black leaned back on his stool, laughing loudly.
+
+“But who _is_ going to boss the camp?” insisted Black, after he had
+had his laugh.
+
+“Mr. Reade!” flung back the other engineers in one voice.
+
+“What have you to say to this, cub?” asked ’Gene Black, turning
+to Tom.
+
+“Mr. Thurston placed me in charge because no one else would assume
+the responsibility,” smiled Tom good-humoredly.
+
+“Then you’re going to stay boss for the present?”
+
+“Unless Mr. Thurston changes his mind.”
+
+“Oh, what a fool I was to be away this afternoon!” groaned Black
+to himself. “I could have gotten this chance away from a cub like
+Reade. Oh, but my real task would have been easy if I had been here
+on deck, and had got Thurston to turn matters over to me. Reade
+will be easy! He’s only a cub---a booby. Even if he proved
+shrewd---well, I have at my disposal several ways of getting rid
+of him!”
+
+Then, aloud, Black went on:
+
+“Reade, I’m a candidate for the post of acting assistant chief
+engineer.”
+
+“That goes to Rutter, if he’ll take it,” replied Tom, with a smile.
+
+“Oh, I’ll take it,” nodded Jack Rutter. “I can follow orders, when
+I have someone else to give them.”
+
+Tom was intentionally pleasant with ’Gene Black. He intended
+to remain pleasant---until he was quite ready to act.
+
+Immediately after supper Tom ordered one of the chainmen to saddle
+a pony and be ready to take a message back to the telegraph service
+that was rapidly overtaking them.
+
+“I want you to be sure to get a receipt for the message from the
+operator,” Tom explained. “Direct the operator to get the message
+through to New York at once.”
+
+“What’s the use?” demanded the chainman. “It’s night in New York,
+the same as it is here. If the message goes through at any time
+tonight it will do.”
+
+“I didn’t ask you that,” Tom replied quietly. “I told you to
+instruct the operator, from me, to send the message at once.
+Then, if there is any delay on the way, the message will still
+be in New York in the morning when the company’s offices open.”
+
+Then Tom Reade went to the new headquarters’ tent, seated himself
+at the desk and picked up a pen.
+
+“Whew!” he muttered suddenly. “This message is going to be harder
+to write than I thought! When the president of the S.B. & L. gets
+my telegram, informing him that a cub is in command here, he’ll blow
+up! If he recovers he’ll wire me that he’s sending a grown man for
+the job!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+BLACK TURNS OTHER COLORS
+
+
+Through the night Tom Reade managed to get some sound sleep.
+
+Had he been less exhausted physically the excitement caused by
+his sudden and dizzying promotion might have interfered with his
+rest. As it was, he slept like a log, though, by his own orders,
+he was called twice in the night to be informed as to the condition
+of the two sick men.
+
+In the morning a male nurse for whom Dr. Gitney had arranged arrived
+in camp. Thereafter the physician had a little opportunity for rest.
+
+Mr. Thurston reached the delirium stage in his illness that forenoon.
+
+“Reade, I don’t feel like going out this morning,” announced ’Gene
+Black, approaching the young head of the camp after early breakfast.
+
+“What’s the matter?” Tom asked pleasantly.
+
+“I have rather a bad headache,” complained Black.
+
+“That’s a woman’s complaint,” smiled Tom.
+
+“Just the same, I’m not fit for duty,” retorted Black rather testily.
+“I hope I’m not going to come down with the fever, but I can’t be
+sure.”
+
+“You’d better stay in camp, then,” nodded Reade. “Don’t go out into
+the field again until you feel like work.”
+
+“Humph! He takes it easily enough,” grunted Black to himself
+as the young chief strode away to confer with Butter. “I wonder
+if the cub suspects the game I’m playing here? Oh, pshaw! Of
+course he doesn’t suspect. Why should he? The truth is that
+Cub Reade doesn’t realize how much every man is needed in the
+field. Reade doesn’t understand the big need for hustle here.
+Well, that all helps to make my task the easier.”
+
+Within five minutes Rutter and the other engineers had their full
+instructions. As they started away Tom called after them:
+
+“Gentlemen, if there is any possible way of putting fifty per cent.
+more work into each day, now, I know I can rely upon you all to do
+it. The S.B. & L. must run its first train over the completed road
+within charter time.”
+
+Now, Tom had opportunity to wonder what had happened to Harry
+Hazelton, who should have been back in camp the preceding evening.
+“He must have had to go farther for ice than we imagined,”
+was the only conclusion Reade could form. “At any rate, Harry
+won’t come back until he has it. He won’t bring back merely an
+excuse when his commission was for a ton of ice.”
+
+Tom wandered into the new headquarters’ tent, heaved a big sigh
+as the weight of his new responsibilities struck him with full
+force, and began a systematic examination of all the piles of
+papers and maps now under his charge.
+
+By nine o’clock Harry Hazelton and his guide returned, followed
+by a four-mule transport wagon.
+
+Tom, hearing the approach, came out and beckoned. Harry rode
+up, dismounting.
+
+“Well, I got the ice, you see,” announced Hazelton.
+
+“Did you have to go very far for it?”
+
+“No; but you and I forgot to allow for the time that mules would
+need for rest on such a steep, uphill climb. Where is the ice to go?”
+
+“Send the man over to Jake Wren. Jake knows more about such things
+than you or I will know within the next ten years.”
+
+Harry carried the order to the driver, then hurried back.
+
+“How are our sick men?” he asked.
+
+“Both alive, but delirious. Doc Gitney has a man nurse to help
+him now.”
+
+“Did Mr. Rutter leave any orders for me?” pressed Harry.
+
+“No; Rutter is in charge of the actual field work only.”
+
+“Who gives the main orders?”
+
+“I do---unless New York changes the plan.”
+
+Tom hastily narrated what had taken place in Mr. Thurston’s tent
+the day before. Harry listened, his eyes growing larger as he
+heard.
+
+“Tom! I’m mighty glad!” he cried delightedly. “You’re going
+to do the trick, too! You’re going to put the S.B. & L. through
+within the time allowed by the charter!”
+
+“I’m going to do it or wear myself out,” replied Reade, with a
+glint of determination in his eyes. “But, Harry, the road isn’t
+going to go through on mere wind. We’ve got to work---not talk!
+Come into the new headquarters’ tent. Throw the front of your
+shirt open, take a few deep breaths, tie down the safety valve
+and get ready to make the steam fly. I’m going over the maps
+and documents, the field notes, the reports and what not. I want
+you to help me untangle them and set all matters straight.”
+
+For two hours the cub engineers worked as they had never toiled
+before. Then a horseman drew up before their tent.
+
+“Telegram for Reade, acting chief engineer,” called the man from
+saddle. “The czar over at the cook house told me I’d find my
+man here.”
+
+“I’m Reade,” admitted Tom, stepping outside and receiving the
+envelope. “Do you belong with the telegraph construction crowd?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied the young horseman.
+
+“How long before you expect to have the line up with the camp?”
+
+“By tomorrow night, unless you move the camp forward again.”
+
+“That’s good news,” nodded Reade. “Wait until I see whether there
+is to be an answer to this message.”
+
+Tom stepped inside, breaking the flap of the envelope. From head
+to foot he trembled as his eyes took in the following message:
+
+“Reade, Acting Chief Engineer.
+
+“Relying upon Thurston’s judgment, and from your satisfactory
+wire, conclude that Thurston chose right man for post. Assume
+all responsibilities. Advise New York offices daily as to condition
+of work, also condition Thurston and Blaisdell. Spare no expense
+in their care. Shall join you within five days.”
+
+(Signed) “Newnham, President S.B. & L. R.R.”
+
+Having read the telegram, Tom turned to pick up a sheet of paper.
+After jotting down the address of President Newnham, he added:
+
+“Shall hustle job through rapidly if there is any way of doing
+it. Shall engage extra engineers in this state. Hope to be able
+to show you, on arrival, things moving at speed.”
+
+(Signed) Reade, “Acting Chief Engineer.”
+
+Then Tom shoved both despatches under his chum’s eyes. Naturally
+Hazelton read the one from New York first.
+
+“Whew! The president seems to trust you,” murmured Harry.
+
+“No; he doesn’t,” Tom retorted. “He doesn’t know anything about
+me. His wire shows that he knows and trusts Mr. Thurston, the
+man who picked me out for this job.”
+
+Then Tom wrote a second despatch, addressed to the State University.
+It ran as follows:
+
+“Have heard that your university has party from engineering school
+in field this summer. Can you place me in immediate wire communication
+with professor in charge of party? Have practical work to offer
+students.”
+
+This also Tom showed briefly to his chum. Then, picking up the
+two telegrams, Tom stepped outside, turning them over to the rider.
+“Ask your operator to rush both of these, the one to New York
+going first.”
+
+As the pony’s hoofs clicked against the gravel, Reade stepped
+inside the tent.
+
+“What are you going to do with the State University students?”
+asked Harry curiously.
+
+“Put ’em at work on the smaller jobs here,” Tom answered. “At
+least, as many of them as the professor will vouch for.”
+
+Three hours later Tom received an answer to his local despatch.
+It was from Professor Coles, sixty miles away, in camp with a
+party of thirty engineering students. The professor asked for
+further particulars. Tom wired back:
+
+“Can use your entire lot of students in practical railroad work,
+if they want experience and can do work. Will you bring them
+here with all speed and let us try them out? For yourself, we
+offer suitable pay for a man of your attainments. Students engaged
+will be paid all they are worth.”
+
+“Gracious, but you’re going in at wholesale! What will President
+Newnham say to you for engaging men at such a wholesale rate!”
+
+“By the time he reaches here,” replied Tom in a tone that meant
+business, “either he will see results that will force him to
+approve---or else he’ll give me my walking papers.”
+
+“Now, what shall we do?” inquired Hazelton.
+
+“Nothing. It’s nearly time for the field force to be back in camp.”
+
+“We’d better work every minute of the time,” urged Harry.
+
+“We’re going to take things more easily after this,” Tom yawned.
+
+“Is that what you mean by hustling?”
+
+“In a way, yes,” Tom nodded. “See here, Harry, in the field we
+tried to do the work of a man and a half each, didn’t we? And
+here at the drawing tables, too.”
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“Now there is need of hustling, and, if we work too hard, we simply
+won’t have time to plan for others, or even to know what they’re
+doing. There are a lot of students coming, Harry. Most of them
+will be good men, for they’re young, full of enthusiasm, and just
+crazy to show what they can do. Some of them will doubtless be
+good draughtsmen. You’ll take these men and see to it that the
+drawing is pushed forward. But you won’t work too hard yourself.
+You’ll see to it that the force under you is working, and in
+that way you’ll be three times as useful as if you merely ground
+and dug hard by yourself. I shall go light on real work, just
+in order that I may have my eyes and brains where they will do
+the most good every minute of the time.”
+
+Someone was approaching. Tom threw open the flap of the tent,
+thus discovering that the man was Black.
+
+“Howdy, Reade,” was the greeting of the idle engineer. “I’m glad
+to say that my headache is better. I’m not going to have the
+fever, after all. Tomorrow I’ll be out on the leveling job.”
+
+Tom shook his head.
+
+“I want you to rest up tomorrow, Black.”
+
+“I won’t do it,” retorted the other flatly. “Tomorrow I go out
+and continue running my levels.”
+
+“Then I may as well tell you,” Tom continued, “what I would have
+preferred to break to you more easily later on.”
+
+“What do you mean?” questioned the other sharply, an uneasy look
+creeping into his face.
+
+“You’re not going to do any more work for us, Black,” replied the
+young chief coolly.
+
+“Not do any more work, What do you mean, Reade? Am I discharged
+from this corps?”
+
+“Not yet, Black, for I haven’t the money at hand to pay you to
+date. So you may stay here until the paymaster comes. Then, when
+you have your full amount of pay, you can leave us.”
+
+“What does this mean?” demanded ’Gene Black angrily, as he stepped
+closer, his eyes blazing.
+
+Some young men would have shrunk back before Black’s menacing
+manner. Tom had never yet met the man who could make him really
+afraid.
+
+“I’ve already told you the whole story, Black.”
+
+“Why am I discharged?”
+
+“I am not obliged to give you my reasons.”
+
+“You’ll find you’ll have to do so!” stormed ’Gene Black.
+
+“Well, then,” Tom answered, “you get through here because you kicked
+one of the tripod legs of your leveling instrument the other day, and
+left a mark on the wood.”
+
+“Don’t you try to be funny with me, you young hound!” hissed Black,
+stepping so close that Tom gently pushed him back. “You young
+idiot! Do you think you can fire me---and get away with it?”
+
+“We won’t talk about it any more,” Tom answered. “Your time will
+be all your own until the paymaster arrives. After you’ve received
+your money you will leave camp.”
+
+“Are any of the others going?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Then you’re discharging me for personal reasons!” snarled ’Gene
+Black. “However, you can’t do it! I’ll wire the president of
+the road, at New York.”
+
+“He won’t receive your wire,” Tom assured the irate one. “President
+Newnham is on his way here. Probably he’ll arrive here before
+the paymaster does. You may take your case to President Newnham
+in person if you wish.”
+
+“That’s what I’ll do, then!” breathed ’Gene Black fiercely.
+“And I’ll take your place in charge here, cub! If I don’t, _you_
+shall never finish the S.B. & L!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BAD PETE MIXES IN SOME
+
+
+Forty-Eight hours later Professor Coles arrived in camp with thirty
+healthy, joyous young students of engineering.
+
+It didn’t take Tom half an hour to discover that he had some excellent
+material here. As for the professor himself, that gentleman was
+a civil engineer of the widest experience.
+
+“I shall need you to advise me, professor,” Tom explained. “While
+I had the nerve to take command here, I’m only a boy, after all,
+and you’ll be surprised when you find out how much there is that
+I don’t know.”
+
+“It’s very evident, Mr. Reade,” smiled the professor, “that you
+know the art of management, and that’s the important part in any
+line of great work.”
+
+The student party had brought their own tents and field equipment
+with them. Their arrival had been a total surprise in camp, as
+none of the other engineers, save Harry, had known what was in
+the wind.
+
+“If these boys don’t make mistakes by wholesale,” declared Jack
+Butter, “we’ll just boost the work along after this. I wonder
+why Mr. Thurston never hit upon the idea of adding such a force?”
+
+“It’s very likely he has been thinking of it all along,” Tom rejoined.
+“The main point, however, is that we seem to have a bully field
+force.”
+
+Four of the students had been selected to serve as map-making
+force under Harry Hazelton. The rest were going out into the
+field, some of them as engineers in embryo, the rest as chainmen
+and rodmen.
+
+Though the field outfit now presented a lively appearance, all
+was kept as quiet as possible in and near the camp, for neither
+Mr. Thurston nor Mr. Blaisdell knew what was going on about them.
+Both were still delirious, and very ill.
+
+“Now I see why you could afford to ‘fire’ me and let the work
+slack up for a while,” sneered Black, meeting Reade after dark.
+
+“Do you?” asked Tom.
+
+“These boys will spoil the whole business. You don’t seem to
+have any idea of the numbers of fool mistakes that boys can make.”
+
+“They’re good fellows, anyway, and honest,” Tom rejoined.
+
+“Give some of ’em leveling work out on Section Nineteen,” suggested
+’Gene, apparently seized with a sudden thought. “Then compare
+their field notes with mine, and see how far out they are.”
+
+“I happen to know all about your leveling notes on Nineteen,”
+Reade retorted rather significantly.
+
+“What do you mean?” flared Black.
+
+“Just before Mr. Thurston was taken ill, as it happened, Hazelton
+and I took a leveling instrument out on Nineteen one day and ran
+your sights over after you.”
+
+“So that’s why you ‘fired’-----” began Black, his thoughts moving
+swiftly. Then, realizing that he was about to say too much, he
+went on: “What did you find wrong with my sights on Nineteen?”
+
+“I didn’t say that anything was wrong with your work,” Reade rejoined.
+“What I was about to say was that, if I put any of the students
+at leveling on Nineteen, by way of test, I shall have my own notes
+with which to compare theirs.”
+
+“Humph!” muttered the fellow. Then shaking with anger, he walked
+away from the young chief.
+
+“Now, Black knows that much against himself,” smiled Reade inwardly.
+“He doesn’t yet know, however, that I heard him talking with
+Bad Pete.”
+
+Though he was pretending to take things easily, Tom’s head was
+all but whirling with the many problems that presented themselves
+to him. To get away from it all for a while Tom strolled a short
+distance out of camp, seating himself on the ground under a big
+tree not far from the trail.
+
+Five minutes later the young chief heard halting footsteps that
+struck his ear as being rather stealthy. Someone, from camp,
+was heading that way. Stealth in the other’s movements made Reade
+draw himself back into the shadow.
+
+’Gene Black halted not far from the tree. Turning back toward
+the camp, the fellow shook his fist violently in that direction.
+
+“He’s certainly thinking of me,” grimaced Reade.
+
+“You young cub, you may laugh for a day or two more!” muttered
+Black, with another shake of his fist.
+
+“If that’s meant for me, I’m much obliged, I’m sure,” thought
+Reade. “Laughing is always a great pleasure for me.”
+
+“It’s your turn now,” continued Black, in the same low, passionate
+tone, “but I’ll soon have you blocked---or else under the sod!”
+
+“Oho!” reflected the young acting chief engineer, not without
+a slight shudder. “Is assassination in the plans of the people
+behind ’Gene Black’s treachery? Or is putting me under the sod
+merely an addition that Black has made for his own pleasure?”
+
+The plotter, still unaware of the eavesdropper, had now turned
+and was walking down the trail. He was now so far from camp that
+he did not need to be soft-footed.
+
+Out of the shadow, after a brief pause, stole Tom Reade.
+
+“If Black is going to meet anyone tonight I’d better be near to
+the place of meeting. I might hear something that would teach
+me just what to do to checkmate the plotters against us.”
+
+For fully half a mile the chase continued. Two or three times Reade
+stepped against some slight obstacle in the darkness, making a
+sound which, he feared, would travel to the ears of Black. But
+the latter kept on his way.
+
+Finally ’Gene Black halted where three trees grew in the form
+of a triangle and threw a dense shadow. In the same instant the
+young chief engineer dropped out of sight behind a boulder close
+to the path.
+
+Black’s low, thrilling whistle sounded. A night bird’s call answered.
+Soon afterwards, another form appeared, and Tom, peering anxiously,
+was sure that he recognized the man whom he expected to see---Bad
+Pete.
+
+What Tom heard came disjointedly---a few words here and there,
+but enough to set him thinking “at the rate of a mile a minute,”
+as he told himself.
+
+Up the trail came the pair, after some minutes. Tom crouched
+flat behind his boulder.
+
+“Great! I hope they’ll halt within a few feet and go on talking
+about the things that I want to hear---_must_ hear!” quivered Reade.
+
+It was provoking! Black and Bad Pete passed so close, yet the
+only sound from either of them, while within earshot, was a chuckle
+from Pete.
+
+“That’s right! Laugh,” gritted disappointed Tom. “Laughing is in
+your line! You’re planning, somehow, to put the big laugh over the
+whole line of the S.B. & L. railroad. If I could only hear a little
+more I might be able to turn the laugh on you!”
+
+The pair went on out of sight. Tom waited where he was for more
+than half an hour.
+
+“Now, the coast is surely clear,” thought Reade at last. He rose
+and started campward.
+
+“The soft-foot, the rubber shoe won’t work now,” Tom decided.
+“If I were to go along as if trying not to run into anyone, and
+that pair got first sight of me, it would make them suspicious.
+I haven’t been eavesdropping---oh, no! I’m merely out taking
+a night stroll to ease my nerves.”
+
+Therefore the cub chief puckered his lips, emitting a cheery whistling
+as he trudged along up the trail.
+
+As it happened the pair whom Tom sought had not yet parted. From
+behind a boulder a man stepped out in his path. From the other
+side of the boulder another man moved in behind him.
+
+“Out for the air, Reade?” asked the sneering voice of ’Gene Black.
+
+“Hello, Black---is that you?”
+
+“Now, Black,” broke in the voice of Bad Pete, “you wanted this
+cub, and he’s all yours! What are you going to do with him?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+BLACK’S PLOT OPENS WITH A BANG
+
+
+“Some mistake here, gentlemen,” interjected Tom Reade coolly.
+“Unless I’m very badly informed I don’t belong to either of you.
+If anyone owns me, then I belong to the S.B. & L.”
+
+“I told you I’d make you settle with me for throwing me out of
+the camp,” remarked Black disagreeably.
+
+“You’re not out yet---more’s the pity,” Tom retorted. “You will
+be, however, as soon as the paymaster arrives.”
+
+“You’re wrong,” jeered ’Gene. “You’re out---from this minute!”
+
+“What do you mean?” Tom inquired, looking Black steadily in the eye.
+
+Yet the young chief engineer had a creepy realization of just
+what the pair _did_ mean. Black must have confederates somewhere
+in the mountains near. It was evidently the rascal’s intention
+to seize Tom and carry him away where he would be held a prisoner
+until he had lost all hope of regaining his position at the head
+of the railroad’s field force.
+
+“You say that I’ll be thrown out of camp very soon,” sneered Black.
+“The fact is, you are not going back to camp.”
+
+“What’s going to stop me?” Reade inquired, with no sign of fear.
+
+“You’re not going back to camp!” Black insisted.
+
+“Someone has been giving you the wrong tip,” smiled Tom.
+
+He started forward, brushing past Black. It was mainly a pretense,
+for Reade had no notion but that he would be stopped.
+
+With a savage cry Black seized him by the shoulders.
+
+Tom made a quick turn, shaking the fellow off. While he was thus
+occupied Bad Pete slipped about, and now confronted Reade. The
+muzzle of a revolver was pressed against the young engineer’s belt.
+
+“Hoist your hands!” ordered Pete warningly.
+
+Tom obeyed, though he hoisted his hands only as far as his mouth.
+Forming a megaphone, he gave vent to a loud yell of:
+
+“Roo-rup! roo-rup! roo-rup!”
+
+It was one of the old High School yells of the good old Gridley
+days---one of the yells sometimes used as a signal of distress
+by famous old Dick & Co., of which Tom Reade had been a shining
+member.
+
+On the still air of the mountain night that yell traveled far
+and clearly. It was a call of penetrating power, traveling farther
+than its sound would suggest.
+
+“You do that again, you young coyote, and I’ll begin to pump!”
+growled Bad Pete savagely.
+
+“I won’t need to do it again,” Tom returned. “Wait a few minutes,
+and you’ll see.”
+
+“Shall I drop him, Black?” inquired Pete.
+
+’Gene Black was about to answer in the affirmative, when a sound
+up the trail caught his attention.
+
+“There’s someone coming,” snarled Black, using his keen powers
+of hearing.
+
+“Wait and I’ll introduce you,” mocked Tom Reade.
+
+“We won’t wait. Neither will you,” retorted Black. “You’ll come
+with us. About face and walk fast!”
+
+“I’m not going your way tonight,” replied Reade calmly.
+
+“If he doesn’t obey every order like a flash, Pete, then you pull
+the trigger and wind this cub up.”
+
+“All right,” nodded Pete. “Cub, you heard what Black said?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Tom, looking at Pete with smiling eyes.
+
+“Then come along,” ordered Black, seizing Tom by one arm.
+
+“I won’t!” Tom declared flatly.
+
+“You know what refusal means. Pete is steady on the trigger.”
+
+“Is he?” asked Reade coolly.
+
+Watching like a cat through his sleepy-looking eyes, Reade suddenly
+shot his right hand across his abdomen in such fashion as to knock
+away the muzzle of the revolver. Bad Pete felt himself seized
+in a football tackle that had been the terror of more than one
+opposing High School football player.
+
+Crash! Pete struck the ground, Reade on top of him.
+
+’Gene Black darted to the aid of his companion, but shrank back
+as he caught the glint of the revolver that Tom had twisted out
+of the hand of the bad man.
+
+“Duck, Black!” warned Tom, in a quiet tone that nevertheless had
+a deadly note in it.
+
+“Where are you?” called the voice of Harry Hazelton, not two hundred
+yards up the trail now.
+
+“Here!” called Tom.
+
+“Wow-ow-ow! Whoop!” yelled a chorus of college boys.
+
+It all took place in a very few seconds. Black, hesitating whether
+or not to close with Reade, decided on flight. He turned and
+fled.
+
+Whizz-zz-zz! The sound was made by the captured revolver as Tom,
+leaping to his feet, threw it as far from him as he could. It
+sailed through space, next disappearing over the edge of a steep
+precipice.
+
+“What’s your hurry, Peter?” drawled Reade, as, jerking Bad Pete
+to his feet, he planted a kick that sent the bad man down the
+trail a dozen feet.
+
+Tom started after Pete, intent on another kick. Bad Pete sped
+down the trail blindly. Like most of his gun-play kind, he had
+little courage when deprived of his implement of murder.
+
+“What’s up, Tom?” demanded Harry Hazelton, leaping to the spot.
+
+“What’s the row, chief?” asked one of the university boys eagerly.
+“Anyone you want us to catch? Whoop! Lead the way to the running
+track while we show you our best time!”
+
+“There’s nothing to be done, I think,” laughed Tom. “Do you all
+know Black by sight?”
+
+“Yes,” came the answer from a score of throats.
+
+“Well,” Tom continued, “if any of you ever catch sight of him
+in the camp again you are hereby authorized to run him out by
+the use of any kind of tactics that won’t result fatally.”
+
+On the way up the trail Tom told the rescue party something about
+the late affair.
+
+However, Reade referred to it only as a personal quarrel, refraining
+from making any mention of the treachery of Black and of the plots
+of which that treacherous engineer was a part.
+
+“If you’ve many friends like that one, chief, you had better strap
+a gun on to your belt.”
+
+“I don’t like revolver carrying,” Tom replied bluntly. “It always
+makes a coward of a fellow.”
+
+Two mornings later the telegraph wire, one end of which now rested
+in a tent in camp, brought word that President Newnham was at the
+construction camp, and would be along in the course of the day.
+
+Tom, Harry and the draughtsmen were the only engineers in camp
+at the hour when the message arrived.
+
+“Big doings coming our way!” announced Tom, after he had broken
+the news to the others.
+
+“Is Mr. Newnham likely to make much of a shake-up?” asked Watson,
+one of the college-boy draughtsmen.
+
+“I’ve never met him,” Tom answered, “and I don’t know. We’re
+going along at grand old speed, and Mr. Newnham had better let
+things run just as they’re going now, if he wants to see the S.B.
+& L. open for traffic within charter time.”
+
+“He may give all of us university boys the swift run,” laughed
+another of the draughtsmen.
+
+“I don’t believe it,” Tom replied. “The added help that you fellows
+have given us has enabled us to double our rush forward. I’ve a
+notion that President Newnham is a man of great common sense.”
+
+“How are the sick men this morning,” inquired Harry. “Is either
+one of them fit to talk with the president?”
+
+“Doc Gitney says he won’t allow any caller within a thousand feet
+of his patients,” Tom smiled. “And Doc seems to be a man of his
+word.”
+
+Both Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell were now weakly conscious,
+in a half-dazed sort of way. Their cases were progressing favorably
+on the whole, though it would be weeks ere either would be fit
+to take charge of affairs.
+
+The camp had been moved forward, so as to leave the sick men about
+a fifth of a mile away from the scenes of camp activity. This
+insured quiet for them until they were able to endure noise once more.
+
+“You’ll be amazingly busy until the president gets here, I take
+it,” remarked Bushrod, another college boy, without glancing up
+from his drawing table.
+
+“Yes,” drawled Tom, with a smile. “When you get time to breathe
+look out of the door and see what I’m doing.”
+
+Tom walked over to his favorite seat, a reclining camp chair that
+he had placed under a broad shade tree. Seating himself, the
+cub chief opened a novel that he had borrowed from one of the
+college boys.
+
+“It looks lazy,” yawned Tom, “but what can I do? I’ve hustled
+the corps, but I’m up with them to the last minute of work they’ve
+done. There is nothing more I can do until they bring me more
+work. I might ride out and see how the fellows are coming along
+in the field, but I was out there yesterday, and I know all they’re
+doing, and everyone of their problems. Besides, if I rode afield,
+I’d miss Mr. Newnham.”
+
+So he opened the book and read for an hour. Then he glanced up
+as a stranger on horseback rode into camp.
+
+“Tell me where I can find Mr. Reade,” said the new arrival.
+
+“You’re looking at hire,” Tom replied.
+
+“No, son; I want your father,” explained the horseman.
+
+“If you go on horseback it will take you months to reach him,”
+Tom explained. “My father lives ’way back east.”
+
+“But I want the chief engineer of this outfit,” insisted the stranger.
+
+“Then you’re at the end of your journey.”
+
+“Don’t tell me, young man, that you’re the chief engineer,” protested
+the horseman.
+
+“No,” Tom admitted modestly. “I’m only the acting chief. Hold
+on. If you think I’m not responsible for that statement you might
+ask any of the fellows over in the headquarters tent.”
+
+At that moment Harry Hazelton thrust his head out through the
+doorway.
+
+“Young man,” hailed the stranger, “I want to find the chief.”
+
+“Reach out your hand, and you can touch him on the shoulder,”
+answered Hazelton, and turned back.
+
+“I know I don’t look entirely trustworthy,” grinned Tom, “but
+I’ve been telling you the truth.”
+
+“Then, perhaps,” continued the stranger, looking keenly at the
+cub engineer, “you’ll know why I’m here. I’m Dave Fulsbee.”
+
+“You’re mighty welcome, then,” cried Tom, reaching out his hand.
+“I’ve been wondering where you were.”
+
+“I came as soon as I could get the wagon-load of equipment together,”
+grinned Fulsbee.
+
+“Where is the wagon?”
+
+“Coming along up the trail. It will be here in about twenty minutes.”
+
+“I’ll be glad to see your equipment, and to set you at work as
+soon as we’re ready,” Reade went on. “Harry, show Mr. Fulsbee
+the tent we’ve set aside for himself and his helper.”
+
+“Who is that party?” questioned Watson, as Hazelton started off
+with the newcomer in tow.
+
+“Oh, just a new expert that we’re taking on,” Tom drawled.
+
+Ten minutes later all other thoughts were driven from Reade’s
+mind. A mountain wagon was sighted coming up the trail, drawn
+by a pair of grays. The stout gentleman, on the rear seat, dressed
+in the latest fashion, even to his highly polished shoes, must
+surely be all the way from Broadway.
+
+“Mr. Newnham?” queried Tom, advancing to the wagon as it halted.
+
+“Yes; is Mr. Reade here?”
+
+“You’re speaking to him, sir,” smiled the cub engineer.
+
+Mr. Newnham took a quick look, readjusted his spectacles, and
+looked once more. Tom bore the scrutiny calmly.
+
+“I expected to find a very young man here, Mr. Reade, but you’re
+considerably younger than I had expected. Yet Howe, in charge
+of the construction corps, tells me that you’ve been hustling
+matters at this field survey end. How are you, Reade?”
+
+Mr. Newnham descended from the wagon, at once holding out his hand.
+
+“I’m very comfortable, thank you, sir,” Tom smiled.
+
+“You’re dreadfully busy, I’m sure,” continued the president of
+the S.B. & L. “In fact, Reade, I feel almost guilty in coming
+here and taking up your time when you’ve such a drive on. Don’t
+let me detain you. I can go right on into the field and talk
+with you there.”
+
+“It won’t be necessary, sir,” Tom answered, with another smile.
+“I’m not doing anything in particular.”
+
+“Nothing in particular? Why, I thought-----”
+
+“I don’t do any tearing around myself,” laughed Reade. “Since
+you were kind enough to make me acting chief engineer here I’ve
+kept the other fellows driving pretty hard, and I have every bit
+of work done right up to the minute. Yet, as for myself, I have
+little to do, most of the day, except to sit in a camp easy chair,
+or else I ride a bit over the ground and see just where the fellows
+are working.”
+
+“You take it mighty easily,” murmured President Newnham.
+
+“A chief may, if he has the sense to know how to work his
+subordinates,” Tom continued. “I don’t believe, sir, that you’ll
+find any fault with the way matters have gone forward.”
+
+“Let me see the latest reports,” urged Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Certainly, sir, if you’ll come into the head-quarters tent.”
+
+Leading the way into the tent where Harry Hazelton and his draughting
+force were at work, Tom announced:
+
+“Gentlemen, Mr. Newnham, president of the S.B. & L., wishes to
+look over the reports and the maps with me. You may lay off until
+called back to work.”
+
+As the others filed out of the tent, Tom made Harry a sign to
+remain. Then the three went over the details of what the field
+survey party was doing.
+
+“From all I can see,” remarked President Newnham, “you have done
+wonderfully well, Reade. I can certainly find no fault with Tim
+Thurston for recommending that you be placed in charge. Thurston
+will certainly be jealous when he gets on his feet again. You
+have driven the work ahead in faster time than Thurston himself
+was able to do.”
+
+“It’s very likely, sir,” replied Tom Reade, “that I have had an
+easier part of the country to work through than Mr. Thurston had.
+Then, again, the taking on of the engineer student party from
+the State University has enabled us to get ahead with much greater
+speed.”
+
+“I wonder why Thurston never thought to take on the students,”
+murmured Mr. Newnham.
+
+Bang! sounded an explosion, a mile or two to the westward.
+
+“I didn’t know that you were doing any blasting, Reade,” observed
+the president of the S.B. & L.
+
+“Neither did I, sir,” Tom replied, rising and listening.
+
+Bang! bang! bang! sounded a series of sharp reports.
+
+Tom ran out into the open Mr. Newnham following at a slower gait.
+
+Bang! bang! bang!
+
+“Hi, there, Riley!” roared Tom promptly. “Saddle two horses as
+quickly as you can. Harry, make ready to follow with me as soon
+as the horses are ready.”
+
+“Is anything wrong?” inquired the president. He was answered by more
+explosions in the distance.
+
+“I’m afraid so,” Tom muttered, showing his first trace of uneasiness.
+“However, I don’t want to say, Mr. Newnham, until I’ve investigated.”
+
+Before the horses were ready Tom descried, half a mile away, on
+a clear bit of trail, a horseman riding in at a furious gallop.
+
+“There comes a messenger, Mr. Newnham,” Tom went on. “We’ll soon
+know just what the trouble is.”
+
+“Trouble?” echoed Mr. Newnham, in astonishment. “Then you believe
+that is the word, do you?”
+
+“I’m afraid, Mr. Newnham, that you’ve reached here just in time to
+see some very real trouble,” was Reade’s quick answer. “But wait
+just two minutes, sir, and we’ll have exact information. Guessing
+won’t do any good.”
+
+Once or twice, through the trees, they caught sight of the on-rushing
+rider. Then Jack Rutter, a big splotch of red on the left sleeve
+of his shirt, rode hard into camp.
+
+“Reade,” he shouted, “we’re ambushed! Hidden scoundrels have
+been firing on us.”
+
+“You’ve ordered all the men in?” called Tom, as Rutter reined
+up beside him.
+
+“Every man of them,” returned Jack. “Poor Reynolds, of the student
+party, is rather seriously hit, I’m afraid. Some of the fellows
+are bringing him in.”
+
+“You’re hit yourself,” Tom remarked.
+
+“What? That little scratch?” demanded Rutter scornfully. “Don’t
+count me as a wounded man, Reade. There are some firearms in
+this camp. I want to get the men armed, as far as the weapons
+will go, and then I want to go back and smoke out the miserable
+rascals!”
+
+“It won’t be wise, Jack,” Tom continued coolly. “You’ll find
+that there are too many of the enemy. Besides, you won’t have
+to fatigue yourselves by going back over the trail. The scoundrels
+will be here, before long. They doubtless intend to wipe out
+the camp.”
+
+“Assassins coming to wipe out the camp?” almost exploded President
+Newnham. “Reade, this is most extraordinary!”
+
+“It is---very,” Tom assented dryly.
+
+“But who can the villains be?”
+
+“A picked-up gang of gun-fighters, sent here to blow this camp
+off the face of the earth, since that is the only way that the
+backers of the rival road can find to set us back,” Tom rejoined.
+“If they drive us away from here, they’ll attack the construction
+force next!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+SHUT OFF FROM THE WORLD
+
+
+Five horsemen belonging to the field party rode in furiously, Matt
+Rice at their head.
+
+“It’s a shame,” yelled Rice, as he threw himself from his horse.
+“I’d have stayed behind---so would the others---if we had had rifles
+with us. The scoundrels kept up a fire at a quarter of a mile range.
+Then we passed the men who are carrying Reynolds---they’re almost
+here now---but it wouldn’t have done any good for us to stand by them.
+We’d have made the other party only a bigger mark. Where are the
+revolvers, Reader? We’ve got to make a stand here. We can’t run away
+and leave our camp to fall into their hands.”
+
+“We’re not going to run away,” said Reade grimly. “But I’ll tell
+you what a half dozen of you can do. Hustle for shovels and dig
+a deep hole here. This gentleman is Mr. Newnham, president of the
+company that employs us. If the camp is attacked we can’t afford to
+have the president of the road killed.”
+
+“Mr. Newnham would do far better to ride down the trail as fast as
+he can go, and try to join the construction camp,” offered Rutter.
+
+The president of the S.B. & L. had been silent during the last few
+exciting moments. But now he opened his mouth long enough to reply
+very quickly:
+
+“Mr. Newnham hasn’t any thoughts of flight. I am not a fighting
+man, and never saw a shot fired in anger in my life, but I’m going
+to stand my ground in my own camp.”
+
+“Dig the hole, anyway,” ordered Tom. “We’ll want a safe place to put
+young Reynolds. We can’t afford to leave him exposed to fire.”
+
+“Where are the revolvers?” Rice insisted, as others started to get
+shovels and dig in a hurry.
+
+“Oh, never mind the revolvers,” replied Tom. “We won’t use ’em,
+anyway. We can’t, for they wouldn’t carry far enough to put any of
+the enemy in danger.”
+
+“Mr. Reade,” remarked Mr. Newnham, in a quiet undertone, “does it
+occur to you that you are making no preparations to defend the camp!
+That, in fact, you seem wholly indolent in the matter?”
+
+“Oh, no; I’m not indolent, sir,” smiled Tom. “You’ll find me
+energetic enough, sir, I imagine, when the need for swift work comes.”
+
+“Of course you couldn’t foresee the coming of any such outrage
+as this,” Mr. Newnham continued.
+
+“Oh, I rather guessed that this sort of thing was coming,” Tom
+confessed.
+
+“You guessed it---and yet the camp has been left undefended? You
+haven’t taken any steps to protect the company’s rights and property
+at this point?” gasped Mr. Newnham.
+
+“You will find, sir, that I am not wholly unprepared,” Reade remarked
+dryly, while the corners of his mouth drew down grimly.
+
+Tom was apparently the only one in camp, after the excitement
+started, who had noted that Dave Fulsbee, at the first shots, had
+leaped to his horse and vanished down the trail to the eastward.
+
+At this moment a party of a dozen, headed by Professor Coles, came
+in on foot, bearing young Reynolds with them.
+
+“Harry, mount one of the saddled horses and rush down yonder for
+Doc Gitney,” Tom ordered. “Give him your horse to come back on.
+He must see to young Reynolds promptly.”
+
+Some of the field party came in on horseback, followed soon by still
+others on foot. Many of the field engineering party, in their haste,
+had left their instruments, rods and chains behind.
+
+Tom, after diving into and out of the headquarters tent, held up a
+pair of powerful binocular field glasses. With these he took
+sweeping views of the near-by hills to the westward.
+
+“The scoundrels haven’t gotten in at close quarters yet, sir,” Reade
+reported to President Newnham. “At least, I can’t make out a sign
+of them on the high ground that commands this camp.”
+
+“This whole business of an armed attack on us is most incomprehensible
+to me,” remarked Mr. Newnham. “I know, of course, that the W.C.
+& A. haven’t left a stone unturned to defeat our efforts in getting
+our road running within the limits set in the charter. However,
+the W.C. & A. people are crazy to send armed assassins against
+us in the field in this fashion. No matter, now, whether we finish
+the road on time, this rascally work by the opposition will defeat
+their hopes of getting the charter away from us.”
+
+“It might prevent them from doing so, sir,” Tom rejoined quietly,
+“if you were able to prove that the scoundrels who fired on our
+engineering parties this morning were really employed by the W.C.
+& A. railroad crowd.”
+
+“Prove it?” snorted the man from Broadway. “Who else would have
+any interest in blocking us?”
+
+“Would that statement go in court, or before a legislature?” Tom
+pressed.
+
+“No, it wouldn’t,” President Newnham admitted thoughtfully. “I see
+the point, Reade. After the scoundrels have done their worst against
+us, they can disperse, vanishing among the hills, and the W.C. & A.
+people will simply deny that they were behind the attack, and will
+call upon us to prove it.”
+
+“Not only that, sir,” continued the cub chief engineer, “but I doubt
+if any of the officials of the W.C. & A. have any real knowledge that
+such a move is contemplated. This trick proceeds from the fertile
+mind of some clever, well-paid scoundrel who is employed in the
+opposition railroad’s gloom department. It is a cleverly thought-out
+scheme to make us lose three or four days of work, which will be
+enough to prevent us from finishing the road on time. So, the
+enemy think that we must lose the charter, sir.”
+
+“That trick will never work,” declared Mr. Newnham angrily. “Reade,
+there are courts, and laws. If the State of Colorado doesn’t protect
+us in our work, then we can’t be held to am count for not finishing
+within a given time.”
+
+“That’s as the legislature may decide, I imagine, sir,” hazarded
+the young engineer. “There are powerful political forces working
+to turn this road’s charter over to the W.C. & A. crowd. Your
+company’s property, Mr. Newnham, is entitled to protection from the
+state, of course. The state, however, will be able to reply that
+the authorities were not notified, and could not send protection
+to us.”
+
+“But we have a telegraph running from here out into the world!”
+cried the man from Broadway way, wheeling like a flash. “Reade,
+we’re both idiots not to have remembered, at the first shots,
+to send an urgent message to Denver. Where’s your operating tent?”
+
+“Over there. I’ll take you there, sir,” offered Tom, after pointing.
+“Still it won’t do any good, Mr. Newnham, to think of telegraphing.”
+
+“Not do us any good?” echoed the other, aghast. “What nonsense
+are you talking, Reade? If we are hindered the feet of our having
+wired to the governor of the state will be our first proof of having
+appealed to the state for protection. Can’t you see that, Reade?”
+
+The pair now turned in at the operator’s tent.
+
+“Operator,” said Reade, to the young man seated before the keys on
+a table, “this gentleman man is President Newnham, of the S.B. & L.
+Send any messages that he dictates.”
+
+“Get Denver on the wire,” commanded Mr. Newnham. “Hustle!”
+
+Click-click-click! rattled the sounder.
+
+“It won’t do a particle of good,” Tom uttered calmly. “’Gene Black,
+the engineer discharged from this camp, is serving the enemy.
+Black has brains enough to see that our wire was cut before he
+started a thing moving.”
+
+Click-click-click! spoke the sounder again.
+
+“I can’t get a thing,” explained the operator. “I can’t even get a
+response from the construction camp. Mr. Reade must be right---our
+wire has been cut and we’re shut off from the outside world.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE REAL ATTACK BEGINS
+
+
+Hearing the moving wheels of a wagon on the trail, Tom looked outside,
+then seized Mr. Newnham’s arm rather roughly.
+
+“Come along, sir, and come quickly, if you want to see something
+that will beat a carload of telegrams,” urged the cub engineer.
+
+Having gotten the president of the road outside, Tom let go of
+his arm and raced on before that astonished man from Broadway.
+
+“Here, you fellows,” called Tom, almost gayly, as he ran to where
+engineers and chainmen men were standing in little groups, talking
+gloomily over the forenoon’s work. “Get in line, here---a whole
+crowd of you!”
+
+Dave Fulsbee was now riding briskly toward the centre of the camp,
+ahead of the wagon for which he had gone down the trail. Laughing
+quietly, Tom hustled group after group of young men into one long
+line.
+
+“Hold up your right hands!” called out the young cub engineer.
+
+Wondering, his subordinates obeyed. Fulsbee reined up, dismounting
+before the line.
+
+“They’re all ready for you, friend,” called Tom gayly.
+
+“Listen, boys!” commanded Dave Fulsbee, as he faced the line on
+foot. “You do each and all of you, singly and severally, hereby
+swear that you will serve truly and well as special deputy sheriffs,
+and obey all lawful orders, so help you God?”
+
+Almost in complete silence the hands fell as their owners nodded.
+Both the engineers and rodmen felt a trifle dazed. Why was this
+solitary deputy sheriff before them, and with what did he expect
+them to fight! Were they to stand and throw rocks at an enemy armed
+with rifles?
+
+But just then the wagon was driven in front of them.
+
+“Hustle the cases out, boys! Get ’em open!” commanded Dave, though
+he spoke without excitement. “Forty rifles and ten thousand cartridges,
+all borrowed from the National Guard of the State. Get busy!
+If the coyotes down to the westward try to get busy around here
+we will talk back to them!”
+
+“Whoop!” yelled the college boys. They pushed and crowded about
+the wooden cases that were now unloaded.
+
+“See here,” boomed in the deep voice of Professor Coles, “I wasn’t
+sworn in, and I now insist that I, too, be sworn.”
+
+“Mr. Newnham, tell the professor that fighting is a boy’s business,
+and that there isn’t any call for him to risk himself,” appealed
+Tom. “There are plenty of youngsters here to do the fighting
+and to take the chances.”
+
+“Surely, there appear to be enough men,” chuckled President Newnham,
+who, since he realized that rifles and ammunition were at hand,
+appeared to be wonderfully relieved. “Professor, don’t think of
+running yourself into any danger. Look on, with me.”
+
+“Rifles are all given out, now, anyway,” called Dave Fulsbee coolly.
+“Now, youngsters, I’m going to show you where to station yourselves.
+Mr. Reade, have you seen anything through the glasses that looks
+interesting?”
+
+“By Jove,” Tom admitted, flushing guiltily, “I quite forgot to keep
+the lenses turned on the hills to the west.”
+
+He now made good for his omission, while Fulsbee led his young men
+away, stationing them in hiding places along the westward edge of
+the camp. Each man with a rifle was ordered not to rise from the
+ground, or to show himself in any way, and not to fire unless orders
+were given. Then Dave hurried back to the wagon. Something else
+was lifted out, all canvas covered, and rushed forward to a point
+just behind a dense clump of bushes.
+
+“Reade, I want to apologize to you,” cried the man from Broadway,
+moving quickly over to where Tom stood surveying the hills beyond
+through his glass. “I thought, for a few minutes, that you had
+suspected some such rascally work afoot, and that you had failed
+to take proper precautions.”
+
+“If I had failed, sir,” murmured Tom, without removing the glass
+from before his eyes, “you would have arrived just in time, sir,
+to turn out of the camp a man who wasn’t fit to be in charge.
+Yet it was only accident, sir, that led me to suspect what might
+be in the air.”
+
+Thereupon Tom hastily recounted to the president of the company
+the story of how he had accidentally overheard fragments of talk
+between ’Gene Black and Bad Pete.
+
+“That gave me a hint of how the wind was blowing,” Tom continued,
+“though I couldn’t make out enough of their talk, on either occasion,
+to learn just what was happening. I telegraphed to the nearest
+town that had a sheriff in it, and that put me in touch with Fulsbee.
+Then Dave, over the wire, offered to bring arms here and to help
+us to defend our camp.”
+
+“Mr. Reade,” exclaimed President Newnham hoarsely, “you are a
+wonderful young man! While seeming to be idle yourself, you have
+rushed the work through in splendid shape. Even when our enemies
+plot in the dark, and plan incredible outrages against us, you fully
+inform yourself of their plans. When the cowards strike you are
+ready to meet them, force for force. You may be only a cub
+engineer, but you have an amazing genius for the work in which
+chance has placed you out here.”
+
+“You may be guilty, Mr. Newnham, of giving me far more credit than
+I deserve,” laughed Tom gently. “In the matter of finding out the
+enemy’s designs, I didn’t, and I don’t know fully yet what the other
+side intends to do to us. What I did learn was by accident.”
+
+“Very few other young men would have been equal to making the
+greatest and best use of what accident revealed,” insisted Mr.
+Newnham warmly.
+
+Harry Hazelton came now, from the hole in the ground, to report
+that Dr. Gitney had done all he could for the comfort of poor
+young Reynolds.
+
+“Gitney says that Reynolds ought to come along all right, as far
+as the mere wound itself is concerned,” Hazelton added. “What
+will have to be looked out for is suppuration. If pus forms in
+and around the wound it may carry Reynolds off, for there are
+no hospital conveniences to be had in this wild neck of the woods.”
+
+“Is the doctor staying with Reynolds?” Tom asked, still using the
+glasses on the hilly country that lay ahead.
+
+“No; he has gone back to Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell,” Hazelton
+answered. “Doc says he’ll have to be with them to quiet them in
+case the firing gets close. He says both men will become excited and
+try to jump out of bed and come over here. Doc says he’s going to
+strap ’em both down.”
+
+“Dr. Gitney may be badly needed here, if a fight opens,” Tom mused
+aloud.
+
+“He says, if we need him, to send for him.”
+
+“Come through a hot fire?” Tom gasped.
+
+“Surely! Doc Gitney is a Colorado man, born and bred. He doesn’t
+mind a lead shower when it comes in the line of duty,” laughed
+Harry. “Now, if you’re through using me as a messenger, I’m going
+to find a rifle.”
+
+“You won’t succeed,” Tom retorted. “Every rifle in camp already
+has an amateur soldier behind it.”
+
+“Just my luck!” growled Harry.
+
+“You’re a good, husky lad,” Tom continued. “If you want to be
+of real use, just lie down hug the earth, take good care not to
+be hit, and-----”
+
+“Fine and manly!” interjected Hazelton with contempt.
+
+“Now, don’t try to be a hero,” urged Tom teasingly. “There are
+altogether too many green, utterly inexperienced heroes here at
+present. Be useful, Harry, old chum, and let those who are good
+for nothing else be heroes.”
+
+“Following your own advice?” asked Hazelton. “Is that why you
+haven’t a rifle yourself?”
+
+“Why do I need a rifle?” demanded Reade. “I’m a non-combatant.”
+
+“You-----”
+
+“Box the chatter, Harry, and ship it east,” Tom interposed, showing
+signs of interest. Then, in a louder voice, Tom called:
+
+“Dave Fulsbee!”
+
+“Here,” answered the deputy sheriff from his hiding place in the
+brush.
+
+“Do you see that bald knob of rock ahead, to your left; about
+a quarter of a mile away?”
+
+“I do.”
+
+“I make out figures crawling to the cover of the line of brush
+just to the right of the bald knob,” Tom continued. “There are
+eight of them, I think.”
+
+“I see figures moving there,” Dave answered. Then, in a low voice,
+the deputy instructed the engineers on each side of him.
+
+“I see half a dozen more figures---heads, rather---showing just
+at the summit line of the rock itself,” went on Reade.
+
+“Yes; I make ’em,” answered Fulsbee, after a long, keen look.
+
+Again more instructions were given to the engineers.
+
+“Say, I’ve _got_ to have a rifle,” insisted Harry nervously.
+“You know, I always have been ’cracked, on target shooting. This
+is the best practical chance that I’ll ever have.”
+
+“You’ll have to wait your turn, Harry,” Tom urged soothingly.
+
+“My turn?”
+
+“Yes; wait until one of our fellows is badly hit. Then you can
+take up his rifle and move into his place on the line. When you’re
+hit, then I can have the rifle.”
+
+Hazelton made a face, though he said nothing.
+
+Meanwhile Fulsbee’s assistant, the man who had driven the wagon into
+camp, stood silent, motionless, behind the canvas-covered object in
+the bushes just behind the engineer’s fighting line.
+
+“Now, if one of you galoots dares to fire before he gets the word,”
+sounded Dave Fulsbee’s warning voice in the ominous calm that
+followed, “I’ll snatch the offender out of the line and give him
+a good, sound spanking. The only man for me is the man who has
+the nerve to wait when he’s being shot at.”
+
+Crack! Far up on the bald knob a single shot sounded, and a bullet
+struck the ground about six feet from where Tom Reade stood with
+the binocular at his eyes.
+
+Then there came a volley from the right of the rock, followed
+by one from the rock itself.
+
+“Easy, boys,” cautioned Fulsbee, as the bullets tore up the ground
+back of the firing line. “I’ll give you the word when the time
+comes.”
+
+Another volley sounded. Bullets tore up the ground near President
+Newnham, and one leaden pellet carried off that gentleman’s soft
+hat.
+
+“Please lie down, Mr. Newnham,” begged Tom, turning around. Now
+that the fight had opened the cub chief saw less use for the binocular.
+“We can’t have you hit, sir. You’re the head of the company,
+please remember.”
+
+“I don’t like this place, but I’m only one human life here,” the man
+from Broadway replied quietly, gravely. “If other men so readily
+risk their lives for the property of my associates and myself, then
+I’m going to expose myself at least as much as these young men ahead
+of us do.”
+
+“Just one shot apiece,” sounded Dave Fulsbee’s steady voice.
+“Fire where you’ve been told.”
+
+It was an irregular volley that ripped out from the defenders
+of the camp. Half of the marksmen fired to the right of the rook,
+the others at its crest.
+
+Right on top of this came another volley, fired from some new
+point of attack. It filled the air at this end of the camp with
+bullets.
+
+“Livin’ rattlers!”, cried Dave Fulsbee, leaping to his feet. “That’s
+the real attack. Reade, locate that main body and turn us loose on
+’em. If you don’t, the fellows in the real ambush will soon make a
+sieve of this camp. There must be a regiment of ’em!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+WHEN THE CAMP GREW WARM
+
+
+President Newnham had prudently decided to lie down flat on the ground.
+
+Nor was it any reflection on his courage that he did so. He was
+taking no part in the fight, and the leaden tornado that swept
+the camp from some unknown point was almost instantly repeated.
+
+At the same time the marksmen on and at the right of the bald
+knob continued to fire. The camp defenders were in a criss-cross
+of fire that might have shaken the nerves of an old and tried
+soldier.
+
+Tom watched the ground as bullets struck, trying to decide their
+original course from the directions in which the dust flew. Then
+he swung around to the right.
+
+With modern smokeless powder there was no light, bluish haze to
+mark the firing line of the new assailants. Tom Reade had to
+search and explore with his binocular glass until he could make
+out moving heads, waving arms.
+
+“I’ve found ’em, Fulsbee!” young Reade cried suddenly, above the
+noise of rifles within a few yards of where they stood, as the
+engineers made the most of their chances to fire. “Turn the same
+way that I’m looking. See that blasted pine over there to your
+right, about six hundred there to the gully southeast of the tree.
+Got the line? Well, along there there’s a line of men hidden.
+Through the glass I can sometimes make out the flash of their rifles.
+Take the glass yourself, and see.”
+
+Dave Fulsbee snatched the binoculars, making a rapid survey.
+
+“Reade,” he admitted, “you have surely located that crowd.”
+
+“Now, go after them with your patent hay rake,” quivered Tom,
+feeling the full excitement of the thing in this tantalizing cross
+fire. Then the cub added, with a sheepish grin:
+
+“I hope you’ll scare ’em, instead of hitting ’em, Dave.”
+
+Fulsbee stepped over to his assistant. Between them they swung
+the machine gun around, the assistant wrenching off the canvas
+cover. Fulsbee rapidly sighted the piece for six hundred yards.
+The assistant stood by to feed belts of cartridges, while Dave took
+his post at the firing mechanism.
+
+Cr-r-r-r-rack! sounded the machine gun, spitting forth a pelting
+storm of lead. As the piece continued to disgorge bullets at
+the rate of six hundred a minute, Dave, a grim smile on his lips,
+swung the muzzle of the piece so as to spread the fire along the
+entire line of the main ambush.
+
+“Take the glass,” Tom roared in Harry’s ear, above the din. “See
+how Fulsbee is throwing up dust and bits of rock all along that
+rattled line.”
+
+Hazelton watched, his face showing an appreciative grin.
+
+“It has the scoundrels scared and going!” Hazelton yelled back.
+
+Fully fifteen hundred cartridges did the machine gun deliver up
+and down that line.
+
+Then, suddenly, Dave Fulsbee swung the gun around, delivering
+a hailstorm of bullets against the bald knob rock and the bushes
+to the right of it.
+
+“There’s the answer!” gleefully uttered Hazelton, who had just
+handed the glass back to his chum.
+
+The “answer” was a fluttering bit of white cloth tied to a rifle
+and hoisted over the bushes at the right of the bald knob.
+
+“Who do you suppose is holding the white cloth?” chuckled Tom.
+
+“I can’t guess,” Harry confessed.
+
+“Our old and dangerous friend Peter,” Tom laughed.
+
+“Bad Pete!”
+
+“No; Scared Pete.”
+
+There was a sudden twinkle in Hazelton’s eyes as he espied Dave
+Fulsbee’s rifle lying on the ground beside the machine gun.
+
+In another instant Harry had that rifle and was back at Tom’s
+side.
+
+Harry threw open the magazine, making sure that there were cartridges
+in the weapon. Then he dropped to one knee, taking careful sight
+in the direction of the white flag.
+
+“You idiot---what are you doing?” blazed Tom.
+
+The fire from the camp had died out. That from the assailants
+beyond had ceased at least thirty seconds earlier.
+
+One sharp report broke the hush that followed.
+
+“Who’s doing that work? Stop it!” ordered Fulsbee, turning
+wrathfully.
+
+“I’m through,” grinned Harry meekly.
+
+“What do you mean by shooting at a flag of truce?” demanded the
+deputy sheriff angrily.
+
+“I didn’t,” Harry argued, laying the rifle down on the ground.
+“I sent one in with my compliments, to see whether the fellow
+with the white rag would get the trembles. I guess he did, for
+the white rag has gone out of sight.”
+
+“They may start the firing again,” uttered Dave Fulsbee. “They’ll
+feel that you don’t respect their flag of truce.”
+
+“I didn’t feel a heap of respect for the fellow that held up the
+white flag,” Hazelton admitted, with another grin. “It was Bad
+Pete, and I wanted to see what his nerve was like when someone
+else was doing the shooting and he was the target.”
+
+“Peter simply flopped and dropped his gun, Tom declared.
+
+“Say,” muttered Harry, his face showing real concern, “I hope
+I didn’t hit him.”
+
+“Did you aim at him?” demanded Tom.
+
+“I did not.”
+
+“Then there _is_ some chance that Peter was hit,” Tom confessed.
+“Harry, when you’re shooting at a friend, and in a purely hospitable
+way, always aim straight for him. Then the poor fellow will have
+a good chance to get off with a whole skin!”
+
+“Cut out that line of talk,” ordered Hazelton, his face growing
+red. “Back in the old home days, Tom, you’ve seen me do some
+great shooting.”
+
+“With the putty-blower---yes,” Tom admitted, with a chuckle.
+“Say, wasn’t Old Dut Jones, of the Central Grammar, rough on boys
+who used putty-blowers in the schoolroom?”
+
+“If Pete was hit, it wasn’t my shot that did it,” muttered Harry,
+growing redder still. “I aimed for the centre of that white rag.
+If we ever come across the rag we’ll find my bullet hole through
+it. That was what I hit.”
+
+Deputy Dave’s assistant was now cleaning out the soot-choked barrels
+of the machine gun, that the piece might be fit for use again as soon
+as the barrels had cooled.
+
+“I reckon,” declared Dave, “that our friends have done their worst.
+It’s my private wager that they’re now doing a foot race for the
+back trails.”
+
+“Is any one of our fellows hit?” called Tom, striding over to
+the late firing line. “Anyone hit? If so, we must take care
+of him at once.”
+
+Tom went the length of the line, only to discover that none of
+the camp’s defenders had been injured, despite the shower of bullets
+that had been poured in during the brief but brisk engagement.
+Three of the engineers displayed clothing that had been pierced
+by bullets.
+
+“Dave,” called Tom, “how soon will it be safe to send over to
+the late strongholds and find out whether any of Naughty Peter’s
+friends have any hurts that demand Doc Gitney’s attention?”
+
+“Huh! If any of the varmints are hit, I reckon they can wait,”
+muttered Fulsbee.
+
+“Not near this camp!” retorted Reade with spirit. “If any human
+being around here has been hurt he must have prompt care. How
+soon will it be safe to start?”
+
+“I don’t know how soon it will be safe,” Dave retorted. “I want
+to take about a half dozen of the young fellows, on horseback,
+and ride over just to see if we can draw any fire. That will
+show whether the rascals have quit their ambushes.”
+
+“If they haven’t,” mocked Tom, “they’ll also show your little
+party some new gasps in the way of excitement.”
+
+Nevertheless Reade did not object when Fulsbee called for volunteers.
+If any new firing was to be encountered it was better to risk
+a small force rather than a large one.
+
+Harry Hazelton was one of the six volunteers who rode out with
+Deputy Dave. Though they searched the country for miles they
+did not encounter any of the late raiders. Neither did they find
+any dead or wounded men.
+
+The abandoned transits and other instruments and implements were
+found and brought back to camp.
+
+While this party was absent Tom took Mr. Newnham back to headquarters
+tent, where he explained, in detail, all that had been accomplished
+and all that was now being done.
+
+Late in the afternoon Dave Fulsbee and his little force returned. Tom
+listened attentively to the report made by the sheriff’s officer.
+
+“They’ve cheated you out of one day’s work, anyway,” muttered the
+man from Broadway, rather fretfully.
+
+“We can afford to lose the time,” Tom answered almost carelessly.
+“Our field work is well ahead. It’s the construction work that
+is bothering me most. I hope soon to have news as to whether the
+construction outfit has been attacked.”
+
+“The wires are all up again, sir,” reported the operator, pausing
+at the doorway of the tent. “The men you sent back have mended
+all the breaks. I’ve just heard from the construction camp that
+none of the unknown scoundrels have been heard from there.”
+
+“They found you so well prepared here,” suggested President Newnham,
+“that the rascals have an idea that the construction camp is also well
+guarded. I imagine we’ve heard the last of the opposition.”
+
+“Then you’re going to be fooled, sir,” Tom answered, very decisively.
+“For my part, I believe that the tactics of the gloom department of the
+W.C. & A. have just been commenced. Fighting men of a sort are to be
+had cheap in these mountains, and the W.C. & A. railroad is playing a
+game that it’s worth millions to win. They’re resolved that we shan’t
+win. And I, Mr. Newnham, am determined that we shall win!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+SHERIFF GREASE DROPS DAVE
+
+
+Tom’s prediction came swiftly true in a score of ways.
+
+The gloom department of the W.C. & A. immediately busied itself
+with the public.
+
+The “gloom department” is a comparatively new institution in some
+kinds of high finance circles. Its mission is to throw gloom
+over the undertakings of a rival concern. At the same time, through
+such matter as it can manage to have printed in some sorts of
+newspapers the gloom department seeks to turn the public against
+its business rivals.
+
+That same day news was flashed all over the country that a party
+of railway engineers, led by a mad deputy sheriff had wantonly
+fired on a party of travelers who had had the misfortune to get upon
+the building railway’s right of way.
+
+In many parts of Colorado a genuine indignation was aroused against
+the S.B. & L. President Newnham sought to correct the wrong impression,
+but even his carefully thought out statements were misconstrued.
+
+The W.C. & A., though owned mainly abroad, had some clever American
+politicians of the worst sort in its service. Many of these men
+were influential to some extent in Colorado.
+
+The sheriff of the county was approached and inflamed by some of
+these politicians, with the result that the sheriff hastened to the
+field camp, where he publicly dismissed Dave Fulsbee from his force
+of deputies. The sheriff solemnly closed his fiery speech by
+demanding Dave’s official badge.
+
+“That’s funny, but don’t mind, Dave,” laughed Tom, as he witnessed
+the handing over of the badge. “You won’t be out of work.”
+
+“Won’t be out of work, eh?” demanded Sheriff Grease hotly. “Just
+let him wait and see. There isn’t a man in the county who wants
+Dave Fulsbee about now.”
+
+“Then what a disappointed crowd they’re going to be,” remarked
+Tom pleasantly, “for Mr. Newnham is going to make Dave chief of
+detectives for the company, at a salary of something like six
+thousand a year.
+
+“He is, oh?” gulped down Sheriff Grease. “I’ll bet he won’t. I’ll
+protest against that, right from the start.”
+
+“Dave will be our chief of detectives, if you protest all night
+and some more in the morning,” returned Tom Reade. “And Dave,
+I reckon, is going to need a force of at least forty men under
+him. Dave will be rather important in the county, won’t he, sheriff,
+if he has forty men under him who feel a good deal like voting the
+way that Dave believes? A forty-man boss is quite a little figure
+in politics, isn’t he, sheriff?”
+
+Grease turned nearly purple in the face, choking and sputtering
+in his wrath.
+
+“Come along, Dave, and see if that job as chief detective is open
+today,” urged Tom, drawing one arm through Fulsbee’s. “If you’re
+interested in knowing the news, sheriff, you might wait.”
+
+“I’ll-----” ground out Grease, gritting his teeth and clenching
+one fist. Tom waited patiently for the county officer to finish.
+Then, as he didn’t go further, Reade rejoined, half mockingly:
+
+“Exactly, sheriff. That’s just what I thought you’d do.”
+
+Then Tom dragged Dave down to the headquarters tent, where they
+found the president of the road.
+
+“Mr. Newnham,” began Tom gravely, “the sheriff has just come to
+camp and has discharged Fulsbee from his force of deputies, just
+because Fulsbee acted as a real law officer and stopped the raid
+on the road. I have told Mr. Fulsbee, before Sheriff Grease, that
+you are going to make him chief of detectives for the road at a
+salary of about six thousand a year.”
+
+Mr. Newnham displayed his astonishment very openly, though he
+did not speak at first.
+
+“That’s all right,” replied President Newnham. “Mr. Fulsbee,
+do you accept the offer of six thousand as chief detective for
+the road,”
+
+“Does a man accept an invitation to eat when he’s hungry?” replied
+Dave rather huskily.
+
+“Then it’s settled,” put in Tom, anxious to clinch the matter,
+for he had a very shrewd idea that he would need Dave badly ere
+long. “Now, Mr. Newnham, until we get everything running smoothly,
+Mr. Fulsbee ought to have a force of about forty men. They will
+cost seventy-five dollars a month, per man, with an allowance
+for horses, forage, etc. Hadn’t Mr. Fulsbee better get his force
+together as soon as possible? For I am certain, sir, that the
+next move by the opposition will be to tear up and blow up our
+tracks at some unguarded points. At the same time, sir, I feel
+certain that we can get far more protection from Chief of Detectives
+Fulsbee’s men than from a man like Sheriff Grease.”
+
+“Reade?” returned President Newnham, “it is plain to be seen that
+you lose no time in making your plans or in arranging to put them
+into execution. I imagine you’re right, for you’ve been right in
+everything so far. So arrange with Mr. Fulsbee for whatever you
+think may be needed.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” murmured Tom. Then he signaled Fulsbee to get
+out of the tent, and followed that new official.
+
+“Never hang around, Dave, after you’ve got what you want,” chuckled
+Tom. “Hello, Mr. Sheriff! This is just a line to tell you that
+Fulsbee has a steady job with the company, and that he’ll need
+the services of at least forty men, all of whom must be voters
+in this county. The pay will be seventy-five a month and keep, with
+extra allowance for horses.”
+
+Sheriff Grease didn’t look much more pleasant than he felt.
+
+“Are you homeward bound---when you go?” continued Reade.
+
+The sheriff nodded.
+
+“Then you might spread the word that men are needed, and tell
+the best men to apply to Dave Fulsbee, at this camp,” suggested
+Tom. “Be strong on the point that all applicants have to be voters
+in this county.”
+
+“I will,” nodded the sheriff, choking down his wrath by a great
+effort. “Dave won’t have any trouble in getting good men when
+I spread the word. You’re a mighty good fellow, Dave. I always
+said it,” added the sheriff. “I’m sorry I had to be rough with
+you, but---but-----”
+
+“Of course we understand here that orders from a political boss
+have to be obeyed,” Tom added good-naturedly. “We won’t over-blame
+you, Mr. Grease.”
+
+The sheriff rode away, Tom’s smiling eyes following him.
+
+“That touch about your having forty voters at your beck and call
+must have stuck in the honorable sheriff’s crop, Dave,” chuckled
+the cub chief engineer.
+
+“I reckon it does,” drawled Dave. “A man like Grease can’t understand
+that a man of my kind wouldn’t ask any fellow working for him
+what ticket he voted for on election day. You certainly hit the
+sheriff hard, Mr. Reade. In the first place, six thousand a year
+is a lot more money than the sheriff gets himself. Forty voters
+are fully as many as he can control, for which reason Grease,
+in his mind’s eye, sees me winning his office away from him any day
+that I want to do so.”
+
+Ere three days had passed Sheriff Grease had lost fully half of
+his own force, and some of his controlled voters as well, for many
+of his deputies flocked to serve under Dave Fulsbee. The rest of
+the needed detectives also came in, and Dave was soon busy posting
+his men to patrol the S.B. & L. and protect the workers against any
+more raids by armed men.
+
+After a fortnight student Reynolds recovered sufficiently to be sent
+to Denver, there to complete his work of recovering from his wound.
+President Newnham also saw to it that Reynolds was well repaid for
+his services.
+
+The camp moved on. Soon Lineville was sighted from the advanced
+camp of the engineers. As Lineville was to be the western terminus
+of the new railroad the work of the field party was very nearly
+finished.
+
+President Newnham, who was all anxiety to see the first train run
+over the road, remained with the field engineers.
+
+“I couldn’t sleep at night, if I were anywhere else than here,”
+explained the president, “though I feel assured now that the W.C.
+& A. will make no more efforts, in the way of violence; to prevent
+us from finishing the building of the road.”
+
+“Then you’re more trustful than I am,” smiled Tom Reade. “What’s
+worrying me most of all is that I can’t quite fathom in what way
+the W.C. & A’s gloom department will plan to stop us. That they
+have some plan---and a rascally one---I’m as certain, sir, as I am
+that I’m now speaking with you.”
+
+“Has Fulsbee any suspicions?” inquired Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Loads of ’em,” declared Tom promptly.
+
+“What does he think the W.C. & A. will try to do?”
+
+“Dave’s suspicions, Mr. Newnham, aren’t any more definite than mine.
+He feels certain, however, that we’re going to have a hard fight
+before we get the road through.”
+
+“Then I hope the opposition won’t be able to prevent us from finishing,”
+murmured Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Oh, the enemy won’t be able to hinder us,” replied Tom confidently.
+“You have a Fulsbee and a Reade on the job, sir. Don’t worry.
+I’m not doing any real worrying, and I promise you that I’m not
+going to be beaten.”
+
+“It will be a genuine wonder if Reade is beaten,” reflected Mr.
+Newnham, watching the cub’s athletic figure as Tom walked through
+the centre of the camp. “I never knew a man of any age who was
+more resourceful or sure to win than this same cub, Tom Reade,
+whose very name was unknown to me a few weeks ago. Yet I shiver!
+I can’t help it. Men just as resourceful as Tom Reade are sometimes
+beaten to a finish!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+MR. NEWNHAM DROPS A BOMB
+
+
+The field work was done. Yet the field engineers were not dismissed.
+Instead, they were sent back along the line. The construction
+gang was still twelve miles out of Lineville, and the time allowed
+by the charter was growing short.
+
+At Denver certain politicians seemed to have very definite information
+that the S.B. & L. R.R., was not going to finish the building of
+the road and the operating of the first through train within charter
+time.
+
+Where these politicians had obtained their news they did not take the
+trouble to state.
+
+However, they seemed positive that, under the terms of the charter,
+the state would take over as much of the railroad as was finished,
+pay an appraisal price for it, and then turn the road over to
+the W.C. & A. promoters to finish and use as part of their own
+railway system.
+
+These same politicians, by the way, were a handful of keen,
+unscrupulous men who derived their whole income from politics, and
+who had always been identified with movements that the better
+people of the state usually opposed.
+
+Mr. Thurston and his assistant, Blaisdell, were now able to be
+up and to move about a little, but were not yet able to travel
+forward to the point that the construction force had now reached.
+Neither Thurston nor Blaisdell was in fit shape to work, and
+would not be for some weeks to come.
+
+Mr. Newnham, who had learned in these weeks to ride a horse, came
+along in saddle as Tom and Harry stood watching the field camp
+that was now being rapidly taken down by the few men left behind.
+
+“Idling, as usual, Reade?” smiled the president of the road.
+
+“This time I seem to have a real excuse, sir,” chuckled Tom.
+“My work is finished. There isn’t a blessed thing that I could
+do, if I wanted to. By tomorrow I suppose you will be paying
+me off and letting me go.”
+
+“Let you go---before the road is running?” demanded Mr. Newnham,
+in astonishment. “Reade, have you noted any signs of my mind
+failing lately?”
+
+“I haven’t, sir.”
+
+“Then why should you imagine that I am going to let my chief engineer
+go before the road is in operations”
+
+“But I was acting chief, sir, only of the field work.”
+
+“Reade,” continued Mr. Newnham, “I have something to tell you.
+Thurston has left our employ. So has Blaisdell. They are not
+dissatisfied in any way, but neither man is yet fit to work.
+Besides, both are tired of the mountains, and want to go east
+together as soon as possible and take up some other line of
+engineering work. So---well, Reade, if you want it, you are
+now chief engineer of the S.B. & L. in earnest.”
+
+“Don’t trifle with me, sir!” begged Tom incredulously. “I’m too
+far from home.”
+
+“No one has ever accused me of being a humorist,” replied Mr.
+Newnham dryly. “Now tell me, Reade, whether you want the post I
+have offered you?”
+
+“Want it?” echoed Tom. “Of course I do. Yet doesn’t it seem
+too ‘fresh’ in a cub like myself to take such a post?”
+
+“You’ve won it,” replied the president. “It’s also true that
+you’re only a cub engineer in years, and there are many greater
+engineers than yourself in the country. You have executive ability,
+however, Reade. You are able to start a thing, and then put it
+through on time---or before. The executive is the type of man who
+is most needed in this or any other country.”
+
+“Is an executive a lazy fellow who can make others work!” asked
+Reade.
+
+“No; an executive is a man who can choose other men, and can wisely
+direct them to big achievements. An executive is a director of
+fine team play. That describes you, Reade. However---you haven’t
+yet accepted the position as chief engineer of the S.B. & L.”
+
+“I’ll end your suspense then, sir,” smiled the cub. “I _do_ accept,
+and with a big capital ‘A’.”
+
+“As to your salary,” continued Mr. Newnham, “nothing has been
+said about that, and nothing need be said until we see whether
+the road is operating in season to save its charter. If we save
+our charter and the road, your salary will be in line with the
+size of the achievement.”
+
+“If we should lose the charter, sir,” Tom retorted, his face clouding,
+“I don’t believe I’d take any interest in the salary question.
+Money is a fine thing, but the game---the battle---is twenty
+times more interesting. However, I’m going to predict, Mr. Newnham,
+that the road WILL operate on time.”
+
+“I believe you’re going to make good, Reade, no matter what a
+small coterie of politicians at Denver may think. I never met
+a man who had success stamped more plainly on his face than you
+have. By the way, I shall ask you to keep Mr. Howe as an assistant.
+You still have the appointment of one other assistant, in place
+of Mr. Blaisdell.”
+
+“I know the fellow I’d like to appoint,” cried Tom eagerly.
+
+“If you’re sure about him, then go ahead and appoint him,” responded
+the president of the S.B. & L. railway.
+
+“Hazelton!” proclaimed Tom. “Good, old dependable Harry Hazelton!”
+
+“Hazelton would be a wise choice,” nodded Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Harry!” called Reade, as his chum appeared in the distance.
+“Come here hustle!”
+
+Mr. Newnham turned away as Hazelton came forward. Tom quickly
+told his chum the news.
+
+“I? Assistant chief engineer?” gasped Harry, turning red. “Whew,
+but that’s great! However, I’m not afraid of falling down, Tom,
+with you to steer me. What’s the pay of the new job!”
+
+“Not decided,” rejoined Tom. “Wait until we get the road through
+and the charter is safe.”
+
+“Never mind the wages. The job’s the thing, after all!” cried
+Harry, his face aglow. “Whew! I’ll send a letter home tonight
+with the news.”
+
+“Make it a small post card, then, concealed under a postage stamp,”
+counseled Reade dryly. “We’ve work ahead of us---not writing.”
+
+“What’s the first thing you’re going to do?” inquired Hazelton.
+
+“The first thing will be to get on the job.”
+
+“You’re going back to the construction force?”
+
+“I am.”
+
+“When?”
+
+“Well, we start within five minutes.”
+
+“Whew!”
+
+His face still aglow with happiness, Harry Hazelton bounded off
+to his tent. Tom called to one of the men to saddle two horses,
+and then followed.
+
+“You’re going back to the construction camp?” inquired Mr. Newnham,
+looking in at the doorway.
+
+“As fast as horses can take us, sir,” Tom replied, as he whipped
+out a clean flannel shirt and drew it over his head.
+
+“I’m going with you,” replied Mr. Newnham.
+
+“You’ll ride fast, if you go with us, sir,” called Tom.
+
+“I can stand it, if you can, Reade. Your enthusiasm and speed
+are ‘catching,’” replied the president, with a laugh, as he started
+off to give orders about his horse.
+
+“If the president is going with us, then we’ll have to take two
+of Dave Fulsbee’s men with us,” mused Tom aloud to his chum.
+“It would never do to have our president captured just before
+we’re ready to open the road to traffic.”
+
+The orders were accordingly given. Tom then appointed one of
+the chainmen to command the camp until the construction gang came up.
+
+Just seven minutes after he had given the first order, Tom Reade
+was in saddle. Hazelton was seated on another horse some thirty
+seconds afterward. The two railroad detectives rode forward,
+halting near by, and all waited for Mr. Newnham.
+
+Nor did the president of the S.B. & L. delay them long. During
+his weeks in camp in the Rockies the man from Broadway had learned
+something of the meaning of the word “hustle.”
+
+As the party started Tom ordered one of the detectives to ride
+two hundred yards in advance of the party, the other the same
+distance to the rear.
+
+“Set a good pace, and keep it,” called Tom along the trail.
+Shortly after dark the party reached the construction camp, which
+now numbered about five hundred men.
+
+Assistant Chief Engineer Howe appeared more than a little astonished
+when he learned that Tom Reade was the actual chief engineer of
+the road. However, the man who had been in charge so far of the
+construction work made no fuss about being supplanted.
+
+“Show me what part of the work you want me to handle,” offered
+Howe, “and you’ll find me right with you, Mr. Reade.”
+
+“Thank you,” responded Tom, holding out his hand. “I’m glad you
+feel no jealousy or resentment. There’s just one thing in life
+for all of us, now, and that is to win the fight.”
+
+Howe produced the plans and reports, and the three---for Hazelton
+was of their number---sat up until long after midnight laying out
+plans for pushing the work faster and harder.
+
+At four in the morning, while it was still dark, Tom was up again.
+He sat at the desk, going over the work once more until half
+past five o’clock. Then he called Harry and Howe, and the trio
+of chiefs had a hurried breakfast together.
+
+At six in the morning Mr. Newnham appeared, just in time to find
+Tom and Harry getting into saddle.
+
+“Not going to stay behind and sit in an easy chair this morning,
+Reade?” called the president.
+
+“Not this, or any other morning, sir,” Tom replied.
+
+“You amaze me!”
+
+“This construction work requires more personal attention, sir.
+I may have twenty minutes to dream, in the afternoon, but my
+mornings are mortgaged each day, from four o’clock on.”
+
+An hour later Mr. Howe joined Reade and Hazelton in the field.
+Tom had already prodded three or four foremen, showing them how
+their gangs were losing time.
+
+“If we get the road through on time, and save the charter,” Tom
+called, on leaving each working party, “every laborer and foreman
+is to have an extra week’s pay for his loyalty to us.”
+
+In every instance that statement brought forth a cheer.
+
+“Did Mr. Newnham tell you that you could promise that?” inquired
+Harry.
+
+“No,” said Tom shortly.
+
+“Then aren’t you going a bit far, perhaps!”
+
+“I don’t care,” retorted Tom. “Victory is the winning of millions;
+defeat is the loss of millions. Do you imagine Mr. Newnham will
+care about a little thing such as I’ve promised the men? Harry,
+our president is a badly worried man, though he doesn’t allow
+himself to show it. Once the road is finished, operating and
+safe, he won’t care what money he has to spend in rewards. He-----”
+
+Tom did not finish his words. Instead he dug his heels into his
+pony, bringing his left hand down hard on that animal’s flank.
+
+“Yi, yi, yi! Git!” called Tom, bending low over his mount’s neck.
+He drove straight ahead. Hazelton looked astonished for a space
+of five seconds, then started in pursuit of his chum and chief.
+
+It was not long ere Tom reined in, holding up a hand as a signal
+to Harry to do the same thing.
+
+“Here, hold my horse, and stay right here,” ordered the young chief.
+
+“Tom, what on earth-----”
+
+Tom Reade was already a hundred yards away, running in amid the
+brush. At last he halted, studying the ground earnestly. Then
+Reade disappeared.
+
+“One thing I know, anyway,” muttered the puzzled Hazelton, “Tom
+is not crazy, and he doesn’t dash off like that unless he has
+something real on his mind.” The minutes passed. At last Tom
+came back, walking energetically. He took his horse’s bridle
+and leaded into saddle.
+
+“Harry, ride back, hard, and send me two or three of the railroad
+detectives, unless you happen to meet some of them this side of
+the camp. I want the men on the rush. Don’t fail to tell ’em
+that.”
+
+“Any---er---explanations” queried Hazelton.
+
+“For you---yes---but don’t take the time to pass the explanation
+on to the men. Just hustle ’em here. When I started my horse
+forward it was because I caught sight of ’Gene Black’s head over
+the bush tops. I found a few of his footprints, then lost the
+trail. Send Dave Fulsbee along, too, if you have the luck to
+see him. I want ’Gene Black hunted down before he does some big
+mischief. Now---ride!”
+
+Harry Hazelton went back over the trail at a gallop.
+
+Not until he reached camp did he come upon Fulsbee’s men. These
+he hustled out to find Tom.
+
+Two hours later Reade came back over the trail, at a slow jog.
+The young chief engineer looked more worried than Hazelton had
+ever seen his chum look before.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE TRAP AT THE FINISH
+
+
+A number of days passed, days full of worry for the young chief
+engineer. Yet, outwardly, Tom Reade was as good-humored and cheery
+as ever.
+
+He was sure that his eyes had played him no trick, and that he
+really had seen ’Gene Black in the brush.
+
+The presence of that scoundrel persuaded Tom that someone working
+in the interests of the W.C. & A. Railroad Company was still employing
+Black in an attempt to block the successful completion of the
+S.B. & L.
+
+Moreover, the news that Dave Fulsbee received from Denver showed
+that two of the officials of the W.C. & A. were in that city,
+apparently ready to proceed to get possession of the rival road.
+
+Politicians asserted that it was a “cinch” that the new road would
+fall short of the charter requirement in the matter of time.
+
+“All this confidence on the part of the enemy is pretty fair proof
+that the scoundrels are up to something,” Tom told Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Or else they’re trying to break down our nerve so that we’ll
+fail through sheer collapse,” replied the president of the S.B.
+& L., rubbing his hands nervously. “Reade, why should there be
+such scoundrels in the world?”
+
+“The president is all but completely gone to pieces,” Reade confided
+to his chum. “Say, but I’m glad Mr. Newnham himself isn’t the
+one who has to get the road through in time. If it rested with
+him I’m afraid he’d fizzle. But we’ll pull it through, Harry,
+old chum---we’ll pull it through.”
+
+“If this thing had to last a month more I’m afraid good old Tom
+would go to pieces himself,” thought Harry, as he watched his
+friend stride away. “Tom never gets to his cot now before eleven
+at night, and four thirty in the morning always finds him astir
+again. I wonder if he thinks he’s fooling me by looking so blamed
+cheerful and talking so confidently. Whew! I’d be afraid for
+poor old Tom’s brain if anything should happen to trip us up.”
+
+Harry himself was anxious, but he was not downright nervous.
+He did not feel things as keenly as did his chum; neither was
+Hazelton directly responsible for the success of the big undertaking.
+
+Mile after mile the construction work stretched. Trains were
+running now for work purposes, nearly as far as the line extended.
+
+The telegraph wires ran into the temporary station building at
+Lineville, and the several operators along the line were busy
+carrying orders through the length of the wire service.
+
+Back at Stormburg, where the railroad line began, three trains
+lay on side tracks. These were passenger trains that were to
+run the entire length of the road as soon as it was opened.
+
+Back at Stormburg, also, the new general superintendent slept
+at his office that he might receive messages from President Newnham
+the more quickly.
+
+At Bakerstown a division superintendent was stationed, he, too,
+sleeping at his office.
+
+Once more Tom Reade had brought his work within sight of Lineville.
+In fact, the track extended all but the last mile of the line.
+Ties were down nearly all of the way to the terminal station.
+
+This was the state of affairs at two o’clock in the afternoon.
+Before midnight the last rail must be laid, and the first through
+train from Stormburg must run in. If, at the stroke of midnight,
+the first train had failed to go through, then the charter of
+the S.B. & L. would be forfeited and subject to seizure and sale
+by the state.
+
+Up from Denver some of the worst politicians had come. They were
+quartered at the new little hotel in Lineville. Dave Fulsbee had
+detailed three of his men covertly to watch these same politicians.
+
+Tom, inwardly consumed with fever, outwardly as cheery as human being
+might be, stood watching the laying of the rails over that last
+stretch. The men who could be prevented from dropping in their tracks
+must work until the last rail had been spiked into place. Away up in
+Lineville Harry Hazelton was personally superintending the laying of
+the last ties.
+
+The honk of an automobile horn caused Tom Reade to glance up.
+Approaching him was President Newnham, himself driving the runabout
+that he had had forwarded.
+
+“Reade!” called the president of the S.B. & L., stopping his car, and
+Tom went over to him.
+
+“The suspense is over, at last, Reade,” exclaimed Mr. Newnham, smiling
+broadly. “Look! the road is all but completed. Hundreds of men are
+toiling. The first train left Stormburg this morning. By seven tonight
+you’ll have the last rails in place. Between eight and nine this
+evening the first through train will have rolled into Lineville and we
+shall have won the fight that has brought me many gray hairs. At last
+the worry is over!”
+
+“Of course, sir,” nodded Tom.
+
+“Reade, don’t you really believe that the stress is over---that
+we shall triumph tonight?”
+
+“Of course we shall, sir,” Tom responded. “I have predicted,
+all along, that we’d have the road through in time, haven’t I?”
+
+“And the credit is nearly all yours, Reade,” admitted Mr. Newnham
+gleefully. “Nearly all yours, lad!”
+
+Honk! honk! Unable to remain long at one spot, Mr. Newnham started
+his car again.
+
+Reade felt a depression that he could not shake off.
+
+“It’s just the reaction following the long train,” Tom tried to
+tell himself. “Whew! Until within the last two or three days
+I haven’t half realized how much the strain was taking out of
+me! I’ll wager I’ll sleep, tonight, after I once have the satisfaction
+of seeing the first train roll in!”
+
+By six o’clock Tom felt as though he could hardly stand up. Be
+wondered if his teeth were really chattering, or whether he merely
+imagined it.
+
+To take up his time Tom tried a brisk canter, away from the railroad.
+At seven o’clock he rode into Lineville.
+
+“Tom, Tom!”, bawled Harry, from the centre of a group of workmen.
+“We’ve been looking for you! Come here quickly!”
+
+Tom urged his pony forward to the station from which Hazelton had
+called him.
+
+“Watch this---just watch it!” begged Harry.
+
+Clank! clank! clank! Tom Reade, gazing in fascination, saw
+the last spike of the last rail being driven into place.
+
+“Two sidetracks and switches already up!” called Harry.
+
+Tom threw his bridle to one of the workmen, then sprang from his
+horse. Out of the station came Mr. Newnham, waving a telegram.
+
+“Our first train, with passengers, has just left the station at
+Brand’s Ranch junction, a hundred and ten miles away,” shouted
+the president of the road. “The train should be here long before
+ten o’clock.”
+
+From the crowd a cheer greeted the announcement.
+
+“There’s nothing left but to wait to win,” continued Mr. Newnham.
+
+Five hundred voices in the crowd cheered the announcement. A
+group of five Denver politicians smiled sardonically.
+
+Tom pushed his way gently through the crowd, glancing inside the
+station. There was no one there, save an operator. Closing the
+door behind him, Tom crossed to a seat and sank wearily upon it.
+
+Here he sat for some minutes, to be discovered by the telegraph
+operator when the latter came out to light the lamps in the waiting
+room.
+
+“Mr. Reade is all in, I guess,” thought the operator. “I don’t
+wonder. I hope he goes to sleep where he sits.”
+
+Ten minutes later the receiver of one of the up the terminal station.
+The operator broke in, sending back his response. Then a telegram
+came, which he penned on paper.
+
+“Mr. Reade,” called the operator, “this is for you.”
+
+Tom sat up, brushing his eyes, and read:
+
+“If you can spare time wish you would ride down track to point
+about two miles west of Miller’s where brook crosses under roadbed.
+Have something to show you that will interest you. Nothing serious,
+but will fill you with wonder. My men all along line report all
+safe and going well. Come at once.” (signed) “Dave Fulsbee.”
+
+Tom’s first instinct was to start and tremble. He felt sure that
+Fulsbee had bad news and was trying to conceal the fact until
+he could see the young chief engineer in person.
+
+“But that’s really not Dave’s way,” Reade told himself in the
+next breath. “Fulsbee talks straight out from the shoulder.
+What has he to show me, I wonder! Gracious, how tired I am!
+If Fulsbee knew just how I feel at this moment he wouldn’t send
+for me. But of course he doesn’t know.”
+
+Stepping outside, Tom looked about, espying his pony standing
+where it had been tied to one of the porch pillars of the station.
+
+“I’ll get Harry to ride with me,” Reade thought, but he found
+his chum engaged in testing a stretch of rails near the station,
+a dozen of the college students with him.
+
+“Pshaw! I’m strong enough to ride five miles alone,” muttered
+Tom. “Thank goodness my horse hasn’t been used up. Never mind,
+Tom Reade. To-morrow you can ride as far as you like on the railroad,
+with never a penny of fare to pay, either!”
+
+Unnoticed, the young chief engineer untied his horse in the dark,
+mounted and rode away.
+
+How dark and long the way seemed. Truth to tell, Tom Reade was
+very close to the collapse that seemed bound to follow the reaction
+once his big task was safely over. Only his strength of will
+sustained him. He gripped the pony’s sides with his knees.
+
+“I wouldn’t want anyone to see me riding in this fashion!” muttered
+the lad. “I must look worse than a tenderfoot. Why, I’ll be
+really glad if Dave Fulsbee can ride back with me. I had no idea
+he was so near. I believed him to be at least fifty or sixty
+miles down the line.”
+
+Tom was nearing the place appointed when a sudden whistle rang
+out from the brush beside the track.
+
+Then half a dozen men leaped out into view in the darkness, two
+of them seizing the bridle of his horse.
+
+“Good evening, Reade!” called the mocking voice of ’Gene Black.
+“Down this way to see your first train go through? Stay with
+us, and we’ll show you how it doesn’t get through---not tonight!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+“CAN YOUR ROAD SAVE ITS CHARTER NOW?”
+
+
+“Oh, I guess the train will go through, all right,” replied Tom
+Reade, with much more confidence expressed in his tone than he
+really felt.
+
+“Stay with us and see it go through,” mocked ’Gene Black.
+
+“If it’s just the same to you I’d rather ride on,” Tom proposed.
+
+“But it isn’t all the same to us,” Black chuckled.
+
+“Then I guess I prefer to ride on, anyway.”
+
+“You won’t, though,” snapped Black. “You’ll get off that horse
+and do as we tell you.”
+
+“Eh?” demanded the young chief engineer. He appeared astonished,
+though he was not.
+
+“You came down the line to meet your railroad detective, Fulsbee,”
+Black continued sneeringly. “You’d better give it up.”
+
+“You seem to think you know a good deal about my business,” Tom
+continued.
+
+“I know all about the telegram,” ’Gene retorted. “I sent it---or
+ordered it sent.”
+
+Tom started in earnest this time.
+
+“Did you ever hear of ways of cutting out a telegraph wire and
+then attaching one of the cut ends to a box relay?” queried the
+scoundrel.
+
+“I---I believe I have heard of some such thing,” Reade hesitated.
+“Was that the trick you played on me?”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Gene Black. “We cut the wire just below here.
+We’ve got a box relay on the wire going both ways. Your operators
+can’t use the wire much tonight. Your company can’t use it from
+Lineville at all.”
+
+Tom’s face showed his dismay. ’Gene Black laughed in intense
+enjoyment.
+
+“So you cut the wire, oh, and attached box relays?”
+
+“Surely,” Black nodded.
+
+“I’m glad you confess it,” replied Tom slowly. “Cutting telegraph
+wires, or attaching box relays without proper authority is a felony.
+The punishment is a term in state’s prison.”
+
+“Bosh!” sneered Black. “With all the political pull our crowd
+has behind it do you suppose we fear a little thing like that?”
+
+“I’ll talk the crime over with Dave Fulsbee,” Tom continued.
+
+“A lot of good Fulsbee will do you,” jeered ’Gene. “We have him
+attended to as well as we have you.”
+
+“That’s a lie,” Reade declared coolly.
+
+“Do you want us to show him to you?”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Tom. “You’d have to show me Dave Fulsbee before
+I’d believe you.”
+
+“Yank the cub off that horse!” ordered ’Gene Black harshly.
+
+Three or four men seized Reade, dragging him out of the saddle
+and throwing him to earth. Tom did not resist, for he saw other
+men standing about with revolvers in their hands. He did not
+believe that this desperate crew of worthless characters would
+hesitate long about drilling holes through him.
+
+“Take the horse, you, and ride it away,” directed Black, turning
+to one of the men, who promptly mounted and rode off into the
+darkness. “Tie that cub’s hands behind him,” was Black’s next
+order. “Now, bring him along.”
+
+’Gene Black led the way back from the track and into the woods
+for a few rods. Then the party wheeled, going eastward in a line
+parallel with the track.
+
+Tom did not speak during the journey. It was not his nature to
+use words where they would be worse than wasted.
+
+After proceeding a quarter of a mile or so, Black parted the bushes
+of a dense thicket and led the way inside. At the centre the
+brush had been cleaned out, clearing a circular space about twenty
+feet in diameter and dimly lighted by a lantern placed in the
+centre of the inclosure.
+
+“A snug little place, Reade,” chuckled the scoundrel, turning about
+as Reade was piloted into the retreat. “How do you like it?”
+
+“I like the place a whole lot better than the company,” Tom answered
+promptly.
+
+“What’s the matter with the company?” jeered Black.
+
+“A hangman would feel more at home in a crowd like this.”
+
+“See here, cub! Don’t you try to get funny,” warned Black, his
+eyes snapping dangerously. “If you attempt any of your impudence
+here you’ll soon find out who’s master.”
+
+“Master?” scoffed Tom, his own eyes flashing. “Black, do you
+draw any comfort from feeling that you’re boss of such an outfit?
+Though I daresay that the outfit is better than its boss. However,
+you asked my opinion, and you got it. I’ll give you a little
+more of my opinion, Black, and it won’t cost you a cent.”
+
+He looked steadily into his enemy’s eyes as he continued:
+
+“Black, a good, clean dog wouldn’t willingly stand by this crowd!”
+
+Thump! ’Gene Blacks clenched fist landed in Reade’s face, knocking
+him down.
+
+“Thank you,” murmured Reade, as he sat up.
+
+“Much obliged, are you?” jeered Black.
+
+“Yes,” admitted Tom. “As far as it goes. That was a coward’s
+act---to have a fellow’s hands tied before daring to hit him.”
+
+Black’s face now turned livid with passion.
+
+“Lift the fool to his feet, if he wants to stand,” ordered Black
+savagely. “He’s trying to make me waste my time talking to him.
+Operator, call up Brewster’s and ask if he held the train as
+ordered by wire.”
+
+“Oho!” thought Tom. “So that’s your trick? You have the wire
+in your control, and you’re sending supposed train orders holding
+the train at a station so that it can’t get through You’re a worse
+scoundrel than I thought!”
+
+Off at the edge of the brush, on the inner side, a telegraph instrument
+had been set up on a barrel. From the instrument a wire ran toward
+the track.
+
+In another moment the sounder of the sender was clicking busily.
+There was a pause, then the answer came back:
+Click-click-click-clickety-click!
+
+The operator, a seedy-looking fellow over whose whole appearance
+was written the word “worthless,” swung a lantern so that the light
+fell on a pad of paper before him. Pencil in hand, he took off the
+message as it came.
+
+“Come over here and read it, sir?” inquired the operator.
+
+Black crossed, bending over the sheet. Despite himself the scoundrel
+started. Then he moved so that the light should not fall across
+his face. Plainly Black was greatly disappointed. He swallowed
+hard, then strolled back to the main group, of which Tom was one.
+
+“That’s the way to do business,” announced ’Gene Black, with a
+chuckle. “We sent fake train orders from the top of that barrel,
+and your own railroad operator handed the orders to the conductor
+of your through train. Therefore the train is switched off on
+to the side track at Brewster’s, and the engineer, under the false
+orders, is allowing his steam to cool. Now, do you believe you
+will get your train through tonight?”
+
+“Oh, yes!” yawned Tom coolly. “For you are lying. The message
+that came back over the wire from our operator at Brewster’s read
+in these words: ‘Showed your order to train conductor. He refused
+order, saying that it was not signed properly. Train has proceeded.’”
+
+It was an incautious speech for Tom Reade Black fairly glared into
+his eyes.
+
+“So you can pick up telegraph messages by the sounds” ’Gene demanded.
+
+“’Most anyone can who has ever worked over a telegraph key,” Tom
+admitted.
+
+Now that the secret was out, Black plainly showed his anger over
+the fact that the conductor had refused train orders at Brewster’s.
+“You S.B. & L. fellows have put up some trick to beat us off!” he
+declared, looking accusingly into Tom’s face.
+
+“What of it?” Reade inquired. “It’s our railroad, isn’t it? Can’t
+we do what we please with our own road?”
+
+“It won’t be your road after tonight!” Black insisted, grinding
+his teeth in his rage. “Fortunately, we have other ways of stopping
+that train from getting through. You’ll soon know it, too.”
+
+Black called to the tramp operator.
+
+“My man, call up the box relay fellow below here.”
+
+The sounder clicked busily for some moments. “I have the other
+box relay man,” declared the operator.
+
+“Then send this, very carefully,” Black continued hoarsely:
+“X-x-x---a-a-a---b-b-b.”
+
+The operator repeated it. Black nodded. Once more the instrument
+clicked.
+
+“The other box relay man signals that he has it,” nodded Black’s
+present operator.
+
+“Listen! Everyone of you! Not a sound in this outfit,” commanded
+’Gene Black.
+
+For fully three minutes the intense silence continued. Then Black
+turned again to the operator, saying:
+
+“Ask the other box relay man if anything has happened near him?”
+
+A minute later Black’s operator reported:
+
+“He says: ‘Yes; happened successfully.’”
+
+“Good!” laughed Black, a look of fierce Joy lighting up his eyes.
+“Now, Reade, I guess you’ll admit yourself beaten. An electric
+spark has touched off a charge of giant powder under the roadbed.
+The rails have been blown skyward and a big hole torn out of
+the roadbed itself. Even if you had a wrecking crew at the spot
+at this moment the road couldn’t be prepared for traffic inside
+of twenty-four hours. NOW, will your through train reach Lineville
+tonight? Can your road save its charter _now_?”
+
+Tom Reade’s face turned deathly white.
+
+’Gene Black stood before him, gazing tauntingly into the eyes
+of the Young Chief engineer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+BLACK’S TRUMP CARD
+
+
+“You scoundrel---you unhung imitation of Satan himself!” gasped
+Reade, great beads of perspiration standing out on his face.
+
+“Oho! We’re fools, are we?” sneered Black “We’re people whom
+you can beat with your cheap little tricks about a different signature
+for each station on the line, are we? For that was why the conductor
+refused the false order at Brewster’s. He has a code of signatures
+for train orders---a different signature to be used for messages
+at each station?”
+
+Black’s keen mind had solved the reason for the conductor’s refusal
+to hold his train on a siding. The conductor _had_ been supplied
+with a code list of signatures---a different one for each station
+along the line.
+
+“Now, you know,” mocked Black, enjoying every line of anxiety
+written on Tom Reade’s face, “that we have you knocked silly.
+You know, now, that your train can’t get through by tonight---probably
+not even by tomorrow night. You realize at last---eh?---that
+you’ve lost your train and your charter---your railroad?”
+
+“I wasn’t thinking of the train, or of the road,” Tom groaned.
+“What I’m thinking of is the train, traveling at high speed,
+running into that blown-out place. The train will be ditched
+and the crew killed. A hundred and fifty passengers with them---many
+of them state officials. Oh, Black, I wouldn’t dare stand in
+your shoes now! The whole state---the entire country---will unite
+in running you down. You can never hope to escape the penalty
+of your crime!”
+
+“What are you talking about?” sneered Black. “Do you think I’m
+fool enough to ditch the train? No, sir! Don’t believe it.
+I’m not running my neck into a noose of that kind. A cluster
+of red lights has been spread along the track before the blow-out.
+The engineer will see the signals and pull his train up---he
+has to, by law! No one on the train will be hurt, but the train
+simply can’t get through!”
+
+“Oh, if the train is safe, I don’t care so much,” replied Reade,
+the color slowly returning to his face. “As for getting through
+tonight, the S.B. & L. has a corps of engineers and a full staff
+in other departments. Black, you’ll lose after all your trouble.”
+
+“Humph!” muttered Black unbelievingly. “Your train will have
+to get through in less than three hours, Reade!”
+
+“It’ll do it, somehow,” smiled Tom.
+
+“Yes; your engineers will bring it through, somehow,” taunted
+Black. “We have the chief of that corps with us right now.”
+
+“That’s all right,” retorted Tom. “You’re welcome to me, if I
+can be of any real comfort to you. But you forget that you haven
+it my assistant. Harry Hazelton is at large, among his own friends.
+Harry will see the train through tonight. Never worry.”
+
+Click-click-click-click! sounded the machine on the barrel.
+
+“It’s the division superintendent at Lineville, calling up Brewster’s,”
+announced the operator.
+
+“Answer for Brewster, then,” directed Black. “Let us see what the
+division super wants, anyway.”
+
+More clicking followed, after which the operator explained:
+
+“Division super asks Brewster if through train has passed there.”
+
+“Answer, ‘Yes; twelve minutes ago,’” directed Black.
+
+The instrument clicked furiously for a few moments.
+
+“The division super keeps sending, ‘Sign, sign, sign!’” explained
+the operator at the barrel. “So I’ve kept on signing ‘Br,’ ‘Br,’
+over and over again. That’s the proper signature for Brewster’s.”
+
+Again the machine clicked noisily.
+
+“Still insisting on the signature,” grinned the operator uneasily.
+
+“Do you know the name of the operator at Brewster’s?” demanded
+’Gene Black.
+
+“Yes,” nodded the man at the barrel. “The operator at Brewster’s
+is a chap named Havens.”
+
+“Then send the signature, ‘Havens, operator, Brewster’s,” ordered Black.
+
+Still the machine clicked insistently.
+
+“Super still yells for my signature,” explained the man at the
+barrel desk. “He demands to know whether I’m really the operator
+at Brewster’s, or whether I’ve broken in on the wire at some other
+point.”
+
+“Don’t answer the division super any further, then,” snorted Black
+disgustedly.
+
+Tom, with his ability to read messages, was enjoying the whole
+situation until Black, with a sudden flash of his eyes, turned upon
+the cub chief engineer.
+
+“Reade,” he hissed, “you must know the proper signature for tonight
+for the operator at Brewster’s to use.”
+
+“Nothing doing,” grunted Tom.
+
+“Give us that signature the right one for Brewster’s.”
+
+“Nothing doing,” Tom repeated.
+
+“Put a pistol muzzle to his ear and see his memory brighten,”
+snarled the scoundrel.
+
+One of the hard-looking men behind Tom obeyed. Reade, it must
+be confessed, shivered slightly when he felt the cold touch of
+steel behind his ear.
+
+“Give us the proper signature!” insisted ’Gene.
+
+“Nothing doing,” Tom insisted.
+
+“Give us the right signature, or take the consequences!”
+
+“I can’t give it to you,” Tom replied steadily. “I don’t know
+the signature.”
+
+“You lie!”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+Tom had gotten his drawl back.
+
+“Do you want to have the trigger of that pistol pulled?” cried
+’Gene Black hoarsely.
+
+“I certainly don’t,” Tom confessed. “Neither do I doubt that
+you fellows are scoundrels enough to do such a trick. However,
+I can’t help you, even though I have to lose my life for my ignorance.
+I honestly don’t know the right signature for Brewster’s tonight.
+That information doesn’t belong to the engineering department,
+anyway.”
+
+“Shall I pull the trigger, Black?” asked the man who held the
+weapon to Reade’s head.
+
+“Yes; if he doesn’t soon come to his senses,” snarled Black.
+
+“I’ve already told you,” persisted Tom, “that I couldn’t give
+you the proper signature, even if I wanted to---which I don’t.”
+
+“You may be glad to talk before we’re through with you tonight,”
+threatened Black. “The time for trifling is past. Either give
+us that signature or else prepare to take the consequences. For
+the last time, are you going to answer my question?”
+
+“I’ve told you the truth,” Reade insisted. “If you won’t believe
+me, then there is nothing more to be said.”
+
+“You lie, if you insist that you don’t know the signatures for
+tonight!” cried Black savagely.
+
+“All right, then,” sighed Tom. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
+
+From off in the distance came the shrill too-oo-oot! of a locomotive.
+Tom Reade heard, and, despite his fears for his safety, an exclamation
+of joy escaped him.
+
+“Oh, you needn’t build any false hopes,” sneered Black. “That
+whistle doesn’t come from the through train. It’s one of the
+locomotives that the S.B. & L. had delivered over the D.V. & S.,
+which makes a junction with your road at Lineville. A locomotive
+or a train at the Lineville end won’t help your crowd any. That
+isn’t the through train required by the charter. The S.B. & L.
+loses the game, just the same.”
+
+“Oh, I don’t know,” Tom argued. “The S.B. & L. road was finished
+within charter time. No railroad can get a train through if the
+opposition sends out men to dynamite the tracks.”
+
+“Humph!” jeered Black maliciously. “That dynamited roadbed won’t
+save your crowd. The opposition can make it plain enough that
+your crowd dynamited its own roadbed through a well-founded fear
+that the tracks clear through weren’t strong enough to stand the
+passing of a train. Don’t be afraid, Reader the enemies of your
+road will know how to explain the dynamiting this side of Brewster’s.”
+
+“That’s a question for tomorrow, Black,” rejoined Tom Reade.
+“No man can ever tell, today, what tomorrow will bring forth.”
+
+Too-oo-oot! sounded a locomotive whistle again. One of the men
+in the thicket threw himself to the ground, pressing his ear to
+the earth.
+
+“There’s a train, or a locomotive, at least, coming this way from
+Lineville, boss,” reported the fellow.
+
+“A train?” gasped Black. Then his face cleared. “Oh, well, even
+if it’s a fully equipped wrecking train, it can’t get the road
+mended in time to bring the through train in before midnight,
+as the charter demands.”
+
+Now the train from Lineville came closer, and the whirr of its
+approach was audible along the steel rails. The engine’s bell
+was clanging steadily, too, after the manner of the engines of
+“specials.”
+
+’Gene Black crowded to the outer edge of the thicket, peering
+through intently. The bright headlight of an approaching locomotive
+soon penetrated this part of the forest. Then the train rolled
+swiftly by.
+
+“Humph!” muttered Black. “Only an engine, a baggage car and one
+day coach. That kind of train can’t carry much in the way of
+relief.”
+
+As the train passed out of sight the engine sent back a screeching
+whistle.
+
+“The engineer is laughing at you, Black,” jeered Tom.
+
+“Let him,” sneered the other. “I have the good fortune to know
+where the laugh belongs.”
+
+Toot! toot! too-oot-oot! Something else was coming down the track
+from Lineville. Then it passed the beholders in the thicket---a full
+train of engine and seven cars.
+
+“Good old Harry Hazelton!” glowed Tom Reade. “I’ll wager that
+was Harry’s thought---a pilot ahead, and then the real train!”
+
+“Small good it will do,” laughed ’Gene Black disagreeably.
+
+Then, a new thought striking him, he added:
+
+“Bill Hoskins, you and some of the men get the dynamite under
+the track opposite here. You know how to do it! Hustle!”
+
+“You bet I know how,” growled Bill eagerly, as he stepped forward,
+picking out the fellows he wanted as his helpers. “I’ll have
+the blast against the roadbed here ready in five minutes, Black.”
+
+“Now, you’ll have three trains stalled along the line tonight,
+Cub Reade,” laughed Black sneeringly. “Getting any train as
+far as this won’t count for a copper’s worth! Your road has
+to get a through train all the way into Lineville before midnight.
+We’ll blow out the roadbed here, and then where are you?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+
+At these words even the brief hope that had been in Tom Reade’s
+mind, died out.
+
+With the roadbed gone at this point also, he did not see the slightest
+chance for the S.B. & L. to save its charter or its property rights.
+
+“Here’s the racketty stuff,” went on Hoskins, indicating the boxes.
+“That small box has the fuses. Get the stuff along, and I’ll lay
+the magneto wire.”
+
+“Not quite so hastily!” sternly broke in a new voice.
+
+Tom Reade fairly yelled for joy, for the new speaker, as he knew
+at the first sound, was Dave Fulsbee.
+
+The amazed and dismayed scoundrels huddled closer together for a
+moment in the middle of the thicket.
+
+“Spread, men! Don’t let one of ’em get out alive!” sounded Dave
+Fulsbee’s voice.
+
+The scurrying steps of Fulsbee’s men could be heard apparently
+surrounding the thicket.
+
+With an exclamation of rage, Black made a dash for freedom.
+
+“Stand where you are, Black, if you want to live!” warned Dave.
+“No use to make a kick you rascals! We’ve got you covered, and
+the first man who makes a move will eat his breakfast in another
+world. Now, listen to me. One at a time you fellows step up
+to me, drop your weapons on the ground, where I can see you do
+it, and then come out here, one at a time. No tricks---for, remember,
+you are covered by my men out here. We don’t want to shoot the
+whole lot of you up unless we have to, but we won’t stand for
+any fooling. Reade, you come through first. Any man who offers
+to hinder Mr. Reade will be sorry he took the trouble---that’s
+all!”
+
+His heart bounding with joy, Tom stepped through the thicket,
+going straight toward the sound of Fulsbee’s voice.
+
+“I’ve got a knife in my left hand,” announced Fulsbee, as Tom
+neared him in the dark. “Turn around so that I can cut the cords
+at your wrists.”
+
+In a moment this was done.
+
+“You might stay here and help me,” whispered Dave. Tom nodded.
+
+“Now, Black, you can be the first,” called Dave in a brisk,
+business-like tone. “Step up here and drop your weapons on the ground.”
+
+Wincing under a bitter sense of defeat, ’Gene Black stepped forward.
+He was not really a coward, but he valued his life, little as it was
+actually worth. So he dropped a revolver to the ground.
+
+“What I have to say to you, Black, applies to the others,” Dave
+continued from outside the thicket. “If any man among you doesn’t drop
+all his weapons, we’ll make it lively for him when we get him out here.”
+
+A look of malignant hate crossed his face, then ’Gene Black dropped
+also a knife to the ground.
+
+“Come on out, Black,” directed Dave Fulsbee. “Mr. Reade, will
+you oblige me by running your hands over the fellow’s clothing
+to see if he, has any more weapons.”
+
+Tom promptly complied. A hasty search revealed no other weapons.
+
+“Now, step right along over there, Black, where you’ll find two
+of my men,” nodded Dave Fulsbee.
+
+Again Black obeyed. He saw, dimly, two men some yards further
+away in the darkness and joined them.
+
+Click-click! Then the scoundrel cried out in the bitterness of
+his rage, for the two railway detectives had handcuffed him.
+
+“You, with the black hair, next,” summoned Fulsbee, his vision
+aided by the lantern in the centre of the thicket. “You come
+here, but first stop and drop your weapons on the pile---all the
+trouble-makers you happen to have.”
+
+Thus they came, one at a time, the operator being the last of
+all. The crowd of prisoners under guard of the two railway detectives
+grew steadily, and each was handcuffed as he reached the detectives
+after having been searched by Tom Reade.
+
+“Good job,” nodded Dave coolly, as he am approached the captives.
+“Now, we have you all under lock and key. My, but you’re a
+pretty-looking outfit!”
+
+“Come on, men. March ’em up the track. Then we’ll come back,
+or send someone else after the dynamite and other stuff. That’ll
+be handy as evidence.”
+
+Guarded by Fulsbee and his two detectives, the prisoners marched
+along a few rods.
+
+“Mr. Reade,” called Dave, pointing, “you’ll find your horse tied
+to that tree yonder. I reckon you’ll be glad to get in saddle
+again.”
+
+Indeed, Tom was glad. He ran over, untying the animal, which
+uttered a whinny of recognition. In saddle, Tom joined the marching
+party.
+
+“You don’t seem to think us a very hard crowd to guard,” remarked
+’Gene Black curiously. “Why don’t you call off the men you posted
+around the thickets”
+
+“I didn’t post any,” Fulsbee answered simply. “I sent these two
+men of mine running around the thicket. Then they had to come
+together and attend to handcuffing you fellows.”
+
+“And were you the only man who had the drop on us?” gasped ’Gene
+Black.
+
+“I was,” Dave Fulsbee responded. “If you fellows hadn’t had such
+bad nerves, you could have escaped. But it’s an old story. When
+men go bad their nerves go bad with them.”
+
+As for Black’s followers, now that they knew the nature of the
+trick that had fooled them, several of them hung back.
+
+“You fellows needn’t think you can balk now,” observed Fulsbee
+grimly. “You’re all of you handcuffed, and there are enough of
+us to handle you. I promise you that, if anyone of you tries
+to run away, I won’t run after him until I’ve first tried dropping
+him with a shot.”
+
+So the party proceeded, and in time reached Lineville. There
+was great excitement in that little junction town when the citizens
+first heard of the dastardly work that the prisoners had attempted.
+
+Dave marched his captives into the waiting room of the station.
+All outsiders were ushered forth politely. Mr. Newnham was hurriedly
+summoned, and to him Tom Reade disclosed what he had learned of
+the work of enemies along the line. Naturally the president of
+the S.B. & L. was greatly excited.
+
+“We knew something was wrong, from the nature of the telegraph
+messages that came in,” cried Mr. Newnham. “It was your friend,
+Hazelton, who first suggested the idea of sending a full train
+down the line, with a short pilot train ahead.”
+
+“Good, great old Harry!” murmured Tom admiringly.
+
+Both Fulsbee and the president of the road tried to question ’Gene
+Black. That treacherous fellow, however, steadfastly refused
+to talk. Two or three of his gang were willing enough to talk,
+but they knew little, as Black had carried all his plans and schemes
+in his own head.
+
+“No matter!” muttered Dave Fulsbee. “My two men and I were close
+to that thicket for some time before we broke in on the affair.
+We heard enough to supply all the evidence that the courts will
+want against these worthies.”
+
+As the futile questioning was drawing to a close, ’Gene Black
+suddenly roused himself to say sneeringly:
+
+“Gentlemen, look at your station clock. It’s fifteen minutes
+before midnight. A quarter of an hour left! Where’s your through
+train? If it reaches here fifteen minutes from now it will be
+too late.”
+
+“Send a message down the line quickly,” gasped Mr. Newnham, turning
+pale. Then he wheeled savagely upon the prisoner, exclaiming:
+“I forgot, Black. You rascals cut the wires. We could have
+mended them at the nearer point, but the wires were cut, too,
+at the scene of the blow-out. Oh, but you have been a thorn in
+our sides!”
+
+From the crowd that still lingered outside came a cheer. Tom
+Reade sprang to the nearest door, throwing it open.
+
+“Listen!” he shouted.
+
+The sound that had started the crowd to cheering was repeated
+again.
+
+_Too-oo-oo-oot_!
+
+“It’s the train!” cried Reade joyously. “It can’t be more than
+two or three miles below here, either. It will get through on
+time!”
+
+With nine minutes to spare, the train rolled into the station
+at Lineville. It was not the same train that had left Stormburg,
+for that train had been halted, safely, just before reaching the
+scene of the disastrous blow-out. At that point the passengers
+had alighted and had been conducted on foot to the other side
+of the gap caused by the explosion. Here Hazelton’s Lineville
+special stood ready to convey them into Lineville. So the road
+had been legally opened, since the passengers from Stormburg---among
+whom was the lieutenant governor of the state had been brought
+all the way through over the line. Within the meaning of the
+law a through train had been operated over the new line, and within
+charter time.
+
+The S.B. & L. had won! It had saved its charter. On the morrow,
+in Wall Street, the value of the road’s stock jumped by some millions
+of dollars.
+
+Let us not forget the pilot train. That returned to Lineville
+in the rear of the passenger train. Though the pilot train had
+a conductor, Harry Hazelton was in real charge.
+
+“Look whom we have here, Tom!” called Harry from the open side
+door of the baggage car, as Reade raced up to greet his successful
+chum.
+
+A man, bandaged, injured and groaning, lay on the floor of the
+baggage car.
+
+“Why, it’s Naughty Peter, himself!” cried Tom. “Peter, I’m sorry
+to find you in this shape. I am afraid you have been misbehaving.”
+
+“We found him not far from the track, near the blow-out,” Hazelton
+explained. “Whether he attended to that bit of bad work all alone,
+or whether his companions believed him dead and fled for their
+own safety, I can’t learn. Bad Pete won’t say a word. He was
+unconscious when we first discovered him. Now he knows what’s
+going on around him, but he’s too badly hurt to do more than hold
+his tongue.”
+
+It was only when Bad Pete recovered his health---in jail---and
+found himself facing a long term in prison, that he was ready
+to open his mouth. He could tell nothing, however, beyond confessing
+that he and three other men, including an operator, had attended
+to the blow-out. Pete had no knowledge of the real parties behind
+the plot. He knew only that he had acted under ’Gene Blanks orders.
+So Bad Pete was shown no mercy, but sent behind the bars for
+a term of twenty-five years. Owing to Black’s stubborn silence
+the outrages were never traced back to any official of the W.C.
+& A.
+
+’Gene Black was sentenced to prison for thirty years. The other
+rascals, who had worked under his direction, all received long
+terms.
+
+The student engineers, wholly happy and well paid, returned to
+their college.
+
+The S.B. & L. is still under the same management, and is one of
+the prosperous independent railroads of the United States. Dave
+Fulsbee continues as the head of its detective system.
+
+Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton had made good in their first professional
+undertaking. They were paid in proportion to their services, and
+given the opportunity to retain their positions at the head of the
+railway’s engineering corps.
+
+For some time they kept their positions, filling them always with
+honor. Yet, in the end, the desire to do other great things in
+their chosen profession led them into other fields of venture.
+Their greatest adventures, their severest trials and deepest
+problems, as well as their gravest perils were still ahead of them
+in their path of duty.
+
+The Young Engineers were bound to go on and up, yet their way
+was sure to be a stormy one.
+
+We shall meet these fine young Americans again in the next volume
+of this series, which is published under the title, “The Young
+Engineers in Arizona; Or, Laying Tracks on the Man-killer Quicksand.”
+It is a rousing narrative of real people and real happenings.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12734 ***
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+ The Young Engineers in Colorado | Project Gutenberg
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12734 ***</div>
+COLORADO; OR, AT RAILROAD BUILDING IN EARNEST ***</div>
+
+
+
+<h1>The Young Engineers in Colorado<br><span class="small">or, At Railwood Building in Earnest</span></h1>
+
+
+<p class="center p2 big">By H. Irving Hancock</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<table class="autotable">
+<tr><th>CHAPTERS</th></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I. The Cub Engineers Reach Camp</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II. Bad Pete Becomes Worse</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III. The Day of Real Work Dawns</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV. “Trying Out” the Gridley Boys</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V. Tom Doesn’t Mind “Artillery”</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI. The Bite from the Bush</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII. What a Squaw Knew</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII. ’Gene Black, Trouble-Maker</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">IX. “Doctored” Field Notes?</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X. Things Begin to go Down Hill</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI. The Chief Totters from Command</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII. From Cub to Acting Chief</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII. Black Turns Other Colors</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV. Bad Pete Mixes in Some</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV. Black’s Plot Opens With a Bang</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI. Shut Off from the World</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII. The Real Attack Begins</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII. When the Camp Grew Warm</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX. Sheriff Grease Drops Dave</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX. Mr. Newnham Drops a Bomb</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI. The Trap at the Finish</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII. “Can Your Road Save Its Charter Now?”</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII. Black’s Trump Card</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV. Conclusion</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br><span class="small">THE CUB ENGINEERS REACH CAMP</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Look, Tom! There is a real westerner!” Harry Hazelton’s eyes
+sparkled, his whole manner was one of intense interest.</p>
+
+<p>“Eh?” queried Tom Reade, turning around from his distant view
+of a sharp, towering peak of the Rockies.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s the real thing in the way of a westerner,” Harry Hazelton
+insisted in a voice in which there was some awe.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe he is,” retorted Tom skeptically.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re going to say, I suppose, that the man is just some freak
+escaped from the pages of a dime novel?” demanded Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“No; he looks more like a hostler on a leave of absence from a
+stranded Wild West show,” Tom replied slowly.</p>
+
+<p>There was plenty of time for them to inspect the stranger in question.
+Tom and Harry were seated on a mountain springboard wagon drawn
+by a pair of thin horses. Their driver, a boy of about eighteen,
+sat on a tiny make-believe seat almost over the traces. This
+youthful driver had been minding his own business so assiduously
+during the past three hours that Harry had voted him a sullen
+fellow. This however, the driver was not.</p>
+
+<p>“Where did that party ahead come from, driver?” murmured Tom,
+leaning forward. “Boston or Binghamton?”</p>
+
+<p>“You mean the party ahead at the bend of the trail?” asked the
+driver.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; he’s the only stranger in sight.”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess he’s a westerner, all right,” answered the driver, after
+a moment or two spent in thought.</p>
+
+<p>“There! You see?” crowed Harry Hazelton triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>“If that fellow’s a westerner, driver,” Tom persisted, “have you
+any idea how many days he has been west?”</p>
+
+<p>“He doesn’t belong to this state,” the youthful driver answered.
+“I think he comes from Montana. His name is Bad Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pete?” mused Tom Reade aloud. “That’s short for Peter, I suppose;
+not a very interesting or romantic name. What’s the hind-leg
+of his name?”</p>
+
+<p>“Meaning his surnames” drawled the driver.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; to be sure.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know that he has any surname, friend,” the Colorado boy
+rejoined.</p>
+
+<p>“Why do they call him ‘Bad’?” asked Harry, with a thrill of pleasurable
+expectation.</p>
+
+<p>As the driver was slow in finding an answer, Tom Reade, after
+another look at the picturesque stranger, replied quizzically:</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon they call him bad because he’s counterfeit.”</p>
+
+<p>“There you go again,” remonstrated Harry Hazelton. “You’d better
+be careful, or Bad Pete will hear you.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope he doesn’t,” smiled Tom. “I don’t want to change Bad
+Pete into Worse Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>There was little danger, however, that the picturesque-looking
+stranger would hear them. The axles and springs of the springboard
+wagon were making noise enough to keep their voices from reaching
+the ears of any human being more than a dozen feet away.</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete was still about two hundred and fifty feet ahead, nor
+did he, as yet, give any sign whatever of having noted the vehicle.
+Instead, he was leaning against a boulder at the turn in the
+road. In his left hand he held a hand-rolled cigarette from which
+he took an occasional reflective puff as he looked straight ahead
+of him as though he were enjoying the scenery. The road—-trail—-ran
+close along the edge of a sloping precipice. Fully nine hundred
+feet below ran a thin line of silver, or so it appeared. In reality
+it was what was left of the Snake River now, in July, nearly dried
+out.</p>
+
+<p>Over beyond the gulch, for a mile or more, extended a rather flat,
+rock-strewn valley. Beyond that were the mountains, two peaks
+of which, even at this season, were white-capped with snow. On
+the trail, however, the full heat of summer prevailed.</p>
+
+<p>“This grand, massive scenery makes a human being feel small, doesn’t
+it?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>Harry, however, had his eyes and all his thoughts turned toward
+the man whom they were nearing.</p>
+
+<p>“This—-er—-Bad Pete isn’t an—-er—-that is, a road agent, is
+he?” he asked apprehensively.</p>
+
+<p>“He may be, for all I know,” the driver answered. “At present
+he mostly hangs out around the S.B. &amp; L. outfit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, that’s our outfits—-the one we’re going to join, I mean,”
+cried Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope Pete isn’t the cook, then,” remarked Tom fastidiously.
+“He doesn’t look as though he takes a very kindly interest in
+soap.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sh-h-h!” begged Harry. “I’ll tell you, he’ll hear you.”</p>
+
+<p>“See here,” Tom went on, this time addressing the driver, “you’ve
+told us that you don’t know just where to find the S.B. &amp; L. field
+camp. If Mr. Peter Bad hangs out with the camp then he ought
+to be able to direct us.”</p>
+
+<p>“You can ask him, of course,” nodded the Colorado boy.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after the horses covered the distance needed to bring them
+close to the bend. Now the driver hauled in his team, and, blocking
+the forward wheels with a fragment of rock, began to give his
+attention to the harness.</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete had consented to glance their way at last. He turned
+his head indolently, emitting a mouthful of smoke. As if by instinct
+his right hand dropped to the butt of a revolver swinging in a
+holster over his right hip.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope he isn’t bad tempered today!” shivered Harry under his
+breath.</p>
+
+<p>“I beg your pardon, sir,” galled Tom, “but can you tell us——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Who are ye looking at?” demanded Bad Pete, scowling.</p>
+
+<p>“At a polished man of the world, I’m sure,” replied Reade smilingly.
+“As I was saying, can you tell us just where we can find the
+S.B. &amp; L.’s field camp of engineers?”</p>
+
+<p>“What d’ye want of the camp?” growled Pete, after taking another
+whiff from his cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, our reasons for wanting to find the camp are purely personal,”
+Tom continued.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, tenderfoot, don’t get fresh with me,” warned Pete sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t an idea of that sort in the world, sir,” Tom assured
+him. “Do you happen to know the hiding-place of the camp?”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want of the camp?” insisted Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, sir, since you’re so determined to protect the camp from
+questionable strangers,” Tom continued, “I don’t know that it
+will do any harm to inform you that we are two greenhorns—-tenderfeet,
+I believe, is your more elegant word—-who have been engaged to
+join the engineers’ crowd and break in at the business.”</p>
+
+<p>“Cub engineers, eh, tenderfoot?”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the full size of our pretensions, sir,” Tom admitted.</p>
+
+<p>“Rich men’s sons, coming out to learn the ways of the Rookies?”
+questioned Bad Pete, showing his first sign of interest in them.</p>
+
+<p>“Not quite as bad as that,” Tom Reade urged. “We’re wholly respectable,
+sir. We have even had to work hard in order to raise money for
+our railway fare out to Colorado.”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete’s look of interest in them faded.</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” he remarked. “Then you’re no good either why.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s true, I’m afraid,” sighed Tom. “However, can you tell
+us the way to the camp?”</p>
+
+<p>From one pocket Bad Pete produced a cigarette paper and from another
+tobacco. Slowly he rolled and lighted a cigarette, in the meantime
+seeming hardly aware of the existence of the tenderfeet. At last,
+however, he turned to the Colorado boy and observed:</p>
+
+<p>“Pardner, I reckon you’d better drive on with these tenderfeet
+before I drop them over the cliff. They spoil the view. Ye know
+where Bandy’s Gulch is?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sure,” nodded the Colorado boy.</p>
+
+<p>“Ye’ll find the railroad outfit jest about a mile west o’ there,
+camped close to the main trail.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m sure obliged to you,” nodded the Colorado boy, stepping up
+to his seat and gathering in the reins.</p>
+
+<p>“And so are we, sir,” added Tom politely.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold your blizzard in until I ask ye to talk,” retorted Bad Pete
+haughtily. “Drive on with your cheap baggage, pardner.”</p>
+
+<p>“Cheap baggage, are we?” mused Tom, when the wagon had left Bad
+Pete some two hundred feet to the rear. “My, but I feel properly
+humiliated!”</p>
+
+<p>“How many men has Bad Pete killed?” inquired Harry in an awed
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t know as he ever killed any,” replied the Colorado boy,
+“but I’m not looking for trouble with any man that always carries
+a revolver at his belt and goes around looking for someone to
+give him an excuse to shoot. The pistol might go off, even by
+accident.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are there many like Mr. Peter Bad in these hills nowadays?” Tom
+inquired.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find the foothills back near Denver or Pueblo,” replied
+the Colorado youth coldly “You’re up in the mountains now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, are there many like Peter Bad in these mountains?” Tom
+amended.</p>
+
+<p>“Not many,” admitted their driver. “The old breed is passing.
+You see, in these days, we have the railroad, public schools,
+newspapers, the telegraph, electric light, courts and the other
+things that go with civilization.”</p>
+
+<p>“The old days of romance are going by,” sighed Harry Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you call murder romantic?” Reade demanded. “Harry, you came
+west expecting to find the Colorado of the dime novels. Now we’ve
+traveled hundreds of miles across this state, and Mr. Bad wore
+the first revolver that we’ve seen since we crossed the state
+line. My private opinion is that Peter would be afraid to handle
+his pistol recklessly for fear it would go off.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wouldn’t bank on that,” advised the young driver, shaking his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>“But you don’t carry a revolver,” retorted Tom Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Pop would wallop me, if I did,” grinned the Colorado boy. “But
+then, I don’t need firearms. I know enough to carry a civil tongue,
+and to be quiet when I ought to.”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose people who don’t possess those virtues are the only
+people that have excuse for carrying a pistol around with their
+keys, loose change and toothbrushes,” affirmed Reade. “Harry,
+the longer you stay west the more people you’ll find who’ll tell
+you that toting a pistol is a silly, trouble-breeding habit.”</p>
+
+<p>They drove along for another hour before a clattering sounded
+behind them.</p>
+
+<p>“I believe it’s Bad Pete coming,” declared Harry, as he made out,
+a quarter of a mile behind them, the form of a man mounted on
+a small, wiry mustang.</p>
+
+<p>“Yep; it is,” nodded the Colorado boy, after a look back.</p>
+
+<p>The trail being wider here Bad Pete whirled by them with a swift
+drumming of his pony’s hoofs. In a few moments more he was out
+of sight.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, you may have your doubts about that fellow,” Hazelton remarked,
+“but there’s one thing he can do—-ride!”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! Anyone can ride that knows enough to get into a saddle
+and stick there,” observed the Colorado boy dryly.</p>
+
+<p>Readers of the “_Grammar School Boys Series_” and of the “_High School
+Boys Series_”, have already recognized in Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton
+two famous schoolboy athletes.</p>
+
+<p>Back in old Gridley there had once been a schoolboy crowd of six,
+known as Dick &amp; Co. Under the leadership of Dick Prescott, these
+boys had made their start in athletics in the Central Grammar
+School, winning no small amount of fame as junior schoolboy athletes.</p>
+
+<p>Then in their High School days Dick &amp; Co. had gradually made
+themselves crack athletes. Baseball and football were their especial
+sports, and in these they had reached a degree of skill that had
+made many a college trainer anxious to obtain them.</p>
+
+<p>None of the six, however, had gone to college. Dick Prescott
+and Greg Holmes had secured appointments as cadets at the United
+States Military Academy, at West Point. Their adventures are
+told in the “_West Point Series_.” Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell,
+feeling the call to the Navy, had entered the United States Naval
+Academy at Annapolis. Their further doings are all described
+in the “_Annapolis Series_.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, however, had found that their aspirations
+pointed to the great constructive work that is done by the big-minded,
+resourceful American civil engineer of today. Bridge building,
+railroad building, the tunneling of mines—-in a word, the building
+of any of the great works of industry possessed a huge fascination
+for them.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was good-natured and practical, Harry at times full of mischief
+and at others dreamy, but both longed with all their souls to
+place themselves some day in the front ranks among civil engineers.</p>
+
+<p>At high school they had given especial study to mathematics.
+At home they had studied engineering, through correspondence courses
+and otherwise. During more than the last year of their home life
+our two boys had worked much in the offices of a local civil engineer,
+and had spent part of their school vacations afield with him.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, after graduating from school both boys had gone to New
+York in order to look the world over. By dint of sheer push,
+three-quarters of which Tom had supplied, the boys had secured
+their first chance in the New York offices of the S.B. &amp; L. Not
+much of a chance, to be sure, but it meant forty dollars a month
+and board in the field, with the added promise that, if they turned
+out to be “no good,” they would be promptly “bounced.”</p>
+
+<p>“If ‘bounced’ we are,” Tom remarked dryly, “we’ll have to walk
+home, for our money will just barely take us to Colorado.”</p>
+
+<p>So here they were, having come by rail to a town some distance
+west of Pueblo. From the last railway station they had been obliged
+to make thirty miles or more by wagon to the mountain field camp
+of the S.B. &amp; L.</p>
+
+<p>Since daybreak they had been on the way, eating breakfast and
+lunch from the paper parcels that they had brought with them.</p>
+
+<p>“How much farther is the camp, now that you know the way.” Reade
+inquired an hour after Bad Pete had vanished on horseback.</p>
+
+<p>“There it is, right down there,” answered the Colorado youth,
+pointing with his whip as the raw-boned team hauled the wagon
+to the top of a rise in the trail.</p>
+
+<p>Of the trail to the left, surrounded by natural walls of rock,
+was an irregularly shaped field about three or four acres in extent.
+Here and there wisps of grass grew, but the ground, for the most
+part, was covered by splinters of rock or of sand ground from
+the same.</p>
+
+<p>At the farther end of the camp stood a small wooden building,
+with three tents near try. At a greater distance were several
+other tents. Three wagons stood at one side of the camp, though
+horses or mules for the same were not visible. Outside, near
+the door of one tent, stood a transit partially concealed by the
+enveloping rubber cover. Near another tent stood a plane table,
+used in field platting (drawing). Signs of life about the camp
+there were none, save for the presence of the newcomers.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder if there’s anyone at home keeping house,” mused Tom
+Reade, as he jumped down from the wagon.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s only one wooden house in this town. That must be where
+the boss lives,” declared Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; that’s where the boss lives,” replied the Colorado youth,
+with a wry smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s go over and see whether he has time to talk to us,” suggested
+Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Just one minute, gentlemen,” interposed the driver. “Where do
+you want your kit boxes placed? Are you going to pay me now?”</p>
+
+<p>“Drop the kit boxes on the ground anywhere,” Tom answered. “We’re
+strong enough to carry ’em when we find where they belong.”</p>
+
+<p>“And—-yes: we are going to pay you now. Eighteen dollars, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied the young driver, with the brevity of the mountaineer.</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry went into their pockets, each producing nine dollars
+as his share of the fare. This was handed over to the Colorado
+youth.</p>
+
+<p>“’Bliged to you, gentlemen,” nodded the Colorado boy pocketing
+the money. “Anything more to say to me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing remains to be said, except to thank you, and to wish
+you good luck on your way back,” said Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“I wish you luck here, too, gentlemen. Good day.”</p>
+
+<p>With that, the driver mounted his seat, turned the horses about
+and was off without once looking back.</p>
+
+<p>“Now let’s go over to the house and see the boss,” murmured Tom.</p>
+
+<p>Together the chums skirted the camp, going up to the wooden building.
+As the door was open, Tom, with a sense of good manners, approached
+from the side that he might not appear to be peeping in on the
+occupants of the building. Gaining the side of the doorway, with
+Harry just behind him, Reade knocked softly.</p>
+
+<p>“Quit yer kidding, whoever it is, and come in,” called a rough
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>Tom thereupon stepped inside. What he saw filled him with surprise.
+Around the room were three or four tables. There were many utensils
+hanging on the walls. There were two stoves, with a man bending
+over one of them and stirring something in a pot.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Tom. “I thought I’d find Mr. Timothy
+Thurston, the chief engineer, here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nope,” replied a stout, red-faced man of forty, in flannel shirt
+and khaki trousers. “Mr. Thurston never eats between meals, and
+when he does eat he’s served in his own mess tent. Whatcher want
+here, pardner?”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re under orders to report to him,” Tom answered politely.</p>
+
+<p>“New men in the chain gang?” asked the cook, swinging around to
+look at the newcomers.</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe,” Reade assented. “That will depend on the opinion that
+Mr. Thurston forms of us after he knows us a little while. I
+believe the man in New York said we were to be assistant engineers.”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s only one assistant engineer here,” announced the cook.
+“The other engineers are Just plain surveyors or levelers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we won’t quarrel about titles,” Tom smilingly assured the
+cook. “Will you please tell us where Mr. Thurston is?”</p>
+
+<p>“He’s in his tent over yonder,” said the cook, pointing through
+the open doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“Shall we step over there and announce ourselves?” Tom inquired.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, ye could do it,” rejoined the red-faced cook, with a grin.
+“If Tim Thurston happens to be very busy he might use plain talk
+and tell you to git out of camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then do you mind telling us just how we should approach the chief
+engineer?”</p>
+
+<p>“Whatter yer names?”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade and Hazelton.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bob, trot over and tell Thurston there’s two fellows here, named
+Reade and Hazelnut. Ask him what he wants done with ’em.”</p>
+
+<p>The cook’s helper, who, so far, had not favored the new arrivals
+with a glance, now turned and looked them over. Then, with a
+nod, the helper stepped across the ground to the largest tent
+in camp. In a few moments he came back.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston says to stay around and he’ll call you jest as soon
+as he’s through with what he’s doing,” announced Bob, who, dark,
+thin and anemic, was a decrepit-looking man of fifty years or
+thereabouts.</p>
+
+<p>“Ye can stand about in the open,” added the cook, pointing with
+his ladle. “There’s better air out there.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you,” answered Tom briskly, but politely. Once outside,
+and strolling slowly along, Reade confided to his chum:</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, you can see what big fellows we two youngsters are going
+to be in a Rocky Mountain railroad camp. We haven’t a blessed
+thing to do but play marbles until the chief can see us.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can spare the time, if the chief can,” laughed Harry. “Hello—-look
+who’s here!”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete, now on foot, had turned into the camp from the farther
+side. Espying the boys he swaggered over toward them.</p>
+
+<p>“How do you do, sir?” nodded Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t you two tenderfeet mind your own business?” snarled Pete,
+halting and scowling angrily at them.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, I come to think of it,” admitted Tom, “it _was_ meddlesome
+on my part to ask after your health. I beg your pardon.”</p>
+
+<p>“Say, are you two tenderfeet trying to git fresh with me?” demanded
+Bad Pete, drawing himself up to his full height and gazing at
+them out of flashing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Almost unconsciously Tom Reade drew himself up, showing hints
+of his athletic figure through the folds of his clothing.</p>
+
+<p>“No, Peter,” he said quietly. “In the first place, my friend
+hasn’t even opened his mouth. As for myself, when I _do_ try
+to get fresh with you, you won’t have to do any guessing. You’ll
+be sure of it.”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete took a step forward, dropping his right hand, as though
+unconsciously, to the butt of the revolver in the holster. He
+fixed his burning gaze savagely on the boy’s face as he muttered,
+in a low, ugly voice:</p>
+
+<p>“Tenderfoot, when I’m around after this you shut your mouth and
+keep it shut! You needn’t take the trouble to call me Peter again,
+either. My name is Bad Pete, and I am bad. I’m poison! Understand?
+Poison!”</p>
+
+<p>“Poison?” repeated Tom dryly, coolly. “No; I don’t believe I’d
+call you that. I think I’d call you a bluff—-and let it go at
+that.”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete scowled angrily. Again his hand slid to the butt of
+his revolver, then with a muttered imprecation he turned and stalked
+away, calling back threateningly over his shoulder:</p>
+
+<p>“Remember, tenderfoot. Keep out of my way.”</p>
+
+<p>Behind the boys, halted a man who had just stepped into the camp
+over the natural stone wall. This man was a sun-browned, smooth-faced,
+pleasant-featured man of perhaps thirty-two or thirty-three years.
+Dressed in khaki trousers, with blue flannel shirt, sombrero
+and well-worn puttee leggings, he might have been mistaken for
+a soldier. Though his eyes were pleasant to look at, there was
+an expression of great shrewdness in them. The lines around his
+mouth bespoke the man’s firmness. He was about five-feet-eight
+in height, slim and had the general bearing of a strong man accustomed
+to hard work.</p>
+
+<p>“Boys,” he began in a low voice, whereat both Tom and Harry faced
+swiftly about, “you shouldn’t rile Bad Pete that way. He’s an
+ugly character, who carries all he knows of law in his holsters,
+and we’re a long way from the sheriff’s officers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is he really bad?” asked Tom innocently.</p>
+
+<p>“Really bad?” laughed the man in khaki. “You’ll find out if you
+try to cross him. Are you visiting the camp?”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade! Hazelton!” called a voice brusquely from the big tent.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s Mr. Thurston calling us, I guess,” said Tom quickly.
+“We’ll have to excuse ourselves and go and report to him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, that was Thurston,” nodded the slim man. “And I’m Blaisdell,
+the assistant engineer. I’ll go along with you.”</p>
+
+<p>Throwing aside the canvas flap, Mr. Blaisdell led the boys inside
+the big tent. At one end a portion of the tent was curtained
+off, and this was presumably the chief engineer’s bedroom. Near
+the centre of the tent was a flat table about six by ten feet.
+Just at present it held many drawings, all arranged in orderly
+piles. Not far from the big table was a smaller one on which
+a typewriting machine rested.</p>
+
+<p>The man who sat at the large table, and who wheeled about in a
+revolving chair as Tom and Harry entered, was perhaps forty-five
+years of age. His head was covered with a mass of bushy black
+hair. His face was as swarthy, in its clean-shaven condition,
+as though the owner had spent all of his life under a hot sun.
+His clothing like that of all the rest of the engineers in camp
+was of khaki, his shirt of blue flannel, with a long, flowing
+black tie.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston,” announced the assistant engineer, “I have just
+encountered these young gentlemen, who state that they are under
+orders from the New York offices to report to you for employment.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston looked both boys over in silence for a few seconds.
+His keen eyes appeared to take in everything that could possibly
+concern them. Then he rose, extending his hand, first to Reade,
+next to Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“From what technical school do you come?” inquired the engineer
+as he resumed his chair.</p>
+
+<p>“From none, sir,” Tom answered promptly “We didn’t have money
+enough for that sort of training.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston raised his eyebrows in astonished inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>“Then why,” he asked, “did you come here? What made you think
+that you could break in as engineers?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br><span class="small">BAD PETE BECOMES WORSE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Timothy Thurston’s gaze was curious, and his voice a trifle cold.
+Yet he did not by any means treat the boys with contempt. He
+appeared simply to wonder why these young men had traveled so
+far to take up his time.</p>
+
+<p>“We couldn’t afford to take a college course in engineering, sir,”
+Tom Reade continued, reddening slightly. “We have learned all
+that we possibly could in other ways, however.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you expect me, young men, to detail an experienced engineer
+to move about with you as instructor until you learn enough to
+be of use to us?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed, we don’t, sir,” Tom replied, and perhaps his voice
+was sharper than usual, though it rang with earnestness. “We
+believe, sir, that we are very fair engineers. We are willing
+to be tried out, sir, and to be rated exactly where you find that
+we belong. If necessary we’ll start in as helpers to the chainmen,
+and we have pride enough to walk back over the trail at any moment
+when you decide that we’re no good. We have traveled all the
+way from the east, and I trust, sir, that you’ll give us a fair
+chance to show if we know anything.”</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t take long to find that out,” replied Mr. Thurston gravely.
+“Of course you both understand that we are doing real engineering
+work and haven’t any time to instruct amateurs or be patient with
+them.”</p>
+
+<p>“We don’t want instruction, Mr. Thurston,” Hazelton broke in.
+“We want work, and when we get it we’ll do it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope your work will be as good as your assurance,” replied
+the chief engineer, with a slight twinkle in his eyes. “What
+can you do?”</p>
+
+<p>“We know how to do ordinary surveying, sir,” Tom replied quickly.
+“We can run our courses and supervise the chaining. We know
+how to bring in field notes that are of some use. We can do our
+work well within the limits of error allowed by the United States
+Government. We also consider ourselves competent at leveling.
+Give us the profile plan and the notes on an excavation, and we
+can superintend the laborers who have to make an excavation.
+We have a fair knowledge of ordinary road building. We have the
+strength of usual materials at our finger’s ends, and for beginners
+I think we may claim that we are very well up in mathematics.
+We have had some all-around experience. Here is a letter, sir,
+from Price &amp; Conley, of Gridley, in whose offices we have done
+quite a bit of work.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston took the letter courteously, though he did not
+immediately glance at it.</p>
+
+<p>“Country surveyors, these gentlemen, I suppose?” he asked, looking
+into Tom’s eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” nodded Reade, “though Mr. Price is also the engineer for
+our home county. Both Mr. Price and Mr. Conley paid us the
+compliment of saying that we were well fitted to work in a railway
+engineering camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we’ll try you out, until you either make good or convince
+us that you can’t,” agreed the chief engineer, without any show
+of enthusiasm. “You may show them where they are to live, Mr.
+Blaisdell, and where they are to mess. In the morning you can
+put these young men at some job or other.”</p>
+
+<p>The words sounded like a dismissal, but Blaisdell lingered a moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston,” he smiled, “our young men ran, first thing, into
+Bad Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes?” inquired the chief. “Did Pete show these young men his
+fighting front?”</p>
+
+<p>Blaisdell repeated the dialogue that had taken place between Tom
+and Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>The chief listened to his assistant in silence. Tom flushed slightly
+under the penetrating glance Mr. Thurston cast upon him during
+the recital.</p>
+
+<p>When the assistant had finished, the chief merely remarked: “Blaisdell,
+I wish you could get rid of that fellow, Bad Pete. I don’t like
+to have him hanging about the camp. He’s an undesirable character,
+and I’m afraid that some of our men will have trouble with him.
+Can’t you get rid of him?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll do it if you say so, Mr. Thurston,” Blaisdell answered quietly.</p>
+
+<p>“How?” inquired his chief.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll serve out firearms to five or six of the men, and the next
+time Pete shows his face we’ll cover him and march him miles away
+from camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“That wouldn’t do any good,” replied Mr. Thurston, with a shake
+of his head. “Pete would only come back, uglier than before,
+and he’d certainly shoot up some of our men.”</p>
+
+<p>“You asked me, a moment ago, Mr. Thurston, what I could do,” Tom
+broke in. “Give me a little time, and I’ll agree to rid the camp
+of Peter.”</p>
+
+<p>“How?” asked the chief abruptly. “Not with any gun-play! Pete
+would be too quick for you at anything of that sort.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t carry a pistol, and don’t wish to do so,” Tom retorted.
+“In my opinion only a coward carries a pistol.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you think Bad Pete is a coward, young man?” returned the
+chief.</p>
+
+<p>“If driven into a corner I’m pretty sure he’d turn out to be one,
+sir,” Tom went on earnestly. “A coward is a man who’s afraid.
+If a fellow isn’t afraid of anything, then why does he have to
+carry firearms to protect himself?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe that would quite apply to Pete,” Mr. Thurston
+went on. “Pete doesn’t carry a revolver because he’s afraid of
+anything. He knows that many other men are afraid of pistols,
+and so he carries his firearms about in order that he may enjoy
+himself in playing bully.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can drive him out of camp,” Tom insisted. “All I’ll wait for
+will be your permission to go ahead.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you can do it without shooting,” replied the chief, “try your
+hand at it. Be careful, however, Reade. There are plenty of
+good natural lead mines in these mountains.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes—-sir?” asked Reade, looking puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>“Much as we’d like to see Pete permanently out of this camp, remember
+that we don’t want you to give the fellow any excuse for turning
+you into a lead mine.”</p>
+
+<p>“If Peter tries anything like that with me,” retorted Tom solemnly,
+“I shall be deeply offended.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very good. Take the young men along with you, Blaisdell. I’ll
+hear your report on them tomorrow night.”</p>
+
+<p>The assistant engineer took Tom and Harry over to a seven by nine
+tent.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll bunk in here,” he explained, “and store your dunnage here.
+There are two folding cots in the tent, as you see. Don’t shake
+’em out until it’s time to turn in, and then you’ll have more
+room in your house. Now, come on over and I’ll show you the mess
+tent for the engineers.”</p>
+
+<p>This Blaisdell also showed them. There was nothing in the tent
+but a plain, long table, with folding legs, and a lot of camp
+chairs of the simplest kind.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s that tent, Mr. Blaisdell?” inquired Harry, pointing to
+the next one, as they came out of the engineers’ mess.</p>
+
+<p>“Mess tent for the chainmen and rod men laborers, etc.,” replied
+their guide. “Now, the fellows will be in soon, and supper will
+be on in half an hour. After you get your dunnage over to your
+tent amuse yourselves in any way that you care to. I’ll introduce
+you to the crowd at table.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry speedily had their scanty dunnage stored in their
+own tent. Then they sat down on campstools just outside the door.</p>
+
+<p>“Thurston didn’t seem extremely cordial, did he?” asked Hazelton
+solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, why should he be cordial?” Tom demanded. “What does he
+know about us? We’re trying to break in here and make a living,
+but how does he know that we’re not a pair of merely cheerful
+idiots?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve an idea that Mr. Thurston is always rather cool with his
+staff,” pursued Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“Do your work, old fellow, in an exceptionally fine way, and I
+guess you’ll find that he can thaw out. Mr. Thurston is probably
+just like other men who have to employ folks. When he finds that
+a man can really do the work that he’s paid to do I imagine that
+Thurston is well satisfied and not afraid to show it.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s that noise?” demanded Harry, trying to peer around the
+corner of their tent without rising.</p>
+
+<p>“The field gang coming in, I think,” answered Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s get up, then, and have a look at our future mates,” suggested
+Harry Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“No; I don’t believe it would be a good plan,” said Tom. “We might
+be thought fresh if we betrayed too much curiosity before the
+crowd shows some curiosity about us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade!” sounded Blaisdell’s voice, five minutes later. “Bring
+your friend over and inspect this choice lot of criminals.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom rose eagerly, followed by Harry. As they left the tent and
+hurried outside they beheld two rows of men, each before a long
+bench on which stood agate wash basins. The toilet preceding
+the evening meal was on.</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen,” announced Mr. Blaisdell, as the two chums drew near, “I
+present two new candidates for fame. One is named Reade, the other
+Hazelton. Take them to your hearts, but don’t, at first, teach them all
+the wickedness you know. Reade, this is Jack Rutter, the spotted hyena
+of the camp. If he ever gets in your way just push him over a cliff.”</p>
+
+<p>A pleasant-faced young man in khaki hastily dried his face and
+hands on a towel, then smilingly held out his right hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Glad to know you, Reade,” he laughed. “Hope you’ll like us and
+decide to stay.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton,” continued the announcer, “shake hands with Slim Morris,
+whether he’ll let you or not. And here’s Matt Rice. We usually
+call him ‘Mister’ Rice, for he’s extremely talented. He knows
+how to play the banjo.”</p>
+
+<p>The assistant engineer then turned away, while one young man,
+at the farther end of the long wash bench stood unpresented.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, on second thoughts,” continued Blaisdell, “I’ll introduce
+you to Joe Grant.”</p>
+
+<p>The last young man came forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Joe used to be a good fellow—-once,” added the assistant engineer.
+“In these days, however, you want to keep your dunnage boxes
+locked. Joe’s specialty is stealing fancy ties—-neckties, I
+mean.”</p>
+
+<p>Joe laughed good-humoredly as he shook hands, adding:</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll tell you all about Blaisdell himself, boys, one of these
+days, but not now. It’s too far from pay day, and old Blaze stands
+in too thickly with the chief.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you folks don’t come into supper soon,” growled the voice
+of the cook, Jake Wren, from the doorway of the engineer’s mess
+tent, “I’ll eat your grub myself.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’d do it, too,” groaned Slim Morris, a young man who nevertheless
+weighed more than two hundred pounds. “Blaze, won’t you take
+us inside and put us in our high chairs?”</p>
+
+<p>There was infinite good humor in this small force of field engineers.
+As was afterwards learned, all of them were graduates either
+of colleges or of scientific schools but not one of them affected
+any superiority over the young newcomers.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the party had seated themselves there was a step outside,
+and Bad Pete stalked in looking decidedly sulky.</p>
+
+<p>“Evening,” he grunted, and helped himself to a seat at the table.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade and Hazelton, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Pete,
+I believe?” asked Blaisdell, without the trace of a smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” growled Pete, not looking up, for the first supply of food
+was on the table.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve had the pleasure, twice today, of meeting Mr. Peter,” replied
+Tom, with equal gravity.</p>
+
+<p>“See here, tenderfoot,” scowled Bad Pete, looking up from his
+plate, “don’t you call me ‘Peter’ again. Savvy?”</p>
+
+<p>“We don’t know your other name, sir,” rejoined Tom, eyeing the
+bad man with every outward sign of courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m just plain Pete. Savvy that?</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, Plain Pete,” Reade nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Pete dropped his soup spoon with a clatter letting his right hand
+fall to the holster.</p>
+
+<p>“Be quiet, Pete,” warned Blaisdell, his eyes shooting a cold glance
+at the angry man. “Reade is a newcomer, not used to our ways
+yet. Remember that this is a gentleman’s club.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then let him get out,” warned Pete blackly.</p>
+
+<p>“He belongs here by right, Pete, and you’re a guest. Of course we
+enjoy having you here with us, but, if you don’t care to take us
+as you find us, the fellows in the chainmen’s mess will be glad to
+have you join them.”</p>
+
+<p>“That tenderfoot is only a boy,” growled Pete. “If he can’t hold
+his tongue when men are around, then I’ll teach him how.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade hasn’t done anything to offend you,” returned Blaisdell,
+half sternly, half goodhumoredly. “You let him alone, and he’ll
+let you alone. I’m sure of that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Blaisdell, if you don’t see that I’m treated right in this mess,
+I’ll teach you something, too,” flared Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Threatening the president of the mess is a breach of courtesy
+on the part of any guest who attempts it,” spoke Blaisdell again.
+“Gentlemen, what is your pleasure?”</p>
+
+<p>“I move,” suggested Slim Morris quietly, “that Pete be considered
+no longer a member or guest of this mess.”</p>
+
+<p>“Second the motion,” cried Rutter, Rice and Grant together.</p>
+
+<p>“The motion appears to have been carried, without the necessity
+for putting it,” declared Mr. Blaisdell. “Pete, you have heard
+the pleasure of the mess.”</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” scowled Bad Pete, picking up his soup plate and draining it.</p>
+
+<p>Jake Wren, at this moment, entered with a big platter of roast
+beef, Bob, the helper, following with dishes of vegetables. Then
+Bob came in with plates, which he placed before Blaisdell. The
+latter counted the plates, finding eight.</p>
+
+<p>“We shan’t need this plate, Bob,” declared Blaisdell evenly, handing
+it back. Then he began to carve.</p>
+
+<p>“Put that plate back with the rest, Bob, you pop-eyed coyote,”
+ordered Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>Bob, looking uneasy, started to do so, but Blaisdell waved him
+away. At that instant Jake Wren came back into the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“For the present, Jake,” went on the assistant engineer, “serve
+only for seven in this tent. Pete is leaving us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean——-” flared Pete, leaping to his feet and striding
+toward the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“I mean,” responded Blaisdell, without looking up, “that we hope
+the chainmen’s mess will take you on. But if they don’t like
+you, they don’t have to do so.”</p>
+
+<p>For ten seconds, while Pete stood glaring at Blaisdell, it looked
+as though the late guest would draw his revolver. Pete was swallowing
+hard, his face having turned lead color.</p>
+
+<p>“Won’t you oblige us by going at once, Pete?” inquired Blaisdell
+coolly.</p>
+
+<p>“Not until I’ve settled my score here,” snarled the fellow. “Not
+until I’ve evened up with you, you——-”</p>
+
+<p>At the same time Pete reached for his revolver in evident earnest.
+Both his words and his movement were nipped short.</p>
+
+<p>Morris and Rice were the only men in the engineers’ party who
+carried revolvers. They carried weapons, in the day time, for
+protection against a very real foe, the Rocky Mountain rattlesnakes,
+which infested the territory through which the engineers were
+then working.</p>
+
+<p>Both these engineers reached swiftly for their weapons.</p>
+
+<p>Before they could produce them, however, or ore Pete could finish
+what he was saying, Tom Reade leaped up from his campstool, closing
+in behind the bad man.</p>
+
+<p>“Ow-ow! Ouch!” yelled Pete. “Let go, you painted coyote.”</p>
+
+<p>“Walk right out of the tent, and I shall rejoice to let you depart,”
+responded Tom steadily.</p>
+
+<p>Standing behind the fellow, he had, with his strong, wiry fingers,
+gripped Pete hard right over the biceps muscle of each arm. Like
+many another of his type Pete had developed no great amount of
+bodily strength. Though he struggled furiously, he was unable
+to wrench himself free from this youth who had trained hard in
+football training squads.</p>
+
+<p>“Step outside and cool off, Peter,” advised Tom, thrusting the
+bad man through the doorway. “Have too much pride, man, to force
+yourself on people who don’t want your company.”</p>
+
+<p>Reade ran his foe outside a dozen feet, then released him, turning
+and reentering the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“No, you don’t! Put up your pistol,” sounded the warning voice
+of Cook Jake Wren outside. “You take a shot at that young feller,
+Pete, and I’ll never serve you another mouthful as long as I’m
+in the Rockies!”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete gazed fiercely toward the engineers’ tent, hesitated
+a moment, and then walked wrathfully away.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br><span class="small">THE DAY OF REAL WORK DAWNS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The meal was finished in peace after that. It was so hearty a
+meal that Tom and Harry, who had not yet acquired the keen edge
+of appetite that comes to hard workers in the Rockies, had finished
+long before any one else.</p>
+
+<p>“You fellers had better hurry up,” commanded Jake Wren finally.
+“It’ll soon be dark, and I’m not going to furnish candles.”</p>
+
+<p>As the cook was an autocrat in camp, the engineers meekly called
+for more pie and coffee, disposed of it and strolled out of the
+mess tent over to their own little village under canvas.</p>
+
+<p>“Bring over your banjo, Matt,” urged Joe. “Nothing like the merry
+old twang to make the new boys feel at home in our school.”</p>
+
+<p>Rice needed no further urging. As darkness came down a volume
+of song rang out.</p>
+
+<p>“What time do we turn out in the morning?” Tom asked, as Mr.
+Blaisdell brought over a camp stool and sat near them.</p>
+
+<p>“At five sharp,” responded the assistant engineer. “An hour later
+we hit the long trail in earnest. This isn’t an idling camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad it isn’t,” Reade nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Then Blaisdell chatted with the boys, drawing out of them what
+they knew, or thought they knew, of civil engineering, especially
+as applied to railroad building.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you lads are going to make good,” said Blaisdell earnestly.
+“We’re in something of a fix on this work at best, and we need
+even more than we have, of the very best hustling engineers that
+can be found.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am beginning to wonder,” said Tom, “how, when you have such
+need of men of long training, your New York office ever came to
+pick us out.”</p>
+
+<p>“Because,” replied the assistant candidly, “the New York office
+doesn’t know the difference between an engineer and a railroad
+tie. Tim Thurston has been making a long yell at the New York
+offices of the company for engineers. Knowing the little that
+they do, our New York owners take anyone who says he’s an engineer,
+and unload the stranger on us.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope we prove up to the work,” sighed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re going to size up. We’ve got to, and that’s all there is
+to it,” retorted Tom. “We’ve been thrown in the water here, Harry,
+and we’ve got to swim—-which means that we’re going to do so.
+Mr. Blaisdell,” turning to the assistant, “you needn’t worry
+as to whether we’re going to make good. We _shall_!”</p>
+
+<p>“I like your spirit, at any rate, and I’ve a notion that you’re
+going to win through,” remarked the assistant.</p>
+
+<p>“You try out a lot of men here, don’t you?” asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“A good many,” assented Blaisdell.</p>
+
+<p>“From what I heard at table,” Hazelton continued, “Mr. Thurston
+drops a good many of the new men after trying them.”</p>
+
+<p>“He doesn’t drop any man that he doesn’t have to drop,” returned
+Blaisdell. “Tim Thurston wants every competent man that he can
+get here. Let me see——-”</p>
+
+<p>Blaisdell did some silent counting on his fingers. Then he went
+on:</p>
+
+<p>“In the last eleven weeks, Thurston has dropped just sixteen new
+men.”</p>
+
+<p>“Whew!” gasped Harry, casting a sidelong glance at his shoes,
+with visions of a coming walk at least as far back as Denver or
+Pueblo.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston isn’t going to drop us,” Tom declared. “Mr. Blaisdell,
+Hazelton and I are here and we’re going to hang on if we have
+to do it with our teeth. We’re going to know how to do what’s
+required of us if we have to stay up all night finding out. We’ve
+just got to make good, for we haven’t any money with which to
+get home or anywhere else. Besides, if we can’t make good here
+we’re not fit to be tried out anywhere else.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re in an especially hard fix, you see,” the assistant engineer
+explained. “When we got our charter something less than two years
+ago we undertook to have every mile of track ballasted and laid
+on the S.B. &amp; L., and trains running through, by September 30th
+of this year. There are three hundred and fifty-four miles of
+road in all. Now, in July, less than three months from the time,
+this camp is forty-nine miles from the terminus of the road at
+Loadstone, while the constructing engineers and the track-layers
+are thirty-eight miles behind us. Do you see the problem?”</p>
+
+<p>“You can get an extension of time, can’t you?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“We can—-_not_! You see, boys, the S.B. &amp; L. is the popular
+road. That is, it’s the one that the people of this state backed
+in the main. When we got our charter from the legislature there
+was a lot of opposition from the W.C. &amp; A. railroad. That organization
+wishes to add to their road, using the very locations that our
+preliminary engineering force selected for the S.B. &amp; L. The
+W.C. &amp; A. folks have such a bewildering number of millions at
+their back that they would have won away from us, had they been
+an American crowd. The W.C. &amp; A. has only American officers
+and a few small stockholders in this country. The W.C. &amp; A.
+is a foreign crowd throughout in reality, and back of them they
+have about all the money that’s loose in London, Paris and Berlin.
+The W.C. &amp; A. spent a lot of money at the state capital, I guess,
+for it was common report that some of the members of the legislature
+had sold out to the foreign crowd. So, though public clamor carried
+our charter through the legislature by sheer force, the best concession
+we could get was that our road must be built and in operation
+over the entire length by September 30th, or the state has the
+privilege of taking over our road at an appraised value. Do you
+see what that means?”</p>
+
+<p>“Does it mean that the state would then turn around and sell this
+road to the W.C. &amp; A. at a good profit?” asked Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve hit it,” nodded Mr. Blaisdell. “The W.C. &amp; A. would be
+delighted to take over our road at a price paid to the state that
+would give Colorado quite a few millions in profits. The legislature
+would then have a chance to spend those millions on public improvements
+in the state. I think you will understand why public clamor now
+seems to have swung about in favor of the W.C.&amp; A.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yet it seems to me,” put in Harry, “that, even if the S.B. &amp; L.
+does fail to get the railroad through in time, the stockholders
+will get their money back when the state takes the road over.”</p>
+
+<p>“That, one can never count on,” retorted Blaisdell, shaking his
+head. “The state courts would have charge of the appraising of
+the value of the road, and one can never tell just what courts
+will award. Ten chances to one the appraisal wouldn’t cover more
+than fifty per cent. of what the S.B. &amp; L. has expended, and
+thus our company would be many millions of dollars out of pocket.
+Besides, if the courts could be depended upon to appraise this
+uncompleted road at twenty per cent. more than has been expended
+upon it, our company would still lose, for what the S.B. &amp; L.
+really expects to do is to bag the big profits that can be made
+out of the section of the state that this road taps. Take it
+from me, boys, the officials of this road are crazy with anxiety
+to get the road through in time, and not lose the many millions
+that are waiting to be earned by the S.B. &amp; L. getting this road
+through is all that Tim Thurston dreams of, by night or day.
+His reputation—-and he has a big one in railroad building—-is
+wholly at stake on his carrying this job through. It’ll be a
+big prize for all of us, professionally, if we can back Thurston’s
+fight to win.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll back it to win,” glowed Tom ardently “Mr. Blaisdell, I am
+well aware that I’m hardly more than the lens cap on a transit
+in this outfit, but I’m going to do every ounce of my individual
+share to see this road through and running on time, and I’ll carry
+as much of any other man’s burden as I can load onto my shoulders!”</p>
+
+<p>“Good!” chuckled Blaisdell, holding out his hand. “I see that
+you’re one of us, heart and soul, Reade. What have you to say,
+Hazelton?”</p>
+
+<p>“I always let Tom do my talking, because he can do it better,”
+smiled Harry. “At the same time, I’ve known Tom Reade for a good
+many years, and his performance is always as good as his promise.
+As for me, Mr. Blaisdell, I’ve just told you that Tom does my
+talking, but I back up all that he promises for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pinkitty-plank-plink!” twanged Matt Rice’s banjo, starting into
+another rollicking air.</p>
+
+<p>“I guess it’s taps, boys,” called Blaisdell in his low but resonant
+voice. “Look at the chief’s tent; he’s putting out his candles now.”</p>
+
+<p>A glance at the gradually darkening walls of the chief engineers
+big tent showed that this was the case.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll all turn in,” nodded Blaisdell.</p>
+
+<p>So Tom and Harry hastened to their tent, where they unfolded their
+camp cots and set them up. There was not much bed-making. The
+body of the cot was of canvas, and required no mattress. From
+out of their baggage each took a small pillow and pair of blankets.
+At this altitude the night was already rather chilly, despite
+the fact that it was July.</p>
+
+<p>Rapidly undressing in the dark the young engineers crawled in
+between their blankets.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, at last,” murmured Harry, “we’re engineers in earnest.
+That is,” he added rather wistfully, “if we last.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve got to last,” replied Tom in a low voice, hardly above
+a whisper, “and we’re going to. Harry, we’ve left behind us the
+playtime of boyhood, and we’re beginning real life! But in that
+playtime we learned how to play real football. From now on we’ll
+apply all of the best and most strenuous rules of football to
+the big art of making a living and a reputation. Good night,
+old fellow! Dream of the folks back in Gridley. I’m going to.”</p>
+
+<p>“And of the chums at West Point and Annapolis,” gaped Hazelton.
+“God bless them!”</p>
+
+<p>That was not the only short prayer sent up, but within five minutes
+both youngsters had fallen sound asleep. The man who can sleep
+as they did, when the head touches the pillow, has many successes
+still ahead of him!</p>
+
+<p>Nor did they worry about not waking in season in the morning.
+Slim Morris had promised to see to it that they were awake on time.</p>
+
+<p>Slam! Bump! Tom Reade was positive he had not been asleep more
+than a minute when that rude interruption came. He awoke to find
+himself scrambling up from the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Tom had his eyes open in time to see Harry Hazelton hit the ground
+with force. Then Slim Morris retreated to the doorway of the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you fellows going to sleep until pay days” Slim demanded jovially.</p>
+
+<p>Tom hustled into his clothes, reached the doorway of the tent
+and found the sun already well up in the skies.</p>
+
+<p>“The boys are sitting down to breakfast,” called Slim over his
+shoulder. “Want any?”</p>
+
+<p>“_Do_ I want any?” mocked Tom. He had laid out his khaki clothing
+the night before, and was now in it, save for his khaki jacket,
+which he caught up on his arm as he raced along toward the wash bench.</p>
+
+<p>Nor had he gone very far with the soap and water when Harry Hazelton
+was beside him.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, Tom!” breathed Harry in ecstacy. “Do you blame people for
+loving the Rocky Mountains? This grand old mountain air is food
+and drink—-almost.”</p>
+
+<p>“It may be for you. I want some of the real old camp chuck—-plenty
+of it,” retorted Reade, drawing a pocket comb out and running it
+through his damp locks while he gazed into the foot-square camp mirror
+hanging from a tree.</p>
+
+<p>“May we come in?” inquired Tom, pausing in the doorway of the
+engineers’ mess tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Not if you’re in doubt about it,” replied Mr. Blaisdell, who
+was already eating with great relish. The boys slid into their
+seats, while Bob rapidly started things their way.</p>
+
+<p>How good it all tasted! Bacon and fried eggs, corn bread and
+potatoes, coffee and a big dish of that time-honored standby in
+engineers’ camp—-baked beans. Then, just as Tom and Harry, despite
+their appetites, sat back filled, Bob appeared with a plate of
+flapjacks and a pitcher of molasses.</p>
+
+<p>“Ten minutes of six,” observed Mr. Blaisdell, consulting his watch
+as he finished. “Not much more time, gentlemen.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry followed the assistant engineer out into the open.</p>
+
+<p>“Can you tell us now, Mr. Blaisdell, what we’re to do today?”
+Reade inquired eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“See those transits?” inquired Blaisdell, pointing to two of the
+telescoped and compassed instruments used by surveyors in running
+courses. “One for each of you. Take your choice. You’ll go
+out today under charge of Jack Rutter. Of course it will be a
+little bit slow to you the first two or three days, but between
+you, I hope to see you do more than Rutter could do alone. You’ll
+each have two chainmen. Rutter will give you blank form books
+for your field notes. He’ll work back and forth between the two
+of you, seeing that you each do your work right. Boys, don’t
+make any mistakes today, will you, So much depends, you know,
+upon the way you start in at a new job.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll do the best that’s in us,” breathed Tom ardently.</p>
+
+<p>“Engineer Rutter,” called Blaisdell, “your two assistants are
+ready. Get your two sets of chainmen and make a flying start.”</p>
+
+<p>Animated by the spirit of activity that pervaded the camp, Tom
+and Harry ran to select their instruments, while Rutter hastened
+after his chainmen.</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete had not appeared at either mess this morning. He had
+small need to, for, in the still watches of the night, he had
+burglarized the cook’s stores so successfully that not even that
+argus-eyed individual had noticed the loss.</p>
+
+<p>Having breakfasted heartily in a deep thicket, Pete now looked
+down over the camp, his eyes twinkling in an evil way.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll get bounced out of mess on account of two pasty-faced tenderfeet
+like those boys, will I?” Pete grumbled to himself. “Before
+this morning is over I reckon I’ll have all accounts squared
+with the tenderfeet!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br><span class="small">“TRYING OUT” THE GRIDLEY BOYS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The chainmen picked up the transits, carrying also the chains
+and rods. Rutter led the way, Tom and Harry keeping on either
+side of him, except when the rough mountain trail narrowed. Then
+they were obliged to walk at his heels.</p>
+
+<p>“We are making this survey first,” Rutter explained, “and then
+the leveling over the same ground follows within a few days.
+Both the surveying and the leveling have to be done with great
+care. They must tally accurately, or the work will all go wrong,
+and the contractors would be thrown out so badly that they’d hardly
+know where they stood. A serious mistake in surveying or leveling
+at any point might throw the work down for some days. As you’ve
+already heard explained, any delay, now, is going to lose us our
+charter as sure as guns.”</p>
+
+<p>For more than a mile and a half the brisk walk continued. At
+last Rutter halted, pointing to a stake driven in the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“See the nail head in the top of the stake?” he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” Tom nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find a similar nail head in every stake. The exact point
+of the plummet of your bog-line must centre on the middle of that
+nail head. You can’t be too exact about that, remember.”</p>
+
+<p>Turning to one of the chainmen, Rutter added:</p>
+
+<p>“Jansen, take a rod and hustle along to the next stake.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” answered the man, and started on a run. Nor did he
+pause until he had located the stake. Then he signaled back with
+his right hand. Tom Reade, in the meantime, had quickly set up
+his transit over the first stake on his part of the course. He
+did some rough shifting, at first, until the point of the plummet
+was exactly over the nail head. Then followed some careful adjusting
+of the instrument on its supports until two fine spirit levels
+showed that the compass of the instrument was exactly level.
+“Now, let me see you get your sight,” urged Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>Tom did so, coolly, manipulating his instrument as rapidly as
+he could with safety, yet not with speed enough to cause himself
+confusion or worry.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve got a sight on the rod,” announced Reade, without emotion.</p>
+
+<p>“Are the cross-hairs, as you see them through the telescope, just
+on the mark?” Rutter demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let me have a look,” ordered Rutter. “A fine, close sight,” he
+assented, after taking a careful look through the telescope.
+“Now, take your reading.”</p>
+
+<p>This showed the course by the compass, and was expressed in degrees,
+minutes and seconds. The poor reading of a course is one of the
+frequent faults of new or careless engineers.</p>
+
+<p>“Here is a magnifier for the vernier,” continued Rutter, just
+after Tom had started to make his reading.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you; I have a pretty good one of my own,” Tom answered,
+diving into one of his pockets and bringing to light a small but
+powerful reading glass with an aplanatic lens.</p>
+
+<p>“You carry a better magnifier than I do,” laughed Rutter. “Hazelton,
+do You carry a pocket glass?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” nodded Harry “I have one just like Reade’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good! I can see that you youngsters believe in good tools.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom in the meantime was busy with the vernier of his transit.
+This is an ingenious device for showing the smaller divisions
+into which the circles of the compass are divided. Tom quickly
+jotted down his field note in degrees, minutes and seconds. One
+chainman now held an end of a hundred-link chain at the nail head
+on the stake, while a second man started toward the rodman, unfolding
+the chain as he went.</p>
+
+<p>Tom remained over his transit. The traveling chainman frequently
+glanced back for directions from Reade whether or not he was off
+the course of a straight line to the next stake.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the chain-bearer was a little to the left of the line.</p>
+
+<p>Tom held a hand over the telescope of the transit, moving it very
+slowly to the right. The chain-bearer, glancing slowly back,
+stepped slowly to the right of the course until Tom’s hand fell
+abruptly. Then the chain-bearer stopped, knowing that he was
+on the right line. A metal stake, having a loop at the top from
+which fluttered a marker of red flannel, the man stuck upright
+in the ground. Tom took a peep, signaling so gently that the
+man moved the stake just half an inch before Reade’s hand again
+fell.</p>
+
+<p>“That stake is right; go ahead,” ordered Tom, but he said it not by
+word of mouth, but merely with a slight gesture of pushing forward.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve been well trained, I’ll bet a hat,” smiled Butter. “I
+can tell that by the practiced way that you signal. O’Brien!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” answered another chainman, stepping forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Take Thane with you, and carry Mr. Hazelton’s transit to Grizzly
+Ledge. Mr. Hazelton and I will be there presently.”</p>
+
+<p>Two more chainmen started away.</p>
+
+<p>Now, both of Tom’s chainmen started forward, the rear one moving
+to the first metal stake that displayed the red marker. Tom still
+remained at the transit, motioning to the men whenever they got
+the least out of a true straight line to the rodman. It was not
+hard work for Reade at this point, but it required his closest
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>After some time had passed the chainmen had “chained” the whole
+distance between Tom’s stake and the rod resting on the next stake.
+Now the rodman, after making a close measurement, signaled back.
+Nine downward sweeps of his right arm signified nine chains;
+next the movements of his arm signaled the forty-four links of
+a tenth chain. Then seven movements of the left hand across in
+front of the eyes, and Reade knew that stood for seven-tenths
+of a link. Hence on the page of his field note book Tom wrote
+the distance between the stakes as nine chains and forty-four
+and seven-tenths links.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s good,” nodded Rutter, who had been watching every move
+closely. The forty-four signaled by the rodman’s left arm, instead
+of being made up of forty-four downward strokes, had consisted
+of four such strokes, followed by a pause, and then four more
+strokes.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll go along and see you get the course and distance to the
+third rod,” said Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>This course and distance, too, in time, had been measured and
+carefully noted by Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll get along all right, if you pay strict attention and don’t
+become confused or careless,” nodded Jack Rutter. “Now, I’ll
+write ‘Reade’ on this starting stake of yours, and I’ll write
+Hazelton on your friend’s starting stake. After you’ve surveyed
+to Hazelton’s starting stake let your rodman bring you forward
+until you overhaul me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very good, sir,” nodded Tom coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Rutter and Harry moved along the trail, leaving Tom with his own
+“gang.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing very mentally wearing in this job,” reflected Tom, when
+he found himself left to his own resources. “All a fellow has
+to do is to keep his head clear, be faithful and exactly honest
+with his work, and move with all the speed that good, straight
+work will allow.”</p>
+
+<p>So Reade moved ahead, getting courses and distances to five more
+stakes. Then, as he reached the sixth, he gazed ahead and smiled.
+A mountain pond lay right in his straight path to the seventh stake.</p>
+
+<p>“Can that pond be easily forded?” Reade asked the nearer chainman.</p>
+
+<p>“No, sir; it’s about ten feet deep in the centre.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom smiled grimly to himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Rutter didn’t say anything about this to me,” Tom muttered to
+himself. “He put this upon me, to see how I’d get over an obstacle
+like an unfordable pond. Well, it’s going to take a lot of time
+but I’ll show Mr. Jack Rutter!”</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, Reade allowed his chainmen to proceed measuring until
+they were fairly close to the pond. Then he went forward to the
+metal stake that had just been driven. From this stake he laid
+out a new course to the north and at exact right angles with the
+proper course, sending his chainmen forward with markers. When
+he had thus passed the end of the pond Reade took another course
+at exactly right angles to the northerly course, but now going
+westerly. This he extended until it passed the pond by a few
+feet. Once more Reade laid out a course, southerly, at exact
+right angles with the westerly course, the southerly line being
+exactly four chains in length, as the northerly line had been.
+Now, the young engineer was able to resume his surveying toward
+the seventh stake. The extra route that he had followed made
+three sides of a square. Tom was now in line again, with the
+pond passed, and the exact distance between the sixth and seventh
+stakes.</p>
+
+<p>“I guess that was where Rutter was sure he’d have me,” chuckled
+Tom quietly. “He’s probe ably waiting ahead to see me come hot-footing
+over the trail to ask for orders.”</p>
+
+<p>At the tenth stake Tom found “Hazelton” written thereon.</p>
+
+<p>“Men,” said the young engineer, “I guess this is where we go forward
+and look for the crowd. Get up the stuff and we’ll trot along.”</p>
+
+<p>Nearly an hour of solid tramping over the trail followed before
+Tom and his party, guided by the rodman, came upon Harry Hazelton.
+Jack Rutter, chewing a blade of grass, sat under a tree at a
+little distance from where Harry was watching and signaling to
+two chainmen who were getting a distance.</p>
+
+<p>“Is your own work all done?” asked Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” Tom answered.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see your field notes.”</p>
+
+<p>Reade passed over the book containing them. From an inner pocket
+Rutter drew out his own field note book. Before another minute
+had passed Tom had opened his eyes very wide.</p>
+
+<p>“Your field notes are all straight, my boy. If you’ve made any
+errors, then I’ve made the same.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve already been over this work that we’ve been doing?” demanded
+Tom, feeling somewhat abashed.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course,” nodded the older and more experienced engineer.
+“You don’t for a moment suppose we’d trust you with original work
+until we had tried you out, do you? We have all the field notes
+for at least three miles more ahead of here. Hazelton!”</p>
+
+<p>“Coming,” said Harry, after jotting down his last observations
+and the distance.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see your last notes, Hazelton,” directed Rutter. “Yes;
+your work is all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you know about this, Harry?” laughingly demanded Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve suspected for the last two hours that Mr. Rutter was merely
+trying us out over surveyed courses,” laughed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“If you don’t know how to do anything other than transit work,”
+Rutter declared, “the chief can use all your time at that. He’ll
+be pleased when I tell him that you’re at least as good surveyors
+as I am. And, Reade, I see from your notes that you knew how
+to measure across a pond that your chainmen couldn’t ford.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Price taught me that trick, back in Gridley,” Tom responded.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Jack Rutter sprang to his feet sniffing vigorously.</p>
+
+<p>“Boys,” he announced, “an adventure is coming our way. Can you
+guess what it is?”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry gazed at him blankly.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br><span class="small">TOM DOESN’T MIND “ARTILLERY”</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“I give it up,” Reade replied.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, it’s dinner time,” declared Rutter, displaying the face
+of his watch.</p>
+
+<p>“Do we have to walk all the way back to camp?” queried Harry,
+who knew that no provisions had been brought with them.</p>
+
+<p>“No; camp is going to be brought to us,” smiled Rutter. “At least,
+a part of the camp will be brought here. Look up the trail there,
+at that highest rise. Do you see dust near there?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” nodded Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“A burro pack-train, conveying our food and that of the other
+surveying parties ahead of us,” nodded Rutter. “You’ll find the
+cook’s helper, Bob, in charge of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is that the way the meals are brought out every day?” asked Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“No; but now we’re getting pretty far from camp, and it would
+waste a lot of our time to go back and forth. So our noon meals
+will come by burro route. Tomorrow or the day after the camp
+will be moved forward.”</p>
+
+<p>“How long before that train will be here?” Tom wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>“Probably ten minutes,” guessed Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’m going to see if I can’t find some little stream such
+as I’ve passed this morning,” Tom went on. “I want to wash before
+I’m introduced to clean food.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll go along presently,” nodded Harry to his chum. “There’s
+something about the spirit level on this transit of mine that
+I want to inspect.”</p>
+
+<p>So Tom Reade trudged off into the brush alone. After a few minutes
+he returned.</p>
+
+<p>“That burro outfit in sight?” he called, as he neared the trail.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” answered Rutter. “But it’s close. Once in a while I can
+hear a burro clicking his hoofs against stones.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry appeared two minutes later, just as the foremost burro,
+with Bob by its head, put in an appearance about fifty yards away.</p>
+
+<p>“All ready for you, Bob,” called Rutter good-humoredly.</p>
+
+<p>“You gentlemen of the engineer corps are always ready,” grunted
+the cook’s helper.</p>
+
+<p>A quick stop was made, Bob unloading tin plates, bowls and cups.</p>
+
+<p>“Soup!” cried Rutter in high glee. “This is fine living for buck
+engineers, Bob!”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s even dessert,” returned the cook’s helper gravely, exposing
+an entire apple pie.</p>
+
+<p>There was also meat, still fairly warm, as well as canned vegetables
+in addition to potatoes. A pot of hot coffee finished the repast
+that Bob unloaded at this point.</p>
+
+<p>“Everything but napkins!” chuckled Rutter, as he and the boys
+quickly “set table” on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“No; something else is missing,” answered Tom gravely. “Bob forgot
+the finger-bowls.”</p>
+
+<p>The helper, beginning to feel that he was being “guyed,” took
+refuge in cold indifference.</p>
+
+<p>“Just stack the things up at this point when you’re through,” directed
+Bob. “I’ll pick ’em up when I come back on the trail.”</p>
+
+<p>Rutter, like a good chief, saw to it that his two assistants and
+the chainmen were started on their meal ere he himself began.
+In half an hour every morsel of food and the final drop of coffee
+had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>“Twenty minutes to loaf,” advised Rutter, throwing himself on
+the ground and closing his eyes. “I’ll take a nap. You’d better
+follow my example.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then who’ll call us?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I will,” gaped Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Without a clock to ring an alarm?”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! Any real backwoods engineer can wake up in twenty minutes
+if he sets his mind on it,” retorted Jack.</p>
+
+<p>This was a fact, though it was the first that Tom or Harry had
+heard of it.</p>
+
+<p>“See the time?” called Rutter, holding out his watch. “Twenty
+minutes of one. I’ll call you at one o’clock—-see if I don’t.”</p>
+
+<p>In that fine air, with all the warmth of the noon hour, there
+was no difficulty in going to sleep. Truth to tell, Tom and Harry
+had tramped so far that forenoon that they were decidedly tired.
+Within sixty seconds both “cubs” were sound asleep.</p>
+
+<p>“One o’clock!” called Rutter, sitting up and consulting his watch.
+“Fall to, slaves! There is a big batch of work awaiting us.
+Hazelton, you can go right on where you left off. Survey along
+carefully until you come upon a stake marked ‘Reade.’ Then come
+forward until you find us. Reade, I’ll go along with you and
+show you where to break in.”</p>
+
+<p>Preceded by their chainmen, Rutter and Reade trudged along the
+trail for something like a mile.</p>
+
+<p>“Halt,” ordered Jack Rutter. “Reade, write your autograph on that
+stake and begin.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom stepped over to the transit, adjusting it carefully and setting
+the hanging plummet on dead centre with the nail head in the top
+of the short stake.</p>
+
+<p>“Never set up a transit again,” directed Rutter, “without making
+sure that your levels are absolutely true, and that your vernier
+arrangement is in order.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe you’ll ever catch me at that, Mr. Rutter,” Tom
+answered, busying himself with the finer adjustments of the transit.
+“Mr. Price pounded that into me every time that he took me out
+in the field.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nevertheless,” went on Rutter, “I have known older engineers
+than you, Reade, who became careless, and their carelessness cost
+their employers a lot of wasted time and money. Now, you——-”</p>
+
+<p>At this juncture Jack Rutter suddenly crouched behind a low ledge
+at the right.</p>
+
+<p>“Get behind here, quickly, Reade!” called Rutter. “Bad Pete is
+up the hillside, about two hundred yards from you——-”</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t time to bother with him, now,” Tom broke in composedly.</p>
+
+<p>“Duck fast, boy! Pete has an ugly grin on his face, and he’s
+reaching for his pistol. He’s got it out—-he’s going to shoot!”
+whispered Rutter, drawing his head down where it would be safe
+from flying bullets.</p>
+
+<p>The chainmen, lounging nearby, had wasted no time in getting safely
+to cover.</p>
+
+<p>“Going to shoot, is he?” murmured Tom, without glancing away from
+the instrument. “Does Peter really know how to shoot,”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find out! Jump—-like a flash, boy!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom went calmly on tinkering with the mechanism of his instrument.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! sounded up the trail. Tom’s fingers didn’t falter as he
+adjusted a small, brass screw.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! came the second shot. Tom betrayed no more annoyance than
+before. Bad Pete was aiming to drive bullets into the ground close
+to the young engineer’s feet, making him skip about. The sixth shot
+Pete was saving for clipping Reade’s hat from his head.</p>
+
+<p>The shots continued to ring out. Tom, though he appeared to be
+absorbed in his instrument, counted. When he had counted the
+sixth shot Reade dropped suddenly, picked up a stone that lay
+at his feet, and whirled about.</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade hadn’t devoted years to ball-playing without knowing
+how to throw straight. The stone left his hand, arching upward,
+and flew straight toward Bad Pete, who had advanced steadily as
+he fired.</p>
+
+<p>Whiff! Though Pete tried, too late, to dodge the stone, it landed
+against his sombrero, carrying that away without injuring the
+owner.</p>
+
+<p>“Kindly clear out!” called Tom coolly. “You and your noise annoy me
+when I’m trying to do a big afternoon’s work.”</p>
+
+<p>Snatching up his sombrero, Bad Pete vanished into a clump of brush.</p>
+
+<p>Jack Rutter leaped up from his haven of safety, advancing swiftly
+to his cub assistant.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he exclaimed, with ungrudging admiration, “you’re the
+coolest young fellow I ever met, without exception. But you’re
+foolhardy, boy. Bad Pete is a real shot. One of these days,
+when you’re just as cool, he’ll fill you full of lead!”</p>
+
+<p>“If he does?” retorted Tom, again bending over his transit, “and
+if I notice it, I’ll throw a bigger stone at him than I did that
+time, and it’ll land on him a few inches lower down.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, boy, don’t you understand that the days of David and Goliath
+are gone by,” remonstrated Rutter. “It’s true you’re turned the
+laugh on Pete, but that fellow won’t forgive you. He may open
+on you again within two minutes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe he will,” replied Tom, with his quiet smile.
+“At the same time, I’ll be prepared for him.”</p>
+
+<p>Bending to the ground, and rummaging about a bit, Reade selected
+three stones that would throw well. These he dropped into one
+of his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, let the bad man trot himself on, if he has to,” added the
+cub engineer, waving a signal to the rodman, who had just halted
+at the next stake.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, of all the cool ones!” grunted Rutter, under his breath.
+“But, then, Reade’s a tenderfoot. He doesn’t understand just
+how dangerous a fellow like Pete can be.”</p>
+
+<p>The chainman started away to measure the distance. From up the
+hillside came sounds of smothered but very bad language.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s our friend Peter again,” Tom chuckled to Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and the ruffian may open on you again at any moment,” warned
+Jack, keeping an anxious glance turned in the direction whence
+came the disturbing voice of Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I don’t think he will,” drawled Tom, making a hand signal
+to the leading chainman to step a little more to the left. “I
+hope not, anyway, for the noise of revolver shots takes my thoughts
+away from my work.”</p>
+
+<p>Jack Rutter said no more after that, though through the rest of
+the afternoon he kept an alert lookout for signs of Pete. There
+were none, however. Rather earlier than usual, on account of
+the distance back to camp, Rutter knocked off work for the entire
+party and the start on the return to camp was made.</p>
+
+<p>Harry Hazelton was considerably excited when he heard the news
+of the firing on his chum. Reade, however, appeared to be but
+little interested in the subject.</p>
+
+<p>Pete was not in camp that evening.</p>
+
+<p>Rutter went at once to the tent of the chief, to tell him how
+well the “cubs” had done during the day. Nor did Jack forget
+to relate the encounter with Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the underlings of the staff were seating themselves around
+the table in their mess, Mr. Thurston thrust his head in at the
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” called the chief engineer, “I have heard about your trouble
+with Pete today.”</p>
+
+<p>“There wasn’t any real trouble, sir,” Tom answered.</p>
+
+<p>“Fortunately for you, Reade, Pete didn’t intend to hit you. If
+he had meant to do so, he’d have done it. I’ve seen him shoot
+all the spots out of a ten of clubs. Don’t provoke the fellow,
+Reade, or he’ll shoot you full of fancy holes. Of course it showed
+both grit and coolness on your part in keeping steadily on with
+your work all the time the fellow was firing at you. Still, it
+was unwise to expose yourself needlessly to danger.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t consider Bad Pete particularly dangerous,” Tom rejoined.</p>
+
+<p>“A lawless man with a loaded revolver is hardly a safe person
+to trifle with,” retorted Mr. Thurston dryly.</p>
+
+<p>“I see that I shall have to make a confession,” smiled Tom. “It
+was this way, sir. When Hazelton and I were on our way west Harry
+insisted that we were coming into a dangerous country and that
+we’d need firearms. So Harry bought two forty-five six-shooters
+and several boxes of cartridges, too. I was provoked when I heard
+about it, for we hadn’t any too much money, and Harry had bought
+the revolvers out of our joint treasury.”</p>
+
+<p>“I felt sure we’d need the pistols,” interrupted Hazelton. “Today’s
+affair shows that I was right. Tom, you’ll have to carry one
+of the revolvers after this.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m no gun-packer,” retorted Tom scornfully. “Young men have
+no business carting firearms about unless they’re hunting or going
+to war. Any fellow who carries a pistol as he would a lead pencil
+is either a coward or a lunatic.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad to hear you say that, Reade,” nodded Mr. Thurston approvingly.
+“Two of my staff carry pistols, but they do so under my orders.
+In the first place they’re grown men, not boys. In the second
+place, they’re working over a stretch of ground where rattlesnakes
+are thick. Your coolness today served you better than a pistol
+would have done. If you had had a revolver, and had drawn it,
+Pete would have drilled you through the head.”</p>
+
+<p>“Drilled me through the head—-with what?” asked Tom, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>“With a bullet, of course, young man,” retorted Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe he would have gone as far as that,” laughed Tom.
+“You see, sir, it was like this: When I found Harry so set on
+carrying a pistol, I went down deep in my own pocket and bought
+two boxes of blank cartridges to fit the forty-fives. I thought
+if Harry were going to do some shooting, it would be the part
+of friendship to fix him so that he could do it in safety to himself
+and others.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry’s face turned decidedly red. He was beginning to feel foolish.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, this morning,” Tom continued, “when I got the khaki out
+of my dunnage, I ran across the blanks. I don’t know what made
+me do it, but I dropped the box of blanks into one of my pockets.
+This noon, when I went off to find a stream where I could wash
+up, I almost stepped on our friend Peter, asleep under a bush.
+For greater comfort he had taken off his belt and holster. Somehow,
+I didn’t like the idea of his being there. As softly as I could
+I crept close. I emptied his revolver and fitted in blanks from
+my own box. Then I took about twenty cartridges out of Peter’s
+belt and replaced them with blanks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean to tell me,” broke in Rutter, “that Bad Pete, when
+he turned his revolver loose on you, was shooting nothing but
+blanks?”</p>
+
+<p>“That was all he had to shoot,” Tom returned coolly. “And blanks
+were all he had in his belt to reload with. Don’t you remember
+when we heard him making a noise up the hillside, and talking
+in dots and dashes!”</p>
+
+<p>“I do,” nodded Rutter, looking half dazed.</p>
+
+<p>“That,” grinned Reade, “was when he started in to reload? and
+discovered that he had nothing on hand but temperance cartridges.
+Here——-” Tom began to unload one of his pockets upon the wooden
+table before the astonished eyes of the others. There was a mixture
+of his own blank cartridges with the real ammunition that he had
+stealthily abstracted from Bad Pete’s revolver and belt.</p>
+
+<p>Such a whoop of glee ascended that the head chainman came running
+from the other nearby mess tent to see what was up.</p>
+
+<p>“Just a little joke among our youngsters, my man,” explained Mr.
+Thurston. “The young gentlemen are going to keep the joke to
+themselves for the present, though.”</p>
+
+<p>So the mystified and disappointed chainman returned to his own
+crowd.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see, Reade,” continued Mr. Thurston, turning once more
+to Tom, “what is your salary?”</p>
+
+<p>“I was taken on, sir, at forty dollars a month, as a starter,”
+Tom replied.</p>
+
+<p>“A young man with your size of head is worth more than that to
+the company. We’ll call it fifty a month, Reade, and keep our
+eyes on you for signs of further improvement,” said the chief
+engineer, as he turned to go back to his own waiting dinner.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br><span class="small">THE BITE FROM THE BUSH</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>From the time that they parted in the morning, until they started
+to go back to camp in the afternoon, Tom and Harry did not meet
+the next day. Each, with his chainmen, was served from Bob’s
+burro train at noon.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you see Bad Pete today?” was Harry’s greeting, as they Started
+back over the trail.</p>
+
+<p>“No.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you hear from him or of him in any way?” pressed Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Not a sign of any sort from Peter,” Tom went on. “I’ve a theory
+as to what’s keeping him away. He’s on a journey.”</p>
+
+<p>“Journey?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; between you and me, I believe that Peter has gone in search
+of someone who can sell him, or give him, a few forty-five cartridges.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’d better apply to you, then, Tom,” grinned Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, I couldn’t sell him any,” Tom replied.</p>
+
+<p>“What did you do with those you had last night?”</p>
+
+<p>“You remember the unfordable pond that came in one of my courses
+yesterday?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“To-day I threw all of Peter’s .45’s into the middle of the pond.
+They must have sunk a foot into the mud by this time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Seriously, Tom, don’t you believe that you’d better take one
+of the revolvers that I bought and wear it on a belt?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not I,” retorted Reade. “Harry, I wish you could get that sort
+of foolishness out of your head. A revolver is of no possible
+use to a man who hasn’t any killing to do. I’m trying to learn
+to be a civil engineer, not a man-killer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I believe that Bad Pete will ‘get’ you one of these days,”
+sighed Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait until he does,” smiled Tom. “Then you can have the fun
+of coming around and saying ‘I told you so.’”</p>
+
+<p>Their chainmen were ahead of the “cub” engineers on the trail.
+Tom and Harry were talking earnestly when they heard a pony’s
+hoofs behind them. Hazelton turned with a start.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, it’s Rutter mounted,” Hazelton said, with a sigh of relief.
+“I was afraid it was Bad Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Take my word for it, Harry. Peter is a good deal of a coward.
+He won’t dare to show up until he has some real cartridges.
+The temperance kind do not give a man like Peter any real sense
+of security in the world.”</p>
+
+<p>Rutter rode along on his sure-footed mountain pony at a rapid
+jog. When he came close, Tom and Harry stepped aside into the
+brush to let him go by on the narrow trail.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t get off into the brush that way,” yelled Rutter from the
+distance.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re trying to give you room,” Tom called.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t need the room yet. I won’t run over you, anyway. Stand out
+of the brush, I tell you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom good-humoredly obeyed, Harry moving, too, though starting
+an instant later.</p>
+
+<p>Prompt as he was, however, Tom Reade was a fraction of a second
+too late.</p>
+
+<p>Behind them there was a half-whirring, half-clicking sound.</p>
+
+<p>Then Reade felt a stinging sensation in his left leg three or
+four inches from the heel.</p>
+
+<p>“Look out!” yelled Rutter, more excitedly than before. “Get away
+from there!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom ran some distance down the trail. Then he halted, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder what’s on Rut’s mind,” he smiled, as Hazelton joined
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Jack Rutter came at a gallop, reining up hard as he reached where
+Tom had stood.</p>
+
+<p>Again that whirring, clicking sound. Rutter’s pony reared.</p>
+
+<p>“Still, you brute!” commanded Rutter sternly. Then, without waiting
+to see whether his mount would stand alone, Rutter leaped from
+saddle, going forward with his quirt—-a rawhide riding whip—-uplifted.</p>
+
+<p>Into the brush from which Tom had stepped Rutter went cautiously,
+though he did not lose much time about it.</p>
+
+<p>Swish! swish! swish! sounded the quirt, as Rutter laid it on
+the ground ahead of him. Then he stepped out. The pony had drawn
+back thirty or forty feet and now stood trembling, nostrils distended.</p>
+
+<p>“Is that the way you take your exercise?” Reade demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Rutter, however, came running along the trail, his face white
+as though from worry.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he demanded, “Did that thing strike you?”</p>
+
+<p>“What thing,” asked Tom in wonderment.</p>
+
+<p>“The rattler that I killed!”</p>
+
+<p>“Rattler?” gasped both cub engineers.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. From the distance I thought I saw it strike out at you.
+There’s a nest of the reptiles at some point near that brush.
+That’s why I warned you to get away from there. Never stand
+in brush, in the Rockies, unless you’ve looked before stepping.
+Were you struck?”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe something did sting me,” Reade admitted, remembering
+that smarting sensation in his left leg.</p>
+
+<p>“Which leg was it? demanded Rutter, halting beside the cub.</p>
+
+<p>“Left—-a little above the ankle,” replied Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Take off your legging. I must have a look. Hazelton, call to
+one of your chainmen and send him back to make sure of my pony.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry hastened to obey, then came back breathless. Rutter, in
+the meantime, had turned up enough of Tom’s left trousers’ leg
+to bare a spot on the flesh that was red. There were fang marks
+in the centre of this reddened surface.</p>
+
+<p>“You got it, boy,” spoke Rutter huskily. “Now we’ll have to go
+to work like lightning to save you.”</p>
+
+<p>“How are you going to do it?” asked Tom coolly, though he felt
+decidedly queer over the startling news.</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton,” demanded Rutter, turning upon the other cub engineer,
+“have you nerve enough to put your lips to that wound, and draw,
+draw draw as hard as you can, and keep on until you’ve drawn all
+the poison out?”</p>
+
+<p>“I have,” nodded Harry, sinking to his knees beside his chum.
+“I’ll draw all the poison out if I have to swallow enough to
+kill me.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t poison yourself, Hazelton,” replied Rutter quickly,
+as one of the chainmen came near with the recaptured pony. “Snake
+venom isn’t deadly in the stomach—-only when it gets into the
+blood direct. There’s no danger unless you’ve a cut or a deep
+scratch in your mouth. Spit the stuff out as you draw.”</p>
+
+<p>Having given these directions, Jack Rutter turned, with the help
+of one of the chainmen to fasten a blanket behind the saddle to
+make a sort of extra saddle. The blanket had been lying rolled
+at the back of the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>Harry, in the meantime, without flinching, performed his task
+well. Had he but known it, Rutter’s explanation of the lack of
+danger was true; but in that moment, with his chum’s life at stake,
+Harry didn’t care a fig whether the explanation were true or not.
+All he thought of was saving Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon that part of the job has been done well,” nodded Rutter,
+turning back from the horse. “Now, Reade, I want you to mount
+behind me and hold on tightly, for we’re going to do some hard,
+swift riding. The sooner we get you to camp the surer you will
+be of coming out of this scrape all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve never had much experience in horsemanship, and I may out
+a sorry figure at it,” laughed Reade, as, with Harry’s help he
+got up behind Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Horsemanship doesn’t count—-speed does,” replied Rutter tersely.
+“Hold on tightly, and we’ll make as good time as possible. I’m
+going to start now.”</p>
+
+<p>Away they went, at a hard gallop, Tom doing his best to hold on,
+but feeling like a jumping-jack.</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t take us more than twenty minutes,” promised Jack Rutter.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br><span class="small">WHAT A SQUAW KNEW</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>All the way to camp Rutter kept the pony at a hard gallop.</p>
+
+<p>“Thurston! Mr. Thurston!” he shouted. “Be quick, please!”</p>
+
+<p>Even as the young man called, Mr. Thurston ran out of his tent.</p>
+
+<p>“You know something about rattlesnake bites, I believe?” Rutter
+went on hurriedly, as Tom Reade slipped to the ground. “The boy
+has been bitten by one and we’ll have to work quickly.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t bring any liquor, though,” objected Reade, leaning up against
+a tree. “If liquor is your cure for snakebites I prefer to take
+my chances with the bite.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get the shoe off and roll up the trousers,” directed the chief
+engineer, without loss of words. “Fortunately, I believe we have
+someone here who knows more about treating the bites than I do.
+Squaw!”</p>
+
+<p>An Indian woman who had been sitting on the grass before the chief’s
+tent, a medley pack of Indian baskets arranged before her, glanced up.</p>
+
+<p>“Snake! You know what to do,” went on Mr. Thurston hurriedly. “You
+know what to do——eh? Pay you well.”</p>
+
+<p>At the last three magic words the aged squaw rose and hobbled quickly
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Take boy him tent,” directed the Indian woman.</p>
+
+<p>“I can walk,” remarked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“No; they take you. Heap better,” commanded the woman.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly Mr. Thurston and Rutter took hold of Tom, raising him
+into their arms. Through the flap of his tent they bore him,
+depositing him on his cot. The Indian woman followed them inside.</p>
+
+<p>“Now you go out,” she ordered, with a sweep of her hand. “Send
+him cookman. Hot water—-heap boil.”</p>
+
+<p>Thus ordered, Jake Wren came on the run with a kettle of boiling
+water. The Indian squaw received it with a grunt, ordering that
+bowls and cups be also brought. When Wren came the second time
+he lingered curiously.</p>
+
+<p>“You go out; no see what do,” said the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>So Jake departed, the squaw tying the flap of the tent after he
+had gone. Then, from the bosom of her dress she drew out a few
+small packages of herbs. The contents of these she distributed
+in different bowels and cups.</p>
+
+<p>“I’d like to see what the old witch is doing, and how she’s doing
+it,” declared Rutter in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>“She’ll stop short if she catches you looking in on her,” replied
+the chief, with a smile. “For some reason these Indians are very
+jealous of their secrets in treating snakebites. They’re wizards,
+though, these same red-skinned savages.”</p>
+
+<p>“You believe, then, that she can pull Reade through?” asked Rutter
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“If she knows her business, and if there’s any such thing as saving
+the boy she’ll do it,” declared Mr. Thurston, as they reached
+the door of the chief’s tent. “Will you come inside, Rutter!
+You look badly broken up.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am, and I shall be, just as long as Reade is in any danger,”
+Rutter admitted. “Reade is a mighty fine boy and I’m fond of
+him. Besides, more than a little of our success in getting the
+road through on time depends on the boy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is Reade really so valuable, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“He goes over the course, Mr. Thurston, as rapidly as any man
+in our corps, and his work is very accurately done. Moreover,
+he never kicks. If you told him to work half the night, on top
+of a day’s work, he’d do it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then Reade, if he recovers, must be watched and rewarded for
+anything he does for us,” murmured Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t say, ‘if he recovers,’ chief,” begged Jack. “I hate to
+think of his not pulling through from this snakebite.”</p>
+
+<p>“What became of the reptile that did the trick?” asked Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“That crawler will never bite anything else,” muttered Rutter.
+“I got the thing with my riding quirt.”</p>
+
+<p>Not very long after Harry Hazelton reached camp, well in advance
+of the chainmen, for Harry, good school athlete that he was, had
+jog-trotted every step of the way in.</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s Tom?” Hazelton demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“Here,” called a voice from Reade’s tent.</p>
+
+<p>Hazelton turned in that direction, but Mr. Thurston looked out
+from the large tent, calling:</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t go there now, Hazelton. You wouldn’t be admitted. Come here.”</p>
+
+<p>Despite his long run, Harry’s face displayed pallor as he came
+breathlessly into Mr. Thurston’s field abode. In a few words,
+however, the lad was acquainted with the situation as far as it
+had developed.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime what was the squaw doing with Tom? It must be
+admitted that Reade hadn’t any too clear an idea. The gaunt old
+red woman poured hot water, small quantities at a time, into the
+bowls and cups in which she had distributed the herbs. Then she
+stirred vigorously, in the meantime muttering monotonously in
+her own language.</p>
+
+<p>“She isn’t relying on the herbs alone,” muttered Tom curiously
+to himself. “She’s working up some kind of incantation. I wonder
+what effect she expects an Indian song to have on snake poison?”</p>
+
+<p>Presently the squaw turned, bringing one of the cupfuls to the
+wounded boy.</p>
+
+<p>“Sit up,” she ordered. “Drink!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom nearly dropped it, it was so hot.</p>
+
+<p>“Drink!” repeated the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>“But it’s so hot it’ll burn my gullet out,” remonstrated Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“You know more I do?” demanded the squaw stolidly. “Drink!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom took a sip, and shuddered from the intense heat of the stuff.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! White man him heap papoose!” muttered the squaw, scornfully.
+“You want live, drink!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom took a longer swallow of the hot stuff. Whew, but it was
+bitter!</p>
+
+<p>“The bronze lady is trying to turn me inside out!” gasped the
+boy to himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Drink—-all down!” commanded the squaw with scarcely less scorn
+than before in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>This time Tom took a hard grip on himself and swallowed all the
+liquid. For a moment, he thought the nauseating stuff would kill him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, eat grass,” ordered the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>“Meaning eat these herbs,” demanded Tom, glancing up.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. Heap quick.”</p>
+
+<p>“To make a fellow eat these herbs after drinking the brew from
+them is what I call rubbing it in,” grimaced Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, this,” continued the squaw, calmly handing a second cup
+to Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s all right for _you_ to be calm,” thought Tom, as he took
+the cup from her. “All you have to do is to stand by and watch
+me. You don’t have to drink any of these fearful messes.”</p>
+
+<p>However, Tom brought all his will power into play, swallowing
+a second brew, compared with which the first had been delicious.</p>
+
+<p>“Eat this grass, too”? inquired Tom, gazing at the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>“I shall be very, very careful not to meet any more snakes,” he
+shuddered, after getting the second dose down.</p>
+
+<p>Now the squaw busied herself with spreading soaked herbs on a
+piece of cloth that she had torn from one of Tom’s white shirts’
+to which she had helped herself from his dunnage box.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s a dollar shirt, anyway, when an interesting young man’s
+life is at stake” mused Reade. “Ow—-ow—-ooch!”</p>
+
+<p>“You baby—-papoose?” inquired the squaw calmly. She had slapped
+on Tom’s leg, over the bite, a poultice that, to his excited mind,
+was four hundred degrees hotter than boiling water.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no,” grimaced Tom. “That’s fine and soothing. But it’s
+growing cool. Haven’t you something hotter?”</p>
+
+<p>Just five seconds later Reade regretted his rashness, for, snatching
+off the first poultice, the squaw slapped on a second that seemed,
+in some way, ten times more powerful—-and twenty times hotter.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s queer what an awful amount of heat a squaw can get out of
+a kettle of hot water, thought the suffering boy. I’ll wager
+some of the heat is due to the herbs themselves. O-o-o-o-ow! Ouch!”</p>
+
+<p>For now the third poultice, most powerful of all, was in place,
+and Mrs. Squaw was binding it on as though she intended it never
+to come off.</p>
+
+<p>Two minutes after that Tom Reade commenced to retch violently.
+With a memory of the messes that he had swallowed he didn’t wonder.
+The squaw now stepped outside, calling for coffee. This was
+brought. Tom was obliged to drink several cupfuls, after which
+he began to feel decidedly more comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, take nap,” advised the squaw, and quitted the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“The bronze lady seems to know what she’s doing,” thought Tom.
+“I guess I’ll take the whole of her course of treatment.” Thereupon
+he turned his face to the wall. Within sixty seconds he slept.</p>
+
+<p>“How’s Reade?” demanded Harry, rising eagerly as the squaw stepped
+inside the chief’s tent.</p>
+
+<p>“He sleep,” muttered the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>“He—-he—-isn’t dead!” choked Harry, turning deathly pale.</p>
+
+<p>“You think I make death medicine?” demanded the squaw scornfully.
+“You think me heap fool?”</p>
+
+<p>“The young man will be all right, squaw?” asked Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! Maybe,” grunted the red woman. “Yes, I think so. You
+know bimeby.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the Indian contempt for death,” explained the chief engineer,
+turning to Harry. “I imagine that Reade is doing all right, or
+she wouldn’t have left him.”</p>
+
+<p>However, Hazelton was not satisfied with that. He slipped out,
+crossed camp and stealthily peeped inside of the tent. Then
+Hazelton slipped back to Mr. Thurston to report.</p>
+
+<p>“If Tom doesn’t swallow some of those big snores of his, and choke
+to death, I think he’ll get well,” said Harry, with a laugh that
+testified to the great relief that had come to his feelings. With
+that all hands had to be content for the time being.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br><span class="small">’GENE BLACK, TROUBLE-MAKER</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>In the morning Tom Reade declared that he was all right. The
+old Indian squaw had pronounced him safe, and had gone on her way.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll stay in camp today, Reade,” announced Mr. Thurston, dropping
+into the mess tent.</p>
+
+<p>“With all the work there is ahead of us, sir?” cried Reade aghast.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s why you’ll stay,” nodded Mr Thurston. “Your life has
+been saved, but after the shock you had yesterday you’re not as
+strong as you may feel. One day of good rest in camp will fit
+you for what’s ahead of us in the days to come. The strain of
+tramping miles and working like a steam engine all day is not
+to be thought of for you today. Tomorrow you’ll go out with the
+rest.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom sighed. True, he did not feel up to the mark, and was eating
+a very light breakfast. Still he chafed at the thought of inaction
+for a whole day.</p>
+
+<p>“The chief wouldn’t order you to stay in,” remarked Blaisdell,
+after Mr. Thurston had gone, “unless he knew that to be the best
+thing for you.”</p>
+
+<p>So, after the engineers, their chainmen and rodmen had left camp
+Tom wandered about disconsolately. He tried to talk to the cook,
+but Jake and his helper were both rushed in getting the meal that
+was to be taken out over the trail by burro train.</p>
+
+<p>“Lonely, Reade?” called the chief from his tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” Tom nodded. “I wish I had something to do.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps I can find work for you in here. Come in.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom entered eagerly. Mr. Thurston was seated at the large table,
+a mass of maps and field notes before him.</p>
+
+<p>“How are you on drawing, Reade?” queried his chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Poor, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never had any training in that line?”</p>
+
+<p>“I can draw the lines of a map, sir, and get it pretty straight,
+as far as the mathematics of map-drawing goes,” Tom answered.
+“But another man has to go over my work and put in the fine touches
+of the artist. You know what I mean, sir; the fancy fixings of
+a map.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I know,” nodded Mr. Thurston. “I can sympathize with you, too,
+Reade, for, though I always longed to do artistic platting (map-work)
+I was always like yourself, and could do only the mathematical part of
+it. You can help me at that, however, if you are careful enough. Take a
+seat at that drawing table; and I’ll see what you can do.”</p>
+
+<p>First, Reade stepped to a box that held map paper. Taking out a sheet,
+he placed it on the surface of the drawing table, then stuck in
+thumb-tacks at each of the four corners.</p>
+
+<p>“All ready, sir,” he announced.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston stepped over with an engineer’s field note book.</p>
+
+<p>“See if these notes are all clear,” directed the chief engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir; I know what the notes call for,” Tom answered confidently.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’ll show you just what’s wanted Reade,” continued the chief.</p>
+
+<p>After some minutes of explanation Tom picked up the T-square,
+placing the top at the side of the drawing surface. Then against
+the limb of the “T” Tom laid the base of a right-angled triangle.
+Along this edge he drew his perpendicular north-and-south line
+in the upper left-hand corner. He crossed this with a shorter
+line at right angles, establishing his east-and-west line. Mr.
+Thurston, standing at the cub engineer is back, looked on closely.</p>
+
+<p>Tom now settled on his beginning point, and made the dot with
+his pencil. From that point he worked rapidly, making all his
+measurements and dotting his points. Then he began to draw in.
+The chief engineer went back to his table.</p>
+
+<p>After Tom had worked an hour the chief interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Reade, get up and let me sit down there for a little while.
+I want to go over your work.”</p>
+
+<p>For some minutes Mr. Thurston checked off the lad’s work.</p>
+
+<p>“You really know what you are doing, Reade,” he said at last.
+“Your line measurements are right, and your angles tally faultlessly,
+I’m glad I kept you back today. You can help me here even more
+than in the field. Tomorrow, however, I shall have to keep Rice
+back. He’s our ornamental draughtsman, and puts in the fine,
+flowery work on our maps. Here’s some of his work.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom gazed intently at the sheet that Mr. Thurston spread for his
+inspection.</p>
+
+<p>“Rice does it well,” remarked Reade thoughtfully. “You’ve one
+other man in the corps who can do the pretty draughting about as well.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is he?”</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton. Harry doesn’t do the mathematical part as easily as
+I do, but he has a fine talent for fancy drawing, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’ll try Hazelton tonight,” decided Mr. Thurston aloud.
+“You may go on with your drawing now, Reade. Hello; someone
+is coming into camp.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston stepped over to the doorway in time to see a young
+man riding up on a pony.</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the chief engineer?” called the newcomer.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re looking at him,” replied Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>The young man, who appeared to be about twenty-eight years of
+age, rode his horse to a near-by tree, then dismounted gracefully
+and tied his mount.</p>
+
+<p>The young man was well-built, dark-haired and smooth-faced, with
+snapping black eyes. There was an easy, half-swaggering grace
+about him suggesting one who had seen much of free life in the
+open air. For one attired for riding in saddle over mountain
+trails the stranger was not a little of a dandy in appearance.
+His khaki trousers and leggings, despite his probably long ride,
+were spotless. His dark-blue flannel shirt showed no speck of
+dust; his black, flowing tie was perfection; his light-hued sombrero
+looked as though it had just left the store.</p>
+
+<p>“If you are Mr. Thurston, I have the honor to present a letter,”
+was the stranger’s greeting as he entered the large tent.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston glanced at the envelope, reading: “Mr. Eugene Black.”</p>
+
+<p>“Be seated, Mr. Black,” requested the chief, then opened the letter.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you’re a new engineer, sent out from the offices in New York,”
+continued the chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” smiled the newcomer.</p>
+
+<p>“An experienced engineer, the vice-president of the company informs
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Six years of experience,” smiled the newcomer, showing his white,
+handsome teeth.</p>
+
+<p>Tom glanced up just in time to see that smile. “Somehow, I don’t
+quite like the looks of Mr. Black,” Reade decided.</p>
+
+<p>“What is your especial line of work, Mr. Black?” Thurston continued.</p>
+
+<p>“Anything in usual field work, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“This letter states that you expect one hundred and twenty-five
+dollars a month.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then the letter is correct, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right, Mr. Black; we’ll put you at work and let you prove
+that you’re worth it,” smiled Mr. Thurston pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>“How soon shall I go to work, sir?” asked Black.</p>
+
+<p>“I expect my assistant, Mr. Blaisdell, here in about an hour.
+I’ll send you out with him when he returns to field.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, if you’re through with me at present, sir, I’ll step outside
+and be within call.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and his chief were again alone. Reade kept steadily on with
+his work, and no word was spoken for half an hour. Then there
+came a commotion in camp, for four drovers came in with two dozen
+horses that had been ordered for the use of the engineering party.</p>
+
+<p>“Step outside, Reade, and see the horses, if you care to do so,”
+suggested Mr. Thurston, reaching for his sombrero.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, sir; but the horses will keep, and I’m greatly interested
+in finishing my drawing so that I can take up more work.”</p>
+
+<p>“That young cub, Reade, is no idler.” thought the chief, as he
+stepped into the open.</p>
+
+<p>Tom kept steadily at work.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later, Thurston still being absent, Eugene Black strolled
+into the tent. He glanced at Tom’s drawing with some contempt,
+then inquired:</p>
+
+<p>“Drawing, boy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, not?” laughed Tom. “I’m only one of the stable boys, and,
+as you can see, I’m currying a horse.”</p>
+
+<p>“Stop that sort of nonsense with me, right at the start,” flashed
+Black angrily, striding closer. “I don’t allow boys to be fresh
+with me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the boy?” drawled Tom, turning slightly, for a better view
+of the stranger’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re one,” snapped Black.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you?” Tom asked curiously.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m an engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that is anything to be chesty about, then I’m an engineer also,”
+Reade replied, rising.</p>
+
+<p>“Sit down, boy!” commanded Black angrily.</p>
+
+<p>The trace of frown on Reade’s face disappeared. He smiled
+good-humoredly as he observed.</p>
+
+<p>“Black, I’m a bit uncertain about you.”</p>
+
+<p>“_Mister_ Black, boy!” warned the other, his dark eyes snapping.
+“Why are you uncertain about me?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m wondering,” purred Tom gently, “whether you are just _trying_
+to be offensive, or whether you don’t know any better than to talk
+and act the way you do?”</p>
+
+<p>“You young puppy, I’ll teach you something right now,” cried Black,
+stepping closer and raising a clenched fist.</p>
+
+<p>“Look out,” begged Tom. “You’ll upset my drawing table.”</p>
+
+<p>Eugene Black closed in, striking out. Reade who felt that the
+situation didn’t call for any fighting, retreated, still smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Whether by accident or design, Black, as he made a half turn to
+start after the cub engineer anew, brushed a corner of the unstable
+drawing table hard enough to tip it over. A bottle of drawing
+ink fell, too, splashing ugly black blotches over Tom’s carefully
+drawn outlines of a map.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, you’ve done it!” exclaimed Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t quite finished,” snapped the stranger, rushing after Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going to box your ears soundly, boy!”</p>
+
+<p>“Are you, indeed?” demanded Tom, halting. He was still smiling,
+but there was a stern look in his eyes. Tom no longer retreated,
+but stood awaiting Black’s assault.</p>
+
+<p>Blanks fist shot out straight, but Reade didn’t stop the blow.
+Instead, he ducked low. When he came up his arms enveloped Black’s
+legs in one of the swift football tackles that Tom had learned
+with the Gridley High School football team.</p>
+
+<p>“You annoy me,” drawled Tom, and hurled the fellow ten feet away.
+Black landed on his back with an angry roar, followed by cursing.</p>
+
+<p>“Profanity is always objectionable to a gentleman,” declared Tom
+dryly, running over ere the newcomer could regain his feet. Once
+more Reade bent and rose. As he did so, Eugene Black shot through
+the tent doorway, landing on the ground a dozen feet beyond.</p>
+
+<p>Tom stood in the doorway, smiling. Black leaped to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>“You puppy!” gasped Black, sending his right hand back to his
+hip pocket. Tom didn’t wait to see what he would bring out, but
+darted forward. This time he seized the stranger in a dead tackle,
+dropping him over on his back without throwing him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, roll over,” ordered Reade grimly. “I’m curious to see what
+you have in your pocket. Ah! So—-this is it! You’re another
+Peter Bad, are you?”</p>
+
+<p>Tom held in one hand a silver-plated revolver with ivory handle
+that he had snatched out of Black’s pocket.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder why it is,” mocked Tom, grinning, “that nine out of
+every ten dude tenderfeet from the east come west with one of
+these things.”</p>
+
+<p>Black charged the cub, intent on recapturing his pistol, but Reade
+shot out a foot, tripping him. Then Tom ran nimbly over to the
+cook tent. Here he halted, breaking the weapon at the breech
+and allowing the cartridges to drop into his hand. He transferred
+them to his pocket, then wheeled and picked up Jake’s kitchen
+hatchet.</p>
+
+<p>With a few swift strokes from the head of the hatchet Tom put
+that firearm on the retired list for good.</p>
+
+<p>“Give me my pistol, boy!” choked Black, running up.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly,” rejoined Reade, wheeling and politely offering the
+ruined firearm. “I don’t want it. I’ve no use for such things”</p>
+
+<p>Black took his weapon, gasped, then, seizing it by the barrel,
+leaped at Tom, intent on battering his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, what’s the trouble?” cried Mr. Thurston, appearing around
+the corner of the cook house and promptly seizing Black by the
+collar of his flannel shirt.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing much, sir,” laughed Tom. “Mr. Black has just been showing
+me how bad men behave out in this part of the country.”</p>
+
+<p>“This boy is a troublesome cub, Mr. Thurston,” declared Black
+hotly. “Do you see what he has done to my revolvers”</p>
+
+<p>“How did Reade come to have it?” inquired Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“He snatched it away from me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, is this true?” demanded the chief engineer, turning to
+the youth.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir; as far as the story goes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me the whole truth of this affair,” ordered Mr. Thurston
+sternly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom started to do so, modestly, but Black broke in angrily at
+points in the narrative.</p>
+
+<p>“The principal thing that I have against Mr. Black,” Tom said,
+“is that he spoiled all my drawing work of this morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; but how did I come to do it?” insisted the newcomer. “You
+pushed me against your drawing table.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom started with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>“My friend,” he remarked, “Baron Munchausen never had anything
+on you!”</p>
+
+<p>“Careful, Reade! Don’t pass the lie,” ordered the chief engineer
+sternly. “I shall look fully into this matter, but at present
+I’m inclined to believe that you’re more at fault than is Black.
+Return to the tent and start your drawing over again.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a smile again on Tom’s face as he turned back to make
+his spoiled work good.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston went back to his inspection of the ponies. Later,
+the chief engineer was able to pick up some details of the trouble
+from Jake Wren, who had seen Black reach for his revolver.</p>
+
+<p>“Understand two things, Mr. Black,” said the chief briskly. “In
+the first place, it is not expected that the engineers of this
+corps will find any real cause for fighting. Second, I will tolerate
+no pistol nonsense here.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he went back to Tom Reade and spoke to him more quietly.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, if Black doesn’t turn out to be a valuable man here he
+won’t last long. If he is a good man, then you will find it necessary,
+perhaps, to use a little tact in dealing with him. Did you notice
+what snapping black eyes the man has? Men with such black eyes
+are usually impulsive. Remember that.”</p>
+
+<p>“I never thought of that before, sir,” Tom admitted dryly. “I
+really didn’t know that people with black eyes are impulsive.
+This I do know, however, people who are too impulsive generally
+get black eyes!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br><span class="small">“DOCTORED” FIELD NOTES?</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>There was no more trouble—-immediately. When the other engineers
+heard of the row—-which news they obtained through Jake, not
+from Reade—-they soon made it plain to ’Gene Black that Tom Reade
+was a favorite in the corps. Black was therefore treated with
+a coldness that he strove hard to overcome.</p>
+
+<p>In the matter of being a capable civil engineer ’Gene Black speedily
+proved himself efficient. Assistant Chief Engineer Blaisdell
+soon reported at headquarters that the new member of the corps
+was an exceedingly valuable man. Black was therefore placed at
+the head of a leveling squad that obtained the field notes from
+which were to be estimated the cost of making excavations in several
+cuts that must be made ere the coming tracks could be laid.</p>
+
+<p>In the days that passed Tom and Harry saw little of the field
+work. They were kept at the chief’s tent. Hence Reade had but
+little to do with ’Gene Black, which may have been fortunate,
+as Tom still retained his first instinctive dislike for the black-eyed
+fellow.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>“Reade and Hazelton, you two young men are going to forge ahead
+rapidly, and you are sure to earn good salaries, if you don’t
+make the too common mistake of young engineers first starting
+out,” Mr. Thurston told the cubs one forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>“And what is that mistake, sir, if you please?” Tom queried.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t make the mistake of getting too large an idea of the value
+of your services,” replied the chief. “Just work hard all the
+time and be wholly unassuming.</p>
+
+<p>“I think we can follow that advice, sir,” Tom replied, with a
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>“If you can, you’ll get along rapidly. I have already written
+to our officers in New York, thanking them for having sent you
+two young men.”</p>
+
+<p>“Here’s the map I have just finished, sir,” said Harry, rising
+from his drawing table on which were arranged the various draughtsman’s
+inks and washes—-the latter being thin solutions of water colors
+with which some parts of the maps were colored.</p>
+
+<p>“Very handsomely done, Hazelton. Reade, what are you doing?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m at work on Black’s field notes of the leveling,” Tom answered.</p>
+
+<p>“I am very much pleased with Black’s work,” replied Mr. Thurston.
+“His notes show that we are going to get out of the excavating
+in the cuts at about one third of the trouble and expense that
+I had looked for.”</p>
+
+<p>“Black’s field notes certainly do look good, sir, for they show
+that you can get the work through on this division in much less
+time than you had supposed.”</p>
+
+<p>As he turned around to speak, Tom sat where he could easily see
+the colored field map that Harry had just turned in to the chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold on, there, Harry,” Tom objected.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve lined in a pretty high hill on Section Nineteen. You’ll
+have to cut that down a bit.”</p>
+
+<p>“The surveyor’s field notes call for that hill,” Hazelton retorted.</p>
+
+<p>“But, as it happens,” objected Tom, “I’m just working out the
+profile drawing of Section Nineteen from Black’s notes. See here——-”
+Tom rested a pencil point on a portion of the hill depicted on
+Hazelton’s map. “You’ve drawn that pretty steep. Now, as you’ll
+see by Black’s notes, the upgrade at that point is only a three
+per cent. grade.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! It’s all of an eight per cent. grade,” grunted Hazelton.
+“See, here are the surveyor’s field notes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Three per cent. grade,” insisted Tom, holding forward Black’s
+leveling notes.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a difference there, then, that must be reconciled,” broke
+in Mr. Thurston, rising, a look of annoyance on his face. “We
+can’t have any such disagreement as that between the field map
+and the profile sheet. Let us find out, at once, where the trouble
+lies.”</p>
+
+<p>Yet the more the three pondered over the matter the greater became
+the puzzle. The notes of the surveyor, Matt Rice, and of the
+leveler, ’Gene Black, were at utter variance.</p>
+
+<p>“We must get hold of these men as soon as they come in tonight,”
+exclaimed Mr. Thurston, much disturbed. “We must find out just
+which one is at fault.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rice is a very reliable man, sir,” spoke up Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; but Blaisdell reports that Black thoroughly understands
+his work, too,” grumbled the chief. “We must settle this tonight.”</p>
+
+<p>“May I make a suggestion, sir?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly. Go ahead.”</p>
+
+<p>“There is no use, sir, in my going ahead with this profile drawing,
+if there’s a chance that the sights turned in by Black are wrong.
+Until we know, my time at this drawing board may all be wasted.
+Trotter, one of the rodmen, is in camp today. I might take him,
+and a level along, and go over the foresights and backsights myself.
+All of the stakes will be in place. In two hours I ought to
+have a very good set of leveling notes. Then I can bring them
+back and compare them with Black’s sights.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can you run a level well?” inquired Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course I can, sir. It’s simple enough work, and I’ve done
+a good bit of it in the east.”</p>
+
+<p>“Go along, then, and see if you can throw any light on this,”
+sighed the disturbed chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade really ought to have two rodmen,” broke in Harry eagerly.
+“May I go along, sir, to serve as the other rodman?”</p>
+
+<p>“Run along,” assented Mr. Thurston. “Remember, boys, I can’t
+go any further until this tangle is settled. Come back as speedily
+as you can.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry snatched up their sombreros, hurrying forth. Trotter
+was found readily, and was ordered to saddle three ponies. Tom
+busied himself in picking out the best leveling instrument in
+camp, while Hazelton secured the rods and a chain. Then the party
+set forth in Indian file, Tom riding in advance.</p>
+
+<p>A trot of half an hour brought them to Section Nineteen. Here
+Tom speedily adjusted his instrument, taking up his post over
+the first stake at the bottom of the hill.</p>
+
+<p>Leveling is not difficult work, though it calls for some judgment
+and a good deal of care. For instance, when Tom set his telescope
+exactly level and took a reading of the rod at the second stake,
+which Harry held, he read the height as eight feet and four inches.
+Then he trudged forward, carrying his instrument, while Trotter
+held his rod exactly perpendicular over the first stake. From
+the second stake Tom sighted back through his telescope, reading
+two feet three inches. The difference between these two readings
+was six feet and one inch, showing that, for the distance between
+first and second stakes the rise in the hillside was six feet
+one inch. Thereupon Reade turned and sighted, from stake number
+two to stake number three, noting in his book the reading he secured
+from the rod at number three. Once at number three he turned
+his telescope backward, taking a reading from Trotter’s rod at
+number two. Ten stakes were thus covered, and not only were the
+foresights and backsights read and recorded, but the distance
+between each pair of stakes was measured with the chain and the
+distances entered on the record.</p>
+
+<p>At stake number ten Tom halted.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry,” he directed, “you take Black’s leveling notes and hold
+them while I read my own notes. Stop me every time that you note
+a difference between the two records.”</p>
+
+<p>After that Harry steadily stopped his chum at every reading.
+By the time that they had finished the comparisons Hazelton’s
+face looked blank from sheer astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, every single one of Blacks foresights and backsights is
+wrong!” gasped Harry. “And yet Mr. Blaisdell reported that ’Gene
+Black is such a fine engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom turned to make sure that Trotter was resting out of hearing
+before he replied:</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, Black isn’t such a fool as to bring in an absolutely wrong
+record of sights, and yet do it innocently. If he didn’t do it
+unintentionally, then he must have tangled the record purposely.”</p>
+
+<p>“But why should he do it purposely?” Harry insisted. “He would
+know that, sooner or later, his blunders or lies would be discovered,
+and that he would be discharged. Now, Black really wants to hold
+his job with this outfit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Does he?” asked Tom bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know,” Reade confessed. “I never heard of any such bungle
+as this before by an engineer. Why, Harry, this hillside averages
+an eight and a third grade, yet Black’s field notes show it to
+be only a three per cent. grade. Hang it, the fellow must have
+played the trick purposely!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yet why?” pressed Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll admit that I can’t understand. Unless, well—-unless——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Say it!”</p>
+
+<p>“Unless Black joined this outfit with the express purpose of
+queering all the work of the entire corps as he could easily
+do. Harry, do you think that Black could possibly be serving
+with this outfit as the paid tool of the rival road, the W.C.
+&amp; A.? Can he be the enemy’s spy within our lines—-sent to prevent
+our finishing the road on time?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br><span class="small">THINGS BEGIN TO GO DOWN HILL</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“I suppose I’m thick,” Harry murmured. “How would Black, by turning
+in some wrong backsights and foresights, expect to delay the building
+of the road, even if he wanted to do it?”</p>
+
+<p>“How?” repeated Tom Reade, showing an amount of heat and excitement
+that he rarely displayed. “Why, Harry, this same old Section
+Nineteen is one of the hard spots on the road. A lot of excavating
+has to be done before the tracks can be laid here. It’s not a
+mere matter of scooping up dirt and removing it, either. A large
+amount of solid rock has to be blasted out here before the roadbed
+can be laid.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know it,” Harry nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, at the present moment our chief, Mr. Thurston, is
+preparing the estimates for the work that must be done. On his
+estimates will be based the strength of the laboring gangs that
+must come forward to do the work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, suppose that Mr. Thurston has been misled into making a
+certain estimate as to the number of thousand cubic yards of stuff
+that must be taken out of the outs that are to be made. After
+he gets his laborers here, and at work, he finds that he has at
+least three times as much rock and dirt to get out——-”</p>
+
+<p>“I see,” cried Hazelton. “Before the chief could get men and
+wagons, and make all necessary changes in the work, the time would
+have slipped by so far that the finishing of the road would be
+blocked.”</p>
+
+<p>“And the S.B. &amp; L. would lose its charter,” finished Tom grimly.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s mighty lucky that we came out here today, then,” exclaimed
+Hazelton, now fully alive to the danger that menaced their employers.
+“Come, we must hustle back to camp and show Mr. Thurston how
+he has been imposed on. There can’t be a doubt that ’Gene Black
+has been deliberately crooked.”</p>
+
+<p>“Go slowly,” advised Tom. “Don’t be in a rush to call any other
+man a crook. Mr. Thurston can hear our report. Then he can look
+into it himself and form his own opinion. That’s as far as we
+have any right to go in the matter.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thurston is at fault in not having come out here himself,” Harry
+continued. “The chief engineer in charge of a job should know
+every foot of the way.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thurston, from the nature of his own work, is obliged to leave
+much of the detail to his assistant, Mr. Blaisdell,” Tom explained.</p>
+
+<p>“Then why doesn’t Blaisdell look out that no such treacherous
+work is done by any member of the engineer corps?” flared Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“’Gene Black is plainly a very competent man,” Reade argued.
+“The work has had to be rushed of late, and, on so simple a matter
+as leveling, I don’t suppose Blaisdell has thought it at all necessary
+to dig into Black’s field notes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope Black is fired out of this outfit, neck and crop!” finished
+Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s something with which we have nothing to do,” Reade retorted.
+“Harry, we’ll confine ourselves to doing our work well and reporting
+our results. Mr. Thurston is intelligent enough to form all his
+own conclusions when he has our report. Come, it’s high time
+for us to be putting the ponies to real speed on the trail back.”</p>
+
+<p>Not long afterwards the young engineers rode into the engineer
+camp. Harry dismounted, seating himself on the ground, while
+Tom hurried toward the chief’s big tent.</p>
+
+<p>It was Blaisdell who sat in the chief’s chair when Tom entered.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, hello, Reade,” was the assistant’s pleasant greeting.</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the chief?”</p>
+
+<p>“Gone back to the track builders. You know, they’re within fourteen
+miles of us now.”</p>
+
+<p>“When will Mr. Thurston be back?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know,” Blaisdell answered. “In the meantime, Reade, you
+know, I’m acting chief here.”</p>
+
+<p>“I beg your pardon,” Tom murmured hastily.</p>
+
+<p>“The chief told me, just before leaving, that you thought some of
+Black’s sights on Section Nineteen are wrong,” Blaisdell pursued.</p>
+
+<p>“They’re all wrong,” Reade rejoined quietly.</p>
+
+<p>“_All_?” echoed Blaisdell, opening his eyes very wide.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir; everyone of them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Come, come, Reade!” remonstrated the acting chief. “Don’t try
+to amuse yourself with me. All of the sights can’t be wrong.”</p>
+
+<p>“But they are, sir. Hazelton and I have been over them most carefully
+in the field. Here are _our_ notes, sir. Look them over and
+you’ll find that Section Nineteen calls for three or four times
+as much excavating as Black’s notes show.”</p>
+
+<p>“This is strange!” mused Blaisdell, after comparing the two sets
+of notes. “I can’t credit it. Reade, you and Hazelton are very
+young—-mere cubs, in fact. Are you sure that you know all you
+owlet to know about leveling?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Blaisdell, I’ll answer you by saying, sir, that though Hazelton
+and I are nothing but cubs, we have the success of this railroad
+building game at heart. We’re deeply in earnest. We’ll work
+ourselves to our very bones in order to see this road get through
+in time. I don’t ask you, sir, to take our word about these sights,
+but we both beg you, sir, to go out with a gang of men and go
+over some of the work yourself. Keep on surveying, sir, until
+you’re satisfied that Black is wrong and that Hazelton and I are
+right. You know what it would mean, sir, if we’re right and you
+don’t find it out in time. Then you simply couldn’t get the cut
+through Section Nineteen in time and the S.B. &amp; L. would lose
+its charter.”</p>
+
+<p>“By Jove, you’re right,” muttered Blaisdell uneasily, as he slowly
+stood up. “Reade, I’m going to take men and go out, carrying
+your notes and Black’s. Let me warn you, however, that if I find
+that Black is right and you’re wrong, then it will give you two
+cubs such a black eye that the chief will run you out of camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“If we had made any such gigantic blunder as that,” returned Tom
+firmly, “then we’d deserve to be run out. We wouldn’t have the
+nerve to put in another night in camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hey, you, don’t unsaddle those ponies. Hold yourselves ready
+to go out,” called Blaisdell from the doorway of the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Will you give us our orders on drawing before you go, sir?” asked
+Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” smiled Blaisdell. “If you’ve made a blunder out on Nineteen,
+then you’re not to be trusted with drawing. Wait until I return.
+Take it easy until then.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very good.”</p>
+
+<p>“And—-Reade!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Neither you nor Hazelton are to let a word cross your lips regarding
+the disagreement over Section Nineteen.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll never have any trouble, sir, over our talking when we ought
+not to do it,” promised Reade.</p>
+
+<p>Two minutes later the assistant engineer rode out with a pair of
+rodmen whom he picked up on the way to Nineteen.</p>
+
+<p>“What happened?” asked Harry, coming into the big tent.</p>
+
+<p>Tom told him all that had taken place, adding the caution that
+nothing was to be said about the matter for the present.</p>
+
+<p>“Whew! I wish Mr. Blaisdell had let me go along,” murmured Hazelton.
+“I’d like to have seen his face when he finds out!”</p>
+
+<p>Hearing footsteps approaching outside, Reade signaled for silence.
+Then the flap of the tent was pulled back and Bad Pete glanced in.</p>
+
+<p>“Howdy, pardners?” was the greeting from the bad man, that caused
+Tom Reade almost to fall from his campstool.</p>
+
+<p>“How are you, Peter?” returned Tom. “This is, indeed, a pleasure.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the boss?” continued Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“If you mean Mr. Thurston, he’s away.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s Blaisdell, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“He hit the trail, just a few minutes ago,” Tom responded.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I suppose you have no objections if I sit in here a while?”</p>
+
+<p>“Peter,” replied Tom solemnly, “you’ll be conferring a great honor
+on us.”</p>
+
+<p>The bad man’s present mood was so amiable that Harry did not deem
+it desertion to go outside. Bad Pete had his cartridge belt restocked
+with sure-enough cartridges, and his revolver swung as jauntily
+in its holster as ever. Pete seemed to have no idea, however, of
+trying to terrify anyone with his hardware.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve been away?” suggested Tom, by way of making conversation,
+after an awkward silence had endured for nearly two minutes.</p>
+
+<p>“Yep,” admitted the bad one. “Pardner, it seems like home to
+get back. Do you know, Reade, I’ve taken a big liking to you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Peter,” protested Tom, “if you don’t look out you’ll make me
+the vainest cub on earth.”</p>
+
+<p>“I mean it,” asserted Pete. “Pardner, I’ve a notion me and you
+are likely to become big friends.”</p>
+
+<p>“I never dared to hope for so much,” breathed Tom, keeping back
+a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“’Cause,” continued Bad Pete, “I reckon you’re one of the kind
+that never goes back on a real pardner.”</p>
+
+<p>“I should hope not,” Tom assured him.</p>
+
+<p>“Have a cigar?” urged Pete, doffing his sombrero and taking out
+a big, black weed that he tendered the cub.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with it?” asked Tom curiously.</p>
+
+<p>For just a second Bad Pete’s eyes flashed. Then he choked back
+all signs of anger as he drawled:</p>
+
+<p>“The only matter with this cigar, pardner, is that it’s a gen-u-wine
+Havana cigar.”</p>
+
+<p>“I couldn’t tell it from a genuine Baltimore,” asserted Tom.
+“But I suppose that is because I never smoked.”</p>
+
+<p>“You never smoked? Pardner, you’ve got a lot to learn,” replied
+Bad Pete, as he put the cigar back in his hat and replaced the
+latter on his head. “And, while we’re talking about such matters,
+pardner, you might just hand me a twenty for a few days.”</p>
+
+<p>“Twenty dollars?” returned Tom. “Peter, until payday gets around
+I won’t have twenty cents.”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete gazed at the cub keenly.</p>
+
+<p>“Fact!” Tom assured him.</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” grunted Pete, rising. “I’ve been wasting my time on a pauper!”</p>
+
+<p>Saying which, he stalked out.</p>
+
+<p>Tom discreetly repressed his desire to laugh. Hazelton glided
+into the tent, grinning.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, be careful not to string Bad Pete so hard, or, one of these
+days, you’ll get him so mad that he won’t be able to resist drilling
+you through with lead.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s go over to the cook tent and either beg or steal something
+to eat,” proposed Reade.</p>
+
+<p>It was two hours later when a rodman rode hurriedly into camp.</p>
+
+<p>“Hey, you cubs,” he called, “come and help me get Mr. Blaisdell’s
+bed ready for him. He’s coming back sick.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sick?” demanded Reade, thunderstruck. “Why, he looked healthy
+enough when he went out of camp a little while ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’s sick enough, now,” retorted the rodman.</p>
+
+<p>“What ails Mr. Blaisdell?” asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s mountain fever, I reckon,” rejoined the rodman. “Blaisdell
+must have been off color for days, and didn’t really know it.”</p>
+
+<p>All three worked rapidly getting everything in readiness for the
+coming of the assistant engineer. Then Mr. Blaisdell was brought
+in, on a stretcher rigged between two ponies. The acting chief
+is face was violently flushed, his eyes seemed bright as diamonds.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” said the acting chief thickly, as they lifted him from
+the litter to his cot, “if I’m not better by morning you’ll have
+to get word to the chief.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” assented Reade, placing a hand on Blaisdell’s forehead.
+It felt hot and feverish. “May I ask, sir, if you verified any
+of the sights on Nineteen?”</p>
+
+<p>“I—-I took some of ’em,” replied the acting chief hesitatingly.
+“Reade, I’m not sure that I remember aright, but I think—-I
+think—-you and Hazelton were correct about that. I—-wish I
+could—-remember.”</p>
+
+<p>Bill Blaisdell closed his eyes, and his voice trailed off into
+murmurs that none around him could understand. Even Reade, with
+his very slight experience in such matters, realized that the
+acting chief was a very sick man.</p>
+
+<p>“You cubs better clear out of here now,” suggested one of the
+rodmen. “I know better how to take care of men with mountain fever.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you do know more about nursing than I do, Carter,” replied
+Tom very quietly. “In the future, however, don’t forget that,
+though I may be a cub, I am an engineer, and you are a rodman.
+When you speak to me address me as Mr. Reade. Come, men, all
+out of here but the nurse.”</p>
+
+<p>Once in the open Tom turned to Harry with eyes ablaze.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, could anything be tougher? The chief away, the acting
+chief down with fever and on the verge of delirium—-and a crooked
+engineer in our crowd who’s doing his best to sell out the S.B.
+&amp; L.—-bag, baggage and charter!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br><span class="small">THE CHIEF TOTTERS FROM COMMAND</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>It was not like Tom Reade to waste time in wondering what to do.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry,” he continued, once more turning upon his chum, “I want
+you to get a pony saddled as fast as you can. You know that the
+telegraph wire is being brought along as fast as it can be done.
+This morning I heard Rutter say that it was hardly five miles
+back of us on the trail. Get into saddle, wire the chief at the
+construction camp, and bring back his orders as fast as you can
+ride.”</p>
+
+<p>Hazelton replied only with a nod, then broke into a sprint for
+the spot where the saddle animals were tethered. Two minutes
+later Harry, though not a crack horseman, left camp at a gallop.</p>
+
+<p>In Blaisdell’s tent matters dragged along. Ice was needed, but
+none was to be had. Cloths were wrung out in spring water and
+applied to the sick man’s head. Within half an hour Tom received
+word that the acting chief was “out of his head.”</p>
+
+<p>Later on Hazelton galloped back into camp bearing this despatch:</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, Engineer Corps.
+Take charge of camp until Rutter returns. Then turn over charge
+to him. Rush for the nearest physician; engage him to remain
+at camp and look after Blaisdell. I return tonight.
+(Signed) Thurston, Chief Engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Men,” called Tom striding over to the little party of rodmen,
+“tell me where the nearest physician is to be found.”</p>
+
+<p>“Doe Jitney, at Bear’s Cave,” replied one of the men.</p>
+
+<p>“How far is that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Fourteen miles, by the trail.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get on to a pony, then, and go after Dr. Gitney. Bring him here
+and tell him we’ll want him here for the present. Tell the doctor
+to bring all the medicines he’ll need, and both of you ride fast.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not going on your orders,” retorted the man sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, you are,” Tom informed him promptly. “I’m in charge, for
+the present, and acting under Mr. Thurston’s orders. If you don’t
+go, you won’t eat any more in this camp, or draw any more pay
+here. It’s work or jump for you—-and discharge if you lose or
+waste any time on the way. Mr. Blaisdell’s life is at stake.
+Rustle!”</p>
+
+<p>The man so ordered scowled, but he rose, went over and saddled
+a pony and rode out of camp.</p>
+
+<p>“That part is attended to,” sighed Tom. “Hang it, I wish we could
+get hold of some ice. I don’t know much, but I do know that ice
+is needed in high fevers. I wonder if anyone here knows where
+ice can be had? By Jove, there’s Peter! He knows more about
+this country than anyone else around here.”</p>
+
+<p>It was now within an hour of the time when the engineer parties
+might be expected hack into camp. Reade, however, was not of
+the sort to lose an hour needlessly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom had just caught sight of Bad Pete as the latter stepped through
+a little gully an eighth of a mile below the trail and vanished
+into some green brush.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll run after him,” Tom decided. “Pete wants a little money,
+and this will be a chance for him to earn it—-if he can find
+some man to drive a load of ice to camp.”</p>
+
+<p>Being a trained runner, Tom did not consume much time in nearing
+the spot where he had last seen Bad Pete. The lad put two fingers
+up to his mouth, intending to whistle, when he heard a twig snap
+behind him. Tom turned quickly, then, warned by some instinct,
+stepped noiselessly behind high brush. The newcomer was ’Gene
+Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Pete!” called Black softly.</p>
+
+<p>“Oy!” answered a voice some distance away.</p>
+
+<p>“That you, Pete?” called the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“Yep.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then close in here. I have doings for you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade should have stepped out into sight. He was neither
+spy nor eavesdropper. For once, something within urged him to
+keep out of sight and silent.</p>
+
+<p>“Where be you, pardner?” called Pete’s voice, nearer at hand now.</p>
+
+<p>“Right here, Pete,” called Black.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want, pardner?” demanded the bad man, coming through
+the brush.</p>
+
+<p>“Lend me a couple of hundred dollars, Pete,” laughed ’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you call me here for any such fool talk as that?” scowled Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” Black admitted. “Pete, I don’t believe you have two hundred
+dollars. But you’d like to have. Now, wouldn’t you!”</p>
+
+<p>“Two hundred silver bricks,” retorted Bad Pete, his eyes gleaming,
+“is the price of shooting up a whole town. Pardner, just get me an
+extra box of cartridges and lead me to that town! But have you got
+the money?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” laughed Black, holding up a roll of greenbacks. “This
+and more, too!”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete surveyed the money hungrily.</p>
+
+<p>“Some men who know me,” he muttered thickly, “would be afraid
+to show me a whole bankful of money when there was no one else
+looking.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not afraid of you, Pete,” replied Black quietly. “You might
+shoot me, if you felt you could get away with it. Do you notice
+that my left hand is in my pocket! I’m a left-handed shooter,
+you see.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete glanced covertly at that bulging left trousers’ pocket of
+the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t have to do anything like that to get the money, Pete.
+Save your cartridges for other people. There, I’ve let go of
+my gun. Come close and listen to what I have to say—-but only
+in your ear.”</p>
+
+<p>There followed some moments of whisperings Try as he would, Reade
+could not make out a word of what was being said until at last
+Bad Pete muttered audibly, in a low, hoarse voice:</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not doing that on your own account, Black?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Pete; I’m not.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you must really be working for the road that wants to steal
+the charter away—-the W.C. &amp; A.?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps so, Pete. You don’t need to know that. All you have
+to know is what I want done. I’m a business man, Pete, and money
+is the soul of business. Here!”</p>
+
+<p>Black peeled some banknotes from his roll.</p>
+
+<p>“Ten twenties, Pete. That makes the two hundred I was talking
+to you about. Understand, man, that isn’t your pay. That’s simply
+your expense money, for you to spend while you’re hanging about.
+Stick to me, do things just as I want them done, and your pay
+will run several times as high as your expense money.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for this sort o’ thing,
+pardner?” Pete inquired huskily.</p>
+
+<p>“No; of course not,” rejoined ’Gene Black rather impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>“All my life,” returned Bad Pete solemnly. “Pardner, I’ll sell
+myself to you for the money you’ve been talking about.”</p>
+
+<p>“Come along, then. We’re too near the camp. I want to talk with
+you where we’re not so likely to be interfered with by people who
+have too much curiosity.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that means me,” quoth Tom Reade inwardly, “the shoe fits to
+a nicety.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom followed the pair for a little way, with a stealth that was
+born in him for the present need. Then the plotters stepped into
+a rocky, open gully, where the cub engineer could not have followed
+without being seen.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, dear! I never wanted to follow anyone as much in my life!”
+groaned Reade in his disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing to do but to go back. Then, too, with a guilty
+start, Tom remembered the great need of ice for poor, fever-tossed,
+big-hearted Bill Blaisdell, who had been so kind to the two cubs
+from the hour of their arrival in the field camp.</p>
+
+<p>Just as he stepped into the camp area Tom espied Jack Rutter,
+who also saw him and came quickly forward.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Reade,” said Rutter, in
+a tone that was close to carrying reproach with it.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve been absent on real business, Rutter,” Tom answered, with
+a flush, nevertheless. “Mr. Blaisdell must have ice a lot of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Great Scott! Where shall we find it in these mountains in midsummer?”
+Rutter demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve got to have it, haven’t we?” Tom urged. “It will be the
+first thing that the doctor will call for.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then he should bring it with him,” returned Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Would you want the doctor to be hampered with a ton or so of
+ice!” asked Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Would we need that much?” Rutter seemed hopelessly ignorant in
+such matters.</p>
+
+<p>“I imagine we’d want a lot of it,” Tom answered. “By the way,
+Mr. Rutter——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Well?” Jack inquired.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was on the point of giving a hint of what he had heard in
+the gully during the meeting between Black and Bad Pete. Then,
+on second thought, the cub engineer decided to hold that news
+for the ear of Mr. Thurston alone.</p>
+
+<p>“What were you going to say?” pressed Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Probably Hazelton has told you,” Tom continued, “that you’re
+in charge here until Mr. Thurston arrives.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; and I’m mighty glad that the chief will be here before daylight
+tomorrow,” returned Jack. “I may be a fair sort of engineer, but I’m
+not cut out for a chief engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>Later, one of the rodmen was sent to guide Harry to the nearest
+small town, twenty-eight miles away, for ice. If they succeeded
+in obtaining it they might be back by dark of the following day.</p>
+
+<p>Supper in camp was a gloomy meal. No one felt light-hearted.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Rutter,” asked Tom, approaching the temporary chief, soon
+after the evening meal, “what do you want Hazelton and myself
+to do this evening?”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t ask me,” returned Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+“What have you been doing? Drawing?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why don’t you go on with it?”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re at a point where we need orders, for we’ve had to lay down
+one part of the work while waiting for further instructions.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t help you any, then,” replied Rutter. “Sorry, but before
+I could give any orders I’d need a few myself.”</p>
+
+<p>At eleven o’clock that night Dr. Gitney arrived, with saddle-bags
+full of medicines and other necessaries. He saw Blaisdell, and
+pronounced the assistant engineer a very sick man.</p>
+
+<p>Shortly after midnight Mr. Thurston rode into camp. He tottered
+from saddle and reeled until Tom, on the lookout for him, ran
+forward and supported the chief engineer to his tent.</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Gitney was sent for and came.</p>
+
+<p>“Your chief has mountain fever, too,” said the medical attendant
+to Tom, after stepping outside the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“How long will it take them to get well?” asked Wade anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Weeks! Hard to say,” replied the physician vaguely.</p>
+
+<p>“Weeks!” groaned Tom Reade. “And the camp now in charge of Jack
+Rutter, who’s a fine workman but no leader! Doc Gitney doesn’t
+know it, but he has sentenced the S.B. &amp; L. railroad to death!”</p>
+
+<p>It was a trying situation. The cub engineer felt it keenly, for
+he had set his heart on seeing the S.B. &amp; L. win out over its rival.</p>
+
+<p>Then, too, all in a flash, the memory of ’Gene Black’s treachery
+to his employers came back to the mind of Tom Reade.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br><span class="small">FROM CUB TO ACTING CHIEF</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Tom didn’t sleep that night. He sat by, silently, in the big
+tent, nursing the patient as Dr. Gitney directed.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning, at five, Matt Rice came. Tom gladly surrendered
+the post to him and took a scant hour of deep slumber on the bare
+ground outside.</p>
+
+<p>“Wake up, Reade,” ordered Rutter, at last shaking the cub and
+hauling him to his feet. “This is no place to sleep. Go to your
+tent and stretch out full length on your cot.”</p>
+
+<p>“On my cot?” demanded Tom, rubbing his eyes fiercely. “You can’t
+spare me from the day’s work?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe there will be any day’s work,” Rutter answered.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re in charge, man! You must put us to work,” Tom insisted.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know just what ought to be done,” complained Rutter.
+“I shall have to wait for orders.”</p>
+
+<p>“Orders?” repeated Tom, in almost breathless scorn. “From whom
+can you get orders?”</p>
+
+<p>“Howe is Thurston’s assistant at the lower camp,” Rutter rejoined.
+“He’ll have to come over here and take real charge. I’m going
+to send a messenger to the telegraph station and wire Mr. Howe
+to come here at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“See here, Rutter,” blazed Tom insistently, “Mr Howe is in charge of
+the construction forces. He’s laying the bed and the tracks. He
+can’t be spared from the construction work for even a day, or the
+road will fail to get through, no matter what we do here. Man,
+you’ve simply got to be up and doing! Make some mistakes, if you
+have to, but don’t lie down and kill the S.B. &amp; L. with inaction.”</p>
+
+<p>“Cub,” laughed Rutter good-humoredly, “you speak as if this were
+a big personal matter with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, isn’t it, thought” retorted Tom Reade with spirit. “My whole
+heart is centered on seeing the S.B. &amp; L. win out within the time
+granted by its charter. Rutter, if you don’t take hold with a
+rush and make a live, galloping start with your new responsibilities,
+I’m afraid I’ll go wild and assault you violently!”</p>
+
+<p>“Ha, ha, ha!” Jack laughed loudly.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, stop that cackling,” ordered Reade in the same low voice
+that he had been using. “Let’s get away from the chief’s tent.
+We’ll disturb him with our noise.”</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Gitney, entering the big tent five minutes later, found Mr.
+Thurston very much awake, for he had heard the low-voiced conversation
+outside the tent. Mr. Thurston was not quite as ill as was Blaisdell,
+and had not as yet reached the stage of delirium.</p>
+
+<p>“Doctor, I want you to summon the engineer corps here,” begged
+the patient.</p>
+
+<p>“When you’re better,” replied the doctor, with a hand on the sick
+man’s pulse.</p>
+
+<p>“Doc, you’d better let me have my way,” insisted Mr. Thurston
+in a weak voice. “If you don’t, you’ll make me five times more
+ill than I am at present.”</p>
+
+<p>Watching the fever glow in the man’s face deepen, and feeling
+the pulse go up several beats per minute, Dr. Gitney replied:</p>
+
+<p>“There, there, Thurston. Be good, and I’ll let you have three
+minutes with your engineers.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all I ask,” murmured the sick man eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Gitney went outside and rounded them up. All were present
+except ’Gene Black, who, according to Matt Rice, had taken a little
+walk outside of camp.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you’ll soon be better, sir,” began Rutter, as the engineers
+gathered at the cot of their stricken chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t say anything unnecessary, and don’t waste my time,” begged
+Mr. Thurston. “Rutter, do you feel equal to running this field
+corps until either Blaisdell or I can take charge again?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I don’t chief,” replied Jack. “I’ve sent a wire to Howe, urging
+him to come here and take charge.”</p>
+
+<p>“Howe can’t come,” replied the chief. “If he does, the construction
+work will go to pieces. This corps will have to be led by someone
+now present.”</p>
+
+<p>Morris and Rice gazed eagerly at their chief. Butter showed his
+relief at being allowed to hack out from full control.</p>
+
+<p>As for Timothy Thurston, he let his gaze wander from face to face.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade!” he almost whispered.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir!” answered Tom, stepping gently forward. “What can
+I do for you, sir?”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” came in another whisper, “can you—-have you the courage
+to take the post of acting chief?”</p>
+
+<p>Several gasps of astonishment broke on the air, but the greatest
+gasp of all came from Reade himself.</p>
+
+<p>“I think you need a little sleep now, sir,” urged Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not out of my head,” smiled Timothy Thurston wanly. “Doc
+Gitney will tell you that. Come—-for I’m growing very tired.
+Can you swing this outfit and push the S.B. &amp; L. through within
+charter time?”</p>
+
+<p>“I—-I—-hardly know what to say,” stammered Tom, who felt dizzy
+from the sudden rush of blood to his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Have you the courage to try?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir—-_I have_!” came, without further hesitation from Tom
+Reade. “I believe I’ll succeed, at that, for I’ll stake health,
+and even life, on winning out!”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s what I like to hear,” breathed Mr. Thurston, an added flush
+coming to his own face.</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen, it’s time to leave,” warned Dr. Gitney, watching his
+patient.</p>
+
+<p>“One moment more, Doc,” insisted the chief engineer feebly.
+“Gentlemen, you’ve heard what has just been said. Will everyone of
+you pledge himself on his honor to drop all feeling that might
+interfere? Will you all stand loyally by Reade, take his orders
+and help boost him and all the rest of us through to victory in this
+big game?”</p>
+
+<p>“I will!” spoke Jack Rutter earnestly and with a deep sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p>The others added their promises.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, you will take full charge here,” continued Timothy Thurston.
+“Notify Mr. Howe, too, at once. You and he will not need to
+conflict with each other in any way. Also notify the president
+of the road, at the New York offices. Wire him at once. Now—-thank
+you all, gentlemen. I believe I shall have to stop and go to sleep.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get out, all of you,” came firmly from bearded, middle-aged Dr.
+Gitney. “You fellows now have your acting chief to look to, and
+you don’t need to bother a sick man any more.”</p>
+
+<p>When Tom Reade stepped outside, on the heels of the others, he
+certainly didn’t feel as though treading on air. Instead, he
+wondered if he were going to reel and totter, so dizzy did he
+feel over the sudden realization of the responsibilities he had
+taken upon himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us our orders, chief,” begged Matt Rice, with a grin, when Tom
+joined the others over by the mess tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait a few moments,” urged Reade. “I don’t really know whether
+I am chief or a joke.”</p>
+
+<p>“Great Scott! After lecturing me the way you did, you are not going
+to get cold feet, are you?” gasped Jack Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll know what I mean before long,” Tom murmured. “I signaled
+to Dr. Gitney to follow me as soon as he could.”</p>
+
+<p>“How does it seem to know that you have only to beckon and that men
+must follow?” laughed Joe Grant. It is doubtful whether Tom, gazing
+at the chief’s big tent, even heard.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Dr. Gitney stepped outside and came toward them.</p>
+
+<p>“Doctor,” began Tom, “will you give me your word of honor that
+Mr. Thurston is in his right mind?”</p>
+
+<p>“He certainly impresses me as being so,” the physician replied.</p>
+
+<p>“You fully believe that he knew just what he was doing?” Tom insisted.</p>
+
+<p>“I do, Reade. But why should you care? You have the reins in your
+own hands now.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish to keep the reins there,” Tom returned quickly. “Still
+I don’t want to hold the power for an instant if there is reason
+to believe that Mr. Thurston didn’t know what he was doing.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that is all you required of me, Reade, rest easy and go ahead
+with the big trust that has been placed in your hands,” replied
+Dr. Gitney.</p>
+
+<p>“Then help me to get a few things out of the chief’s tent that we
+shall need,” replied Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me what the things are,” rejoined the physician, “and I’ll pass
+them out. I don’t want one of you in there, or Thurston will soon be
+as delirious as Blaisdell is, poor fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>By stealth, drawing tables and instruments, several boxes of maps,
+books and papers and other necessary articles were taken from
+Mr. Thurston tent without awaking the sick man.</p>
+
+<p>These were removed to a tent that was not occupied at the moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Supper’s ready, folks,” announced Bob, the cook’s helper, stepping
+softly through camp.</p>
+
+<p>Tom joined the other engineers, taking a few hasty mouthfuls.
+Hardly had the party gathered in the mess tent when ’Gene Black,
+bright and cheery, stepped in swiftly, nodding here and there.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Rutter, I take it you are running the camp from now on?”
+asked Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Guess just once more,” replied Jack.</p>
+
+<p>“Who is, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade.”</p>
+
+<p>Black gulped, then grinned.</p>
+
+<p>“The cub? That’s good!”</p>
+
+<p>Black leaned back on his stool, laughing loudly.</p>
+
+<p>“But who _is_ going to boss the camp?” insisted Black, after he had
+had his laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade!” flung back the other engineers in one voice.</p>
+
+<p>“What have you to say to this, cub?” asked ’Gene Black, turning
+to Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston placed me in charge because no one else would assume
+the responsibility,” smiled Tom good-humoredly.</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re going to stay boss for the present?”</p>
+
+<p>“Unless Mr. Thurston changes his mind.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, what a fool I was to be away this afternoon!” groaned Black
+to himself. “I could have gotten this chance away from a cub like
+Reade. Oh, but my real task would have been easy if I had been here
+on deck, and had got Thurston to turn matters over to me. Reade
+will be easy! He’s only a cub—-a booby. Even if he proved
+shrewd—-well, I have at my disposal several ways of getting rid
+of him!”</p>
+
+<p>Then, aloud, Black went on:</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, I’m a candidate for the post of acting assistant chief
+engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>“That goes to Rutter, if he’ll take it,” replied Tom, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I’ll take it,” nodded Jack Rutter. “I can follow orders, when
+I have someone else to give them.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom was intentionally pleasant with ’Gene Black. He intended
+to remain pleasant—-until he was quite ready to act.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately after supper Tom ordered one of the chainmen to saddle
+a pony and be ready to take a message back to the telegraph service
+that was rapidly overtaking them.</p>
+
+<p>“I want you to be sure to get a receipt for the message from the
+operator,” Tom explained. “Direct the operator to get the message
+through to New York at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the use?” demanded the chainman. “It’s night in New York,
+the same as it is here. If the message goes through at any time
+tonight it will do.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t ask you that,” Tom replied quietly. “I told you to
+instruct the operator, from me, to send the message at once.
+Then, if there is any delay on the way, the message will still
+be in New York in the morning when the company’s offices open.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom Reade went to the new headquarters’ tent, seated himself
+at the desk and picked up a pen.</p>
+
+<p>“Whew!” he muttered suddenly. “This message is going to be harder
+to write than I thought! When the president of the S.B. &amp; L. gets
+my telegram, informing him that a cub is in command here, he’ll blow
+up! If he recovers he’ll wire me that he’s sending a grown man for
+the job!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br><span class="small">BLACK TURNS OTHER COLORS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Through the night Tom Reade managed to get some sound sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Had he been less exhausted physically the excitement caused by
+his sudden and dizzying promotion might have interfered with his
+rest. As it was, he slept like a log, though, by his own orders,
+he was called twice in the night to be informed as to the condition
+of the two sick men.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning a male nurse for whom Dr. Gitney had arranged arrived
+in camp. Thereafter the physician had a little opportunity for rest.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston reached the delirium stage in his illness that forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, I don’t feel like going out this morning,” announced ’Gene
+Black, approaching the young head of the camp after early breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter?” Tom asked pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>“I have rather a bad headache,” complained Black.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a woman’s complaint,” smiled Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Just the same, I’m not fit for duty,” retorted Black rather testily.
+“I hope I’m not going to come down with the fever, but I can’t be
+sure.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’d better stay in camp, then,” nodded Reade. “Don’t go out into
+the field again until you feel like work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! He takes it easily enough,” grunted Black to himself
+as the young chief strode away to confer with Butter. “I wonder
+if the cub suspects the game I’m playing here? Oh, pshaw! Of
+course he doesn’t suspect. Why should he? The truth is that
+Cub Reade doesn’t realize how much every man is needed in the
+field. Reade doesn’t understand the big need for hustle here.
+Well, that all helps to make my task the easier.”</p>
+
+<p>Within five minutes Rutter and the other engineers had their full
+instructions. As they started away Tom called after them:</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen, if there is any possible way of putting fifty per cent.
+more work into each day, now, I know I can rely upon you all to do
+it. The S.B. &amp; L. must run its first train over the completed road
+within charter time.”</p>
+
+<p>Now, Tom had opportunity to wonder what had happened to Harry
+Hazelton, who should have been back in camp the preceding evening.
+“He must have had to go farther for ice than we imagined,”
+was the only conclusion Reade could form. “At any rate, Harry
+won’t come back until he has it. He won’t bring back merely an
+excuse when his commission was for a ton of ice.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom wandered into the new headquarters’ tent, heaved a big sigh
+as the weight of his new responsibilities struck him with full
+force, and began a systematic examination of all the piles of
+papers and maps now under his charge.</p>
+
+<p>By nine o’clock Harry Hazelton and his guide returned, followed
+by a four-mule transport wagon.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, hearing the approach, came out and beckoned. Harry rode
+up, dismounting.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I got the ice, you see,” announced Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you have to go very far for it?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; but you and I forgot to allow for the time that mules would
+need for rest on such a steep, uphill climb. Where is the ice to go?”</p>
+
+<p>“Send the man over to Jake Wren. Jake knows more about such things
+than you or I will know within the next ten years.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry carried the order to the driver, then hurried back.</p>
+
+<p>“How are our sick men?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Both alive, but delirious. Doc Gitney has a man nurse to help
+him now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did Mr. Rutter leave any orders for me?” pressed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“No; Rutter is in charge of the actual field work only.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who gives the main orders?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do—-unless New York changes the plan.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom hastily narrated what had taken place in Mr. Thurston’s tent
+the day before. Harry listened, his eyes growing larger as he
+heard.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom! I’m mighty glad!” he cried delightedly. “You’re going
+to do the trick, too! You’re going to put the S.B. &amp; L. through
+within the time allowed by the charter!”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going to do it or wear myself out,” replied Reade, with a
+glint of determination in his eyes. “But, Harry, the road isn’t
+going to go through on mere wind. We’ve got to work—-not talk!
+Come into the new headquarters’ tent. Throw the front of your
+shirt open, take a few deep breaths, tie down the safety valve
+and get ready to make the steam fly. I’m going over the maps
+and documents, the field notes, the reports and what not. I want
+you to help me untangle them and set all matters straight.”</p>
+
+<p>For two hours the cub engineers worked as they had never toiled
+before. Then a horseman drew up before their tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Telegram for Reade, acting chief engineer,” called the man from
+saddle. “The czar over at the cook house told me I’d find my
+man here.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m Reade,” admitted Tom, stepping outside and receiving the
+envelope. “Do you belong with the telegraph construction crowd?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” replied the young horseman.</p>
+
+<p>“How long before you expect to have the line up with the camp?”</p>
+
+<p>“By tomorrow night, unless you move the camp forward again.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s good news,” nodded Reade. “Wait until I see whether there
+is to be an answer to this message.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom stepped inside, breaking the flap of the envelope. From head
+to foot he trembled as his eyes took in the following message:</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, Acting Chief Engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“Relying upon Thurston’s judgment, and from your satisfactory
+wire, conclude that Thurston chose right man for post. Assume
+all responsibilities. Advise New York offices daily as to condition
+of work, also condition Thurston and Blaisdell. Spare no expense
+in their care. Shall join you within five days.”</p>
+
+<p>(Signed) “Newnham, President S.B. &amp; L. R.R.”</p>
+
+<p>Having read the telegram, Tom turned to pick up a sheet of paper.
+After jotting down the address of President Newnham, he added:</p>
+
+<p>“Shall hustle job through rapidly if there is any way of doing
+it. Shall engage extra engineers in this state. Hope to be able
+to show you, on arrival, things moving at speed.”</p>
+
+<p>(Signed) Reade, “Acting Chief Engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom shoved both despatches under his chum’s eyes. Naturally
+Hazelton read the one from New York first.</p>
+
+<p>“Whew! The president seems to trust you,” murmured Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“No; he doesn’t,” Tom retorted. “He doesn’t know anything about
+me. His wire shows that he knows and trusts Mr. Thurston, the
+man who picked me out for this job.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom wrote a second despatch, addressed to the State University.
+It ran as follows:</p>
+
+<p>“Have heard that your university has party from engineering school
+in field this summer. Can you place me in immediate wire communication
+with professor in charge of party? Have practical work to offer
+students.”</p>
+
+<p>This also Tom showed briefly to his chum. Then, picking up the
+two telegrams, Tom stepped outside, turning them over to the rider.
+“Ask your operator to rush both of these, the one to New York
+going first.”</p>
+
+<p>As the pony’s hoofs clicked against the gravel, Reade stepped
+inside the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you going to do with the State University students?”
+asked Harry curiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Put ’em at work on the smaller jobs here,” Tom answered. “At
+least, as many of them as the professor will vouch for.”</p>
+
+<p>Three hours later Tom received an answer to his local despatch.
+It was from Professor Coles, sixty miles away, in camp with a
+party of thirty engineering students. The professor asked for
+further particulars. Tom wired back:</p>
+
+<p>“Can use your entire lot of students in practical railroad work,
+if they want experience and can do work. Will you bring them
+here with all speed and let us try them out? For yourself, we
+offer suitable pay for a man of your attainments. Students engaged
+will be paid all they are worth.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gracious, but you’re going in at wholesale! What will President
+Newnham say to you for engaging men at such a wholesale rate!”</p>
+
+<p>“By the time he reaches here,” replied Tom in a tone that meant
+business, “either he will see results that will force him to
+approve—-or else he’ll give me my walking papers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, what shall we do?” inquired Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing. It’s nearly time for the field force to be back in camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’d better work every minute of the time,” urged Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re going to take things more easily after this,” Tom yawned.</p>
+
+<p>“Is that what you mean by hustling?”</p>
+
+<p>“In a way, yes,” Tom nodded. “See here, Harry, in the field we
+tried to do the work of a man and a half each, didn’t we? And
+here at the drawing tables, too.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now there is need of hustling, and, if we work too hard, we simply
+won’t have time to plan for others, or even to know what they’re
+doing. There are a lot of students coming, Harry. Most of them
+will be good men, for they’re young, full of enthusiasm, and just
+crazy to show what they can do. Some of them will doubtless be
+good draughtsmen. You’ll take these men and see to it that the
+drawing is pushed forward. But you won’t work too hard yourself.
+You’ll see to it that the force under you is working, and in
+that way you’ll be three times as useful as if you merely ground
+and dug hard by yourself. I shall go light on real work, just
+in order that I may have my eyes and brains where they will do
+the most good every minute of the time.”</p>
+
+<p>Someone was approaching. Tom threw open the flap of the tent,
+thus discovering that the man was Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Howdy, Reade,” was the greeting of the idle engineer. “I’m glad
+to say that my headache is better. I’m not going to have the
+fever, after all. Tomorrow I’ll be out on the leveling job.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“I want you to rest up tomorrow, Black.”</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t do it,” retorted the other flatly. “Tomorrow I go out
+and continue running my levels.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I may as well tell you,” Tom continued, “what I would have
+preferred to break to you more easily later on.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?” questioned the other sharply, an uneasy look
+creeping into his face.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not going to do any more work for us, Black,” replied the
+young chief coolly.</p>
+
+<p>“Not do any more work, What do you mean, Reade? Am I discharged
+from this corps?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not yet, Black, for I haven’t the money at hand to pay you to
+date. So you may stay here until the paymaster comes. Then, when
+you have your full amount of pay, you can leave us.”</p>
+
+<p>“What does this mean?” demanded ’Gene Black angrily, as he stepped
+closer, his eyes blazing.</p>
+
+<p>Some young men would have shrunk back before Black’s menacing
+manner. Tom had never yet met the man who could make him really
+afraid.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve already told you the whole story, Black.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why am I discharged?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am not obliged to give you my reasons.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find you’ll have to do so!” stormed ’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then,” Tom answered, “you get through here because you kicked
+one of the tripod legs of your leveling instrument the other day, and
+left a mark on the wood.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you try to be funny with me, you young hound!” hissed Black,
+stepping so close that Tom gently pushed him back. “You young
+idiot! Do you think you can fire me—-and get away with it?”</p>
+
+<p>“We won’t talk about it any more,” Tom answered. “Your time will
+be all your own until the paymaster arrives. After you’ve received
+your money you will leave camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are any of the others going?”</p>
+
+<p>“No.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re discharging me for personal reasons!” snarled ’Gene
+Black. “However, you can’t do it! I’ll wire the president of
+the road, at New York.”</p>
+
+<p>“He won’t receive your wire,” Tom assured the irate one. “President
+Newnham is on his way here. Probably he’ll arrive here before
+the paymaster does. You may take your case to President Newnham
+in person if you wish.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s what I’ll do, then!” breathed ’Gene Black fiercely.
+“And I’ll take your place in charge here, cub! If I don’t, _you_
+shall never finish the S.B. &amp; L!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br><span class="small">BAD PETE MIXES IN SOME</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Forty-Eight hours later Professor Coles arrived in camp with thirty
+healthy, joyous young students of engineering.</p>
+
+<p>It didn’t take Tom half an hour to discover that he had some excellent
+material here. As for the professor himself, that gentleman was
+a civil engineer of the widest experience.</p>
+
+<p>“I shall need you to advise me, professor,” Tom explained. “While
+I had the nerve to take command here, I’m only a boy, after all,
+and you’ll be surprised when you find out how much there is that
+I don’t know.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s very evident, Mr. Reade,” smiled the professor, “that you
+know the art of management, and that’s the important part in any
+line of great work.”</p>
+
+<p>The student party had brought their own tents and field equipment
+with them. Their arrival had been a total surprise in camp, as
+none of the other engineers, save Harry, had known what was in
+the wind.</p>
+
+<p>“If these boys don’t make mistakes by wholesale,” declared Jack
+Butter, “we’ll just boost the work along after this. I wonder
+why Mr. Thurston never hit upon the idea of adding such a force?”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s very likely he has been thinking of it all along,” Tom rejoined.
+“The main point, however, is that we seem to have a bully field
+force.”</p>
+
+<p>Four of the students had been selected to serve as map-making
+force under Harry Hazelton. The rest were going out into the
+field, some of them as engineers in embryo, the rest as chainmen
+and rodmen.</p>
+
+<p>Though the field outfit now presented a lively appearance, all
+was kept as quiet as possible in and near the camp, for neither
+Mr. Thurston nor Mr. Blaisdell knew what was going on about them.
+Both were still delirious, and very ill.</p>
+
+<p>“Now I see why you could afford to ‘fire’ me and let the work
+slack up for a while,” sneered Black, meeting Reade after dark.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“These boys will spoil the whole business. You don’t seem to
+have any idea of the numbers of fool mistakes that boys can make.”</p>
+
+<p>“They’re good fellows, anyway, and honest,” Tom rejoined.</p>
+
+<p>“Give some of ’em leveling work out on Section Nineteen,” suggested
+’Gene, apparently seized with a sudden thought. “Then compare
+their field notes with mine, and see how far out they are.”</p>
+
+<p>“I happen to know all about your leveling notes on Nineteen,”
+Reade retorted rather significantly.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?” flared Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Just before Mr. Thurston was taken ill, as it happened, Hazelton
+and I took a leveling instrument out on Nineteen one day and ran
+your sights over after you.”</p>
+
+<p>“So that’s why you ‘fired’——-” began Black, his thoughts moving
+swiftly. Then, realizing that he was about to say too much, he
+went on: “What did you find wrong with my sights on Nineteen?”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t say that anything was wrong with your work,” Reade rejoined.
+“What I was about to say was that, if I put any of the students
+at leveling on Nineteen, by way of test, I shall have my own notes
+with which to compare theirs.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” muttered the fellow. Then shaking with anger, he walked
+away from the young chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Black knows that much against himself,” smiled Reade inwardly.
+“He doesn’t yet know, however, that I heard him talking with
+Bad Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>Though he was pretending to take things easily, Tom’s head was
+all but whirling with the many problems that presented themselves
+to him. To get away from it all for a while Tom strolled a short
+distance out of camp, seating himself on the ground under a big
+tree not far from the trail.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later the young chief heard halting footsteps that
+struck his ear as being rather stealthy. Someone, from camp,
+was heading that way. Stealth in the other’s movements made Reade
+draw himself back into the shadow.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black halted not far from the tree. Turning back toward
+the camp, the fellow shook his fist violently in that direction.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s certainly thinking of me,” grimaced Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“You young cub, you may laugh for a day or two more!” muttered
+Black, with another shake of his fist.</p>
+
+<p>“If that’s meant for me, I’m much obliged, I’m sure,” thought
+Reade. “Laughing is always a great pleasure for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s your turn now,” continued Black, in the same low, passionate
+tone, “but I’ll soon have you blocked—-or else under the sod!”</p>
+
+<p>“Oho!” reflected the young acting chief engineer, not without
+a slight shudder. “Is assassination in the plans of the people
+behind ’Gene Black’s treachery? Or is putting me under the sod
+merely an addition that Black has made for his own pleasure?”</p>
+
+<p>The plotter, still unaware of the eavesdropper, had now turned
+and was walking down the trail. He was now so far from camp that
+he did not need to be soft-footed.</p>
+
+<p>Out of the shadow, after a brief pause, stole Tom Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“If Black is going to meet anyone tonight I’d better be near to
+the place of meeting. I might hear something that would teach
+me just what to do to checkmate the plotters against us.”</p>
+
+<p>For fully half a mile the chase continued. Two or three times Reade
+stepped against some slight obstacle in the darkness, making a
+sound which, he feared, would travel to the ears of Black. But
+the latter kept on his way.</p>
+
+<p>Finally ’Gene Black halted where three trees grew in the form
+of a triangle and threw a dense shadow. In the same instant the
+young chief engineer dropped out of sight behind a boulder close
+to the path.</p>
+
+<p>Black’s low, thrilling whistle sounded. A night bird’s call answered.
+Soon afterwards, another form appeared, and Tom, peering anxiously,
+was sure that he recognized the man whom he expected to see—-Bad
+Pete.</p>
+
+<p>What Tom heard came disjointedly—-a few words here and there,
+but enough to set him thinking “at the rate of a mile a minute,”
+as he told himself.</p>
+
+<p>Up the trail came the pair, after some minutes. Tom crouched
+flat behind his boulder.</p>
+
+<p>“Great! I hope they’ll halt within a few feet and go on talking
+about the things that I want to hear—-_must_ hear!” quivered Reade.</p>
+
+<p>It was provoking! Black and Bad Pete passed so close, yet the
+only sound from either of them, while within earshot, was a chuckle
+from Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s right! Laugh,” gritted disappointed Tom. “Laughing is in
+your line! You’re planning, somehow, to put the big laugh over the
+whole line of the S.B. &amp; L. railroad. If I could only hear a little
+more I might be able to turn the laugh on you!”</p>
+
+<p>The pair went on out of sight. Tom waited where he was for more
+than half an hour.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, the coast is surely clear,” thought Reade at last. He rose
+and started campward.</p>
+
+<p>“The soft-foot, the rubber shoe won’t work now,” Tom decided.
+“If I were to go along as if trying not to run into anyone, and
+that pair got first sight of me, it would make them suspicious.
+I haven’t been eavesdropping—-oh, no! I’m merely out taking
+a night stroll to ease my nerves.”</p>
+
+<p>Therefore the cub chief puckered his lips, emitting a cheery whistling
+as he trudged along up the trail.</p>
+
+<p>As it happened the pair whom Tom sought had not yet parted. From
+behind a boulder a man stepped out in his path. From the other
+side of the boulder another man moved in behind him.</p>
+
+<p>“Out for the air, Reade?” asked the sneering voice of ’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello, Black—-is that you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Black,” broke in the voice of Bad Pete, “you wanted this
+cub, and he’s all yours! What are you going to do with him?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br><span class="small">BLACK’S PLOT OPENS WITH A BANG</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Some mistake here, gentlemen,” interjected Tom Reade coolly.
+“Unless I’m very badly informed I don’t belong to either of you.
+If anyone owns me, then I belong to the S.B. &amp; L.”</p>
+
+<p>“I told you I’d make you settle with me for throwing me out of
+the camp,” remarked Black disagreeably.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not out yet—-more’s the pity,” Tom retorted. “You will
+be, however, as soon as the paymaster arrives.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re wrong,” jeered ’Gene. “You’re out—-from this minute!”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?” Tom inquired, looking Black steadily in the eye.</p>
+
+<p>Yet the young chief engineer had a creepy realization of just
+what the pair _did_ mean. Black must have confederates somewhere
+in the mountains near. It was evidently the rascal’s intention
+to seize Tom and carry him away where he would be held a prisoner
+until he had lost all hope of regaining his position at the head
+of the railroad’s field force.</p>
+
+<p>“You say that I’ll be thrown out of camp very soon,” sneered Black.
+“The fact is, you are not going back to camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s going to stop me?” Reade inquired, with no sign of fear.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not going back to camp!” Black insisted.</p>
+
+<p>“Someone has been giving you the wrong tip,” smiled Tom.</p>
+
+<p>He started forward, brushing past Black. It was mainly a pretense,
+for Reade had no notion but that he would be stopped.</p>
+
+<p>With a savage cry Black seized him by the shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Tom made a quick turn, shaking the fellow off. While he was thus
+occupied Bad Pete slipped about, and now confronted Reade. The
+muzzle of a revolver was pressed against the young engineer’s belt.</p>
+
+<p>“Hoist your hands!” ordered Pete warningly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom obeyed, though he hoisted his hands only as far as his mouth.
+Forming a megaphone, he gave vent to a loud yell of:</p>
+
+<p>“Roo-rup! roo-rup! roo-rup!”</p>
+
+<p>It was one of the old High School yells of the good old Gridley
+days—-one of the yells sometimes used as a signal of distress
+by famous old Dick &amp; Co., of which Tom Reade had been a shining
+member.</p>
+
+<p>On the still air of the mountain night that yell traveled far
+and clearly. It was a call of penetrating power, traveling farther
+than its sound would suggest.</p>
+
+<p>“You do that again, you young coyote, and I’ll begin to pump!”
+growled Bad Pete savagely.</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t need to do it again,” Tom returned. “Wait a few minutes,
+and you’ll see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Shall I drop him, Black?” inquired Pete.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black was about to answer in the affirmative, when a sound
+up the trail caught his attention.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s someone coming,” snarled Black, using his keen powers
+of hearing.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait and I’ll introduce you,” mocked Tom Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“We won’t wait. Neither will you,” retorted Black. “You’ll come
+with us. About face and walk fast!”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not going your way tonight,” replied Reade calmly.</p>
+
+<p>“If he doesn’t obey every order like a flash, Pete, then you pull
+the trigger and wind this cub up.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” nodded Pete. “Cub, you heard what Black said?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied Tom, looking at Pete with smiling eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Then come along,” ordered Black, seizing Tom by one arm.</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t!” Tom declared flatly.</p>
+
+<p>“You know what refusal means. Pete is steady on the trigger.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is he?” asked Reade coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Watching like a cat through his sleepy-looking eyes, Reade suddenly
+shot his right hand across his abdomen in such fashion as to knock
+away the muzzle of the revolver. Bad Pete felt himself seized
+in a football tackle that had been the terror of more than one
+opposing High School football player.</p>
+
+<p>Crash! Pete struck the ground, Reade on top of him.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black darted to the aid of his companion, but shrank back
+as he caught the glint of the revolver that Tom had twisted out
+of the hand of the bad man.</p>
+
+<p>“Duck, Black!” warned Tom, in a quiet tone that nevertheless had
+a deadly note in it.</p>
+
+<p>“Where are you?” called the voice of Harry Hazelton, not two hundred
+yards up the trail now.</p>
+
+<p>“Here!” called Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Wow-ow-ow! Whoop!” yelled a chorus of college boys.</p>
+
+<p>It all took place in a very few seconds. Black, hesitating whether
+or not to close with Reade, decided on flight. He turned and
+fled.</p>
+
+<p>Whizz-zz-zz! The sound was made by the captured revolver as Tom,
+leaping to his feet, threw it as far from him as he could. It
+sailed through space, next disappearing over the edge of a steep
+precipice.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s your hurry, Peter?” drawled Reade, as, jerking Bad Pete
+to his feet, he planted a kick that sent the bad man down the
+trail a dozen feet.</p>
+
+<p>Tom started after Pete, intent on another kick. Bad Pete sped
+down the trail blindly. Like most of his gun-play kind, he had
+little courage when deprived of his implement of murder.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s up, Tom?” demanded Harry Hazelton, leaping to the spot.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the row, chief?” asked one of the university boys eagerly.
+“Anyone you want us to catch? Whoop! Lead the way to the running
+track while we show you our best time!”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s nothing to be done, I think,” laughed Tom. “Do you all
+know Black by sight?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” came the answer from a score of throats.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” Tom continued, “if any of you ever catch sight of him
+in the camp again you are hereby authorized to run him out by
+the use of any kind of tactics that won’t result fatally.”</p>
+
+<p>On the way up the trail Tom told the rescue party something about
+the late affair.</p>
+
+<p>However, Reade referred to it only as a personal quarrel, refraining
+from making any mention of the treachery of Black and of the plots
+of which that treacherous engineer was a part.</p>
+
+<p>“If you’ve many friends like that one, chief, you had better strap
+a gun on to your belt.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t like revolver carrying,” Tom replied bluntly. “It always
+makes a coward of a fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>Two mornings later the telegraph wire, one end of which now rested
+in a tent in camp, brought word that President Newnham was at the
+construction camp, and would be along in the course of the day.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, Harry and the draughtsmen were the only engineers in camp
+at the hour when the message arrived.</p>
+
+<p>“Big doings coming our way!” announced Tom, after he had broken
+the news to the others.</p>
+
+<p>“Is Mr. Newnham likely to make much of a shake-up?” asked Watson,
+one of the college-boy draughtsmen.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve never met him,” Tom answered, “and I don’t know. We’re
+going along at grand old speed, and Mr. Newnham had better let
+things run just as they’re going now, if he wants to see the S.B.
+&amp; L. open for traffic within charter time.”</p>
+
+<p>“He may give all of us university boys the swift run,” laughed
+another of the draughtsmen.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe it,” Tom replied. “The added help that you fellows
+have given us has enabled us to double our rush forward. I’ve a
+notion that President Newnham is a man of great common sense.”</p>
+
+<p>“How are the sick men this morning,” inquired Harry. “Is either
+one of them fit to talk with the president?”</p>
+
+<p>“Doc Gitney says he won’t allow any caller within a thousand feet
+of his patients,” Tom smiled. “And Doc seems to be a man of his
+word.”</p>
+
+<p>Both Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell were now weakly conscious,
+in a half-dazed sort of way. Their cases were progressing favorably
+on the whole, though it would be weeks ere either would be fit
+to take charge of affairs.</p>
+
+<p>The camp had been moved forward, so as to leave the sick men about
+a fifth of a mile away from the scenes of camp activity. This
+insured quiet for them until they were able to endure noise once more.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll be amazingly busy until the president gets here, I take
+it,” remarked Bushrod, another college boy, without glancing up
+from his drawing table.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” drawled Tom, with a smile. “When you get time to breathe
+look out of the door and see what I’m doing.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom walked over to his favorite seat, a reclining camp chair that
+he had placed under a broad shade tree. Seating himself, the
+cub chief opened a novel that he had borrowed from one of the
+college boys.</p>
+
+<p>“It looks lazy,” yawned Tom, “but what can I do? I’ve hustled
+the corps, but I’m up with them to the last minute of work they’ve
+done. There is nothing more I can do until they bring me more
+work. I might ride out and see how the fellows are coming along
+in the field, but I was out there yesterday, and I know all they’re
+doing, and everyone of their problems. Besides, if I rode afield,
+I’d miss Mr. Newnham.”</p>
+
+<p>So he opened the book and read for an hour. Then he glanced up
+as a stranger on horseback rode into camp.</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me where I can find Mr. Reade,” said the new arrival.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re looking at hire,” Tom replied.</p>
+
+<p>“No, son; I want your father,” explained the horseman.</p>
+
+<p>“If you go on horseback it will take you months to reach him,”
+Tom explained. “My father lives ’way back east.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I want the chief engineer of this outfit,” insisted the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re at the end of your journey.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t tell me, young man, that you’re the chief engineer,” protested
+the horseman.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” Tom admitted modestly. “I’m only the acting chief. Hold
+on. If you think I’m not responsible for that statement you might
+ask any of the fellows over in the headquarters tent.”</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Harry Hazelton thrust his head out through the
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“Young man,” hailed the stranger, “I want to find the chief.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reach out your hand, and you can touch him on the shoulder,”
+answered Hazelton, and turned back.</p>
+
+<p>“I know I don’t look entirely trustworthy,” grinned Tom, “but
+I’ve been telling you the truth.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, perhaps,” continued the stranger, looking keenly at the
+cub engineer, “you’ll know why I’m here. I’m Dave Fulsbee.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re mighty welcome, then,” cried Tom, reaching out his hand.
+“I’ve been wondering where you were.”</p>
+
+<p>“I came as soon as I could get the wagon-load of equipment together,”
+grinned Fulsbee.</p>
+
+<p>“Where is the wagon?”</p>
+
+<p>“Coming along up the trail. It will be here in about twenty minutes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll be glad to see your equipment, and to set you at work as
+soon as we’re ready,” Reade went on. “Harry, show Mr. Fulsbee
+the tent we’ve set aside for himself and his helper.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is that party?” questioned Watson, as Hazelton started off
+with the newcomer in tow.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, just a new expert that we’re taking on,” Tom drawled.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later all other thoughts were driven from Reade’s
+mind. A mountain wagon was sighted coming up the trail, drawn
+by a pair of grays. The stout gentleman, on the rear seat, dressed
+in the latest fashion, even to his highly polished shoes, must
+surely be all the way from Broadway.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham?” queried Tom, advancing to the wagon as it halted.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; is Mr. Reade here?”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re speaking to him, sir,” smiled the cub engineer.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham took a quick look, readjusted his spectacles, and
+looked once more. Tom bore the scrutiny calmly.</p>
+
+<p>“I expected to find a very young man here, Mr. Reade, but you’re
+considerably younger than I had expected. Yet Howe, in charge
+of the construction corps, tells me that you’ve been hustling
+matters at this field survey end. How are you, Reade?”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham descended from the wagon, at once holding out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m very comfortable, thank you, sir,” Tom smiled.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re dreadfully busy, I’m sure,” continued the president of
+the S.B. &amp; L. “In fact, Reade, I feel almost guilty in coming
+here and taking up your time when you’ve such a drive on. Don’t
+let me detain you. I can go right on into the field and talk
+with you there.”</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t be necessary, sir,” Tom answered, with another smile.
+“I’m not doing anything in particular.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing in particular? Why, I thought——-”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t do any tearing around myself,” laughed Reade. “Since
+you were kind enough to make me acting chief engineer here I’ve
+kept the other fellows driving pretty hard, and I have every bit
+of work done right up to the minute. Yet, as for myself, I have
+little to do, most of the day, except to sit in a camp easy chair,
+or else I ride a bit over the ground and see just where the fellows
+are working.”</p>
+
+<p>“You take it mighty easily,” murmured President Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“A chief may, if he has the sense to know how to work his
+subordinates,” Tom continued. “I don’t believe, sir, that you’ll
+find any fault with the way matters have gone forward.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see the latest reports,” urged Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, sir, if you’ll come into the head-quarters tent.”</p>
+
+<p>Leading the way into the tent where Harry Hazelton and his draughting
+force were at work, Tom announced:</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen, Mr. Newnham, president of the S.B. &amp; L., wishes to
+look over the reports and the maps with me. You may lay off until
+called back to work.”</p>
+
+<p>As the others filed out of the tent, Tom made Harry a sign to
+remain. Then the three went over the details of what the field
+survey party was doing.</p>
+
+<p>“From all I can see,” remarked President Newnham, “you have done
+wonderfully well, Reade. I can certainly find no fault with Tim
+Thurston for recommending that you be placed in charge. Thurston
+will certainly be jealous when he gets on his feet again. You
+have driven the work ahead in faster time than Thurston himself
+was able to do.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s very likely, sir,” replied Tom Reade, “that I have had an
+easier part of the country to work through than Mr. Thurston had.
+Then, again, the taking on of the engineer student party from
+the State University has enabled us to get ahead with much greater
+speed.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder why Thurston never thought to take on the students,”
+murmured Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! sounded an explosion, a mile or two to the westward.</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t know that you were doing any blasting, Reade,” observed
+the president of the S.B. &amp; L.</p>
+
+<p>“Neither did I, sir,” Tom replied, rising and listening.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! bang! bang! sounded a series of sharp reports.</p>
+
+<p>Tom ran out into the open Mr. Newnham following at a slower gait.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! bang! bang!</p>
+
+<p>“Hi, there, Riley!” roared Tom promptly. “Saddle two horses as
+quickly as you can. Harry, make ready to follow with me as soon
+as the horses are ready.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is anything wrong?” inquired the president. He was answered by more
+explosions in the distance.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m afraid so,” Tom muttered, showing his first trace of uneasiness.
+“However, I don’t want to say, Mr. Newnham, until I’ve investigated.”</p>
+
+<p>Before the horses were ready Tom descried, half a mile away, on
+a clear bit of trail, a horseman riding in at a furious gallop.</p>
+
+<p>“There comes a messenger, Mr. Newnham,” Tom went on. “We’ll soon
+know just what the trouble is.”</p>
+
+<p>“Trouble?” echoed Mr. Newnham, in astonishment. “Then you believe
+that is the word, do you?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m afraid, Mr. Newnham, that you’ve reached here just in time to
+see some very real trouble,” was Reade’s quick answer. “But wait
+just two minutes, sir, and we’ll have exact information. Guessing
+won’t do any good.”</p>
+
+<p>Once or twice, through the trees, they caught sight of the on-rushing
+rider. Then Jack Rutter, a big splotch of red on the left sleeve
+of his shirt, rode hard into camp.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he shouted, “we’re ambushed! Hidden scoundrels have
+been firing on us.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve ordered all the men in?” called Tom, as Rutter reined
+up beside him.</p>
+
+<p>“Every man of them,” returned Jack. “Poor Reynolds, of the student
+party, is rather seriously hit, I’m afraid. Some of the fellows
+are bringing him in.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re hit yourself,” Tom remarked.</p>
+
+<p>“What? That little scratch?” demanded Rutter scornfully. “Don’t
+count me as a wounded man, Reade. There are some firearms in
+this camp. I want to get the men armed, as far as the weapons
+will go, and then I want to go back and smoke out the miserable
+rascals!”</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t be wise, Jack,” Tom continued coolly. “You’ll find
+that there are too many of the enemy. Besides, you won’t have
+to fatigue yourselves by going back over the trail. The scoundrels
+will be here, before long. They doubtless intend to wipe out
+the camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Assassins coming to wipe out the camp?” almost exploded President
+Newnham. “Reade, this is most extraordinary!”</p>
+
+<p>“It is—-very,” Tom assented dryly.</p>
+
+<p>“But who can the villains be?”</p>
+
+<p>“A picked-up gang of gun-fighters, sent here to blow this camp
+off the face of the earth, since that is the only way that the
+backers of the rival road can find to set us back,” Tom rejoined.
+“If they drive us away from here, they’ll attack the construction
+force next!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br><span class="small">SHUT OFF FROM THE WORLD</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Five horsemen belonging to the field party rode in furiously, Matt
+Rice at their head.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a shame,” yelled Rice, as he threw himself from his horse.
+“I’d have stayed behind—-so would the others—-if we had had rifles
+with us. The scoundrels kept up a fire at a quarter of a mile range.
+Then we passed the men who are carrying Reynolds—-they’re almost
+here now—-but it wouldn’t have done any good for us to stand by them.
+We’d have made the other party only a bigger mark. Where are the
+revolvers, Reader? We’ve got to make a stand here. We can’t run away
+and leave our camp to fall into their hands.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re not going to run away,” said Reade grimly. “But I’ll tell
+you what a half dozen of you can do. Hustle for shovels and dig
+a deep hole here. This gentleman is Mr. Newnham, president of the
+company that employs us. If the camp is attacked we can’t afford to
+have the president of the road killed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham would do far better to ride down the trail as fast as
+he can go, and try to join the construction camp,” offered Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>The president of the S.B. &amp; L. had been silent during the last few
+exciting moments. But now he opened his mouth long enough to reply
+very quickly:</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham hasn’t any thoughts of flight. I am not a fighting
+man, and never saw a shot fired in anger in my life, but I’m going
+to stand my ground in my own camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dig the hole, anyway,” ordered Tom. “We’ll want a safe place to put
+young Reynolds. We can’t afford to leave him exposed to fire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where are the revolvers?” Rice insisted, as others started to get
+shovels and dig in a hurry.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, never mind the revolvers,” replied Tom. “We won’t use ’em,
+anyway. We can’t, for they wouldn’t carry far enough to put any of
+the enemy in danger.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade,” remarked Mr. Newnham, in a quiet undertone, “does it
+occur to you that you are making no preparations to defend the camp!
+That, in fact, you seem wholly indolent in the matter?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no; I’m not indolent, sir,” smiled Tom. “You’ll find me
+energetic enough, sir, I imagine, when the need for swift work comes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course you couldn’t foresee the coming of any such outrage
+as this,” Mr. Newnham continued.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I rather guessed that this sort of thing was coming,” Tom
+confessed.</p>
+
+<p>“You guessed it—-and yet the camp has been left undefended? You
+haven’t taken any steps to protect the company’s rights and property
+at this point?” gasped Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“You will find, sir, that I am not wholly unprepared,” Reade remarked
+dryly, while the corners of his mouth drew down grimly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was apparently the only one in camp, after the excitement
+started, who had noted that Dave Fulsbee, at the first shots, had
+leaped to his horse and vanished down the trail to the eastward.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a party of a dozen, headed by Professor Coles, came
+in on foot, bearing young Reynolds with them.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, mount one of the saddled horses and rush down yonder for
+Doc Gitney,” Tom ordered. “Give him your horse to come back on.
+He must see to young Reynolds promptly.”</p>
+
+<p>Some of the field party came in on horseback, followed soon by still
+others on foot. Many of the field engineering party, in their haste,
+had left their instruments, rods and chains behind.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, after diving into and out of the headquarters tent, held up a
+pair of powerful binocular field glasses. With these he took
+sweeping views of the near-by hills to the westward.</p>
+
+<p>“The scoundrels haven’t gotten in at close quarters yet, sir,” Reade
+reported to President Newnham. “At least, I can’t make out a sign
+of them on the high ground that commands this camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“This whole business of an armed attack on us is most incomprehensible
+to me,” remarked Mr. Newnham. “I know, of course, that the W.C.
+&amp; A. haven’t left a stone unturned to defeat our efforts in getting
+our road running within the limits set in the charter. However,
+the W.C. &amp; A. people are crazy to send armed assassins against
+us in the field in this fashion. No matter, now, whether we finish
+the road on time, this rascally work by the opposition will defeat
+their hopes of getting the charter away from us.”</p>
+
+<p>“It might prevent them from doing so, sir,” Tom rejoined quietly,
+“if you were able to prove that the scoundrels who fired on our
+engineering parties this morning were really employed by the W.C.
+&amp; A. railroad crowd.”</p>
+
+<p>“Prove it?” snorted the man from Broadway. “Who else would have
+any interest in blocking us?”</p>
+
+<p>“Would that statement go in court, or before a legislature?” Tom
+pressed.</p>
+
+<p>“No, it wouldn’t,” President Newnham admitted thoughtfully. “I see
+the point, Reade. After the scoundrels have done their worst against
+us, they can disperse, vanishing among the hills, and the W.C. &amp; A.
+people will simply deny that they were behind the attack, and will
+call upon us to prove it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not only that, sir,” continued the cub chief engineer, “but I doubt
+if any of the officials of the W.C. &amp; A. have any real knowledge that
+such a move is contemplated. This trick proceeds from the fertile
+mind of some clever, well-paid scoundrel who is employed in the
+opposition railroad’s gloom department. It is a cleverly thought-out
+scheme to make us lose three or four days of work, which will be
+enough to prevent us from finishing the road on time. So, the
+enemy think that we must lose the charter, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“That trick will never work,” declared Mr. Newnham angrily. “Reade,
+there are courts, and laws. If the State of Colorado doesn’t protect
+us in our work, then we can’t be held to am count for not finishing
+within a given time.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s as the legislature may decide, I imagine, sir,” hazarded
+the young engineer. “There are powerful political forces working
+to turn this road’s charter over to the W.C. &amp; A. crowd. Your
+company’s property, Mr. Newnham, is entitled to protection from the
+state, of course. The state, however, will be able to reply that
+the authorities were not notified, and could not send protection
+to us.”</p>
+
+<p>“But we have a telegraph running from here out into the world!”
+cried the man from Broadway way, wheeling like a flash. “Reade,
+we’re both idiots not to have remembered, at the first shots,
+to send an urgent message to Denver. Where’s your operating tent?”</p>
+
+<p>“Over there. I’ll take you there, sir,” offered Tom, after pointing.
+“Still it won’t do any good, Mr. Newnham, to think of telegraphing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not do us any good?” echoed the other, aghast. “What nonsense
+are you talking, Reade? If we are hindered the feet of our having
+wired to the governor of the state will be our first proof of having
+appealed to the state for protection. Can’t you see that, Reade?”</p>
+
+<p>The pair now turned in at the operator’s tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Operator,” said Reade, to the young man seated before the keys on
+a table, “this gentleman man is President Newnham, of the S.B. &amp; L.
+Send any messages that he dictates.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get Denver on the wire,” commanded Mr. Newnham. “Hustle!”</p>
+
+<p>Click-click-click! rattled the sounder.</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t do a particle of good,” Tom uttered calmly. “’Gene Black,
+the engineer discharged from this camp, is serving the enemy.
+Black has brains enough to see that our wire was cut before he
+started a thing moving.”</p>
+
+<p>Click-click-click! spoke the sounder again.</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t get a thing,” explained the operator. “I can’t even get a
+response from the construction camp. Mr. Reade must be right—-our
+wire has been cut and we’re shut off from the outside world.”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br><span class="small">THE REAL ATTACK BEGINS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Hearing the moving wheels of a wagon on the trail, Tom looked outside,
+then seized Mr. Newnham’s arm rather roughly.</p>
+
+<p>“Come along, sir, and come quickly, if you want to see something
+that will beat a carload of telegrams,” urged the cub engineer.</p>
+
+<p>Having gotten the president of the road outside, Tom let go of
+his arm and raced on before that astonished man from Broadway.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, you fellows,” called Tom, almost gayly, as he ran to where
+engineers and chainmen men were standing in little groups, talking
+gloomily over the forenoon’s work. “Get in line, here—-a whole
+crowd of you!”</p>
+
+<p>Dave Fulsbee was now riding briskly toward the centre of the camp,
+ahead of the wagon for which he had gone down the trail. Laughing
+quietly, Tom hustled group after group of young men into one long
+line.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold up your right hands!” called out the young cub engineer.</p>
+
+<p>Wondering, his subordinates obeyed. Fulsbee reined up, dismounting
+before the line.</p>
+
+<p>“They’re all ready for you, friend,” called Tom gayly.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen, boys!” commanded Dave Fulsbee, as he faced the line on
+foot. “You do each and all of you, singly and severally, hereby
+swear that you will serve truly and well as special deputy sheriffs,
+and obey all lawful orders, so help you God?”</p>
+
+<p>Almost in complete silence the hands fell as their owners nodded.
+Both the engineers and rodmen felt a trifle dazed. Why was this
+solitary deputy sheriff before them, and with what did he expect
+them to fight! Were they to stand and throw rocks at an enemy armed
+with rifles?</p>
+
+<p>But just then the wagon was driven in front of them.</p>
+
+<p>“Hustle the cases out, boys! Get ’em open!” commanded Dave, though
+he spoke without excitement. “Forty rifles and ten thousand cartridges,
+all borrowed from the National Guard of the State. Get busy!
+If the coyotes down to the westward try to get busy around here
+we will talk back to them!”</p>
+
+<p>“Whoop!” yelled the college boys. They pushed and crowded about
+the wooden cases that were now unloaded.</p>
+
+<p>“See here,” boomed in the deep voice of Professor Coles, “I wasn’t
+sworn in, and I now insist that I, too, be sworn.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham, tell the professor that fighting is a boy’s business,
+and that there isn’t any call for him to risk himself,” appealed
+Tom. “There are plenty of youngsters here to do the fighting
+and to take the chances.”</p>
+
+<p>“Surely, there appear to be enough men,” chuckled President Newnham,
+who, since he realized that rifles and ammunition were at hand,
+appeared to be wonderfully relieved. “Professor, don’t think of
+running yourself into any danger. Look on, with me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rifles are all given out, now, anyway,” called Dave Fulsbee coolly.
+“Now, youngsters, I’m going to show you where to station yourselves.
+Mr. Reade, have you seen anything through the glasses that looks
+interesting?”</p>
+
+<p>“By Jove,” Tom admitted, flushing guiltily, “I quite forgot to keep
+the lenses turned on the hills to the west.”</p>
+
+<p>He now made good for his omission, while Fulsbee led his young men
+away, stationing them in hiding places along the westward edge of
+the camp. Each man with a rifle was ordered not to rise from the
+ground, or to show himself in any way, and not to fire unless orders
+were given. Then Dave hurried back to the wagon. Something else
+was lifted out, all canvas covered, and rushed forward to a point
+just behind a dense clump of bushes.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, I want to apologize to you,” cried the man from Broadway,
+moving quickly over to where Tom stood surveying the hills beyond
+through his glass. “I thought, for a few minutes, that you had
+suspected some such rascally work afoot, and that you had failed
+to take proper precautions.”</p>
+
+<p>“If I had failed, sir,” murmured Tom, without removing the glass
+from before his eyes, “you would have arrived just in time, sir,
+to turn out of the camp a man who wasn’t fit to be in charge.
+Yet it was only accident, sir, that led me to suspect what might
+be in the air.”</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon Tom hastily recounted to the president of the company
+the story of how he had accidentally overheard fragments of talk
+between ’Gene Black and Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“That gave me a hint of how the wind was blowing,” Tom continued,
+“though I couldn’t make out enough of their talk, on either occasion,
+to learn just what was happening. I telegraphed to the nearest
+town that had a sheriff in it, and that put me in touch with Fulsbee.
+Then Dave, over the wire, offered to bring arms here and to help
+us to defend our camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade,” exclaimed President Newnham hoarsely, “you are a
+wonderful young man! While seeming to be idle yourself, you have
+rushed the work through in splendid shape. Even when our enemies
+plot in the dark, and plan incredible outrages against us, you fully
+inform yourself of their plans. When the cowards strike you are
+ready to meet them, force for force. You may be only a cub
+engineer, but you have an amazing genius for the work in which
+chance has placed you out here.”</p>
+
+<p>“You may be guilty, Mr. Newnham, of giving me far more credit than
+I deserve,” laughed Tom gently. “In the matter of finding out the
+enemy’s designs, I didn’t, and I don’t know fully yet what the other
+side intends to do to us. What I did learn was by accident.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very few other young men would have been equal to making the
+greatest and best use of what accident revealed,” insisted Mr.
+Newnham warmly.</p>
+
+<p>Harry Hazelton came now, from the hole in the ground, to report
+that Dr. Gitney had done all he could for the comfort of poor
+young Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>“Gitney says that Reynolds ought to come along all right, as far
+as the mere wound itself is concerned,” Hazelton added. “What
+will have to be looked out for is suppuration. If pus forms in
+and around the wound it may carry Reynolds off, for there are
+no hospital conveniences to be had in this wild neck of the woods.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is the doctor staying with Reynolds?” Tom asked, still using the
+glasses on the hilly country that lay ahead.</p>
+
+<p>“No; he has gone back to Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell,” Hazelton
+answered. “Doc says he’ll have to be with them to quiet them in
+case the firing gets close. He says both men will become excited and
+try to jump out of bed and come over here. Doc says he’s going to
+strap ’em both down.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dr. Gitney may be badly needed here, if a fight opens,” Tom mused
+aloud.</p>
+
+<p>“He says, if we need him, to send for him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Come through a hot fire?” Tom gasped.</p>
+
+<p>“Surely! Doc Gitney is a Colorado man, born and bred. He doesn’t
+mind a lead shower when it comes in the line of duty,” laughed
+Harry. “Now, if you’re through using me as a messenger, I’m going
+to find a rifle.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t succeed,” Tom retorted. “Every rifle in camp already
+has an amateur soldier behind it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Just my luck!” growled Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a good, husky lad,” Tom continued. “If you want to be
+of real use, just lie down hug the earth, take good care not to
+be hit, and——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Fine and manly!” interjected Hazelton with contempt.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, don’t try to be a hero,” urged Tom teasingly. “There are
+altogether too many green, utterly inexperienced heroes here at
+present. Be useful, Harry, old chum, and let those who are good
+for nothing else be heroes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Following your own advice?” asked Hazelton. “Is that why you
+haven’t a rifle yourself?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why do I need a rifle?” demanded Reade. “I’m a non-combatant.”</p>
+
+<p>“You——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Box the chatter, Harry, and ship it east,” Tom interposed, showing
+signs of interest. Then, in a louder voice, Tom called:</p>
+
+<p>“Dave Fulsbee!”</p>
+
+<p>“Here,” answered the deputy sheriff from his hiding place in the
+brush.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you see that bald knob of rock ahead, to your left; about
+a quarter of a mile away?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do.”</p>
+
+<p>“I make out figures crawling to the cover of the line of brush
+just to the right of the bald knob,” Tom continued. “There are
+eight of them, I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“I see figures moving there,” Dave answered. Then, in a low voice,
+the deputy instructed the engineers on each side of him.</p>
+
+<p>“I see half a dozen more figures—-heads, rather—-showing just
+at the summit line of the rock itself,” went on Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; I make ’em,” answered Fulsbee, after a long, keen look.</p>
+
+<p>Again more instructions were given to the engineers.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, I’ve _got_ to have a rifle,” insisted Harry nervously.
+“You know, I always have been ’cracked, on target shooting. This
+is the best practical chance that I’ll ever have.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll have to wait your turn, Harry,” Tom urged soothingly.</p>
+
+<p>“My turn?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; wait until one of our fellows is badly hit. Then you can
+take up his rifle and move into his place on the line. When you’re
+hit, then I can have the rifle.”</p>
+
+<p>Hazelton made a face, though he said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Fulsbee’s assistant, the man who had driven the wagon into
+camp, stood silent, motionless, behind the canvas-covered object in
+the bushes just behind the engineer’s fighting line.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, if one of you galoots dares to fire before he gets the word,”
+sounded Dave Fulsbee’s warning voice in the ominous calm that
+followed, “I’ll snatch the offender out of the line and give him
+a good, sound spanking. The only man for me is the man who has
+the nerve to wait when he’s being shot at.”</p>
+
+<p>Crack! Far up on the bald knob a single shot sounded, and a bullet
+struck the ground about six feet from where Tom Reade stood with
+the binocular at his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Then there came a volley from the right of the rock, followed
+by one from the rock itself.</p>
+
+<p>“Easy, boys,” cautioned Fulsbee, as the bullets tore up the ground
+back of the firing line. “I’ll give you the word when the time
+comes.”</p>
+
+<p>Another volley sounded. Bullets tore up the ground near President
+Newnham, and one leaden pellet carried off that gentleman’s soft
+hat.</p>
+
+<p>“Please lie down, Mr. Newnham,” begged Tom, turning around. Now
+that the fight had opened the cub chief saw less use for the binocular.
+“We can’t have you hit, sir. You’re the head of the company,
+please remember.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t like this place, but I’m only one human life here,” the man
+from Broadway replied quietly, gravely. “If other men so readily
+risk their lives for the property of my associates and myself, then
+I’m going to expose myself at least as much as these young men ahead
+of us do.”</p>
+
+<p>“Just one shot apiece,” sounded Dave Fulsbee’s steady voice.
+“Fire where you’ve been told.”</p>
+
+<p>It was an irregular volley that ripped out from the defenders
+of the camp. Half of the marksmen fired to the right of the rook,
+the others at its crest.</p>
+
+<p>Right on top of this came another volley, fired from some new
+point of attack. It filled the air at this end of the camp with
+bullets.</p>
+
+<p>“Livin’ rattlers!”, cried Dave Fulsbee, leaping to his feet. “That’s
+the real attack. Reade, locate that main body and turn us loose on
+’em. If you don’t, the fellows in the real ambush will soon make a
+sieve of this camp. There must be a regiment of ’em!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br><span class="small">WHEN THE CAMP GREW WARM</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>President Newnham had prudently decided to lie down flat on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Nor was it any reflection on his courage that he did so. He was
+taking no part in the fight, and the leaden tornado that swept
+the camp from some unknown point was almost instantly repeated.</p>
+
+<p>At the same time the marksmen on and at the right of the bald
+knob continued to fire. The camp defenders were in a criss-cross
+of fire that might have shaken the nerves of an old and tried
+soldier.</p>
+
+<p>Tom watched the ground as bullets struck, trying to decide their
+original course from the directions in which the dust flew. Then
+he swung around to the right.</p>
+
+<p>With modern smokeless powder there was no light, bluish haze to
+mark the firing line of the new assailants. Tom Reade had to
+search and explore with his binocular glass until he could make
+out moving heads, waving arms.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve found ’em, Fulsbee!” young Reade cried suddenly, above the
+noise of rifles within a few yards of where they stood, as the
+engineers made the most of their chances to fire. “Turn the same
+way that I’m looking. See that blasted pine over there to your
+right, about six hundred there to the gully southeast of the tree.
+Got the line? Well, along there there’s a line of men hidden.
+Through the glass I can sometimes make out the flash of their rifles.
+Take the glass yourself, and see.”</p>
+
+<p>Dave Fulsbee snatched the binoculars, making a rapid survey.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he admitted, “you have surely located that crowd.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, go after them with your patent hay rake,” quivered Tom,
+feeling the full excitement of the thing in this tantalizing cross
+fire. Then the cub added, with a sheepish grin:</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you’ll scare ’em, instead of hitting ’em, Dave.”</p>
+
+<p>Fulsbee stepped over to his assistant. Between them they swung
+the machine gun around, the assistant wrenching off the canvas
+cover. Fulsbee rapidly sighted the piece for six hundred yards.
+The assistant stood by to feed belts of cartridges, while Dave took
+his post at the firing mechanism.</p>
+
+<p>Cr-r-r-r-rack! sounded the machine gun, spitting forth a pelting
+storm of lead. As the piece continued to disgorge bullets at
+the rate of six hundred a minute, Dave, a grim smile on his lips,
+swung the muzzle of the piece so as to spread the fire along the
+entire line of the main ambush.</p>
+
+<p>“Take the glass,” Tom roared in Harry’s ear, above the din. “See
+how Fulsbee is throwing up dust and bits of rock all along that
+rattled line.”</p>
+
+<p>Hazelton watched, his face showing an appreciative grin.</p>
+
+<p>“It has the scoundrels scared and going!” Hazelton yelled back.</p>
+
+<p>Fully fifteen hundred cartridges did the machine gun deliver up
+and down that line.</p>
+
+<p>Then, suddenly, Dave Fulsbee swung the gun around, delivering
+a hailstorm of bullets against the bald knob rock and the bushes
+to the right of it.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s the answer!” gleefully uttered Hazelton, who had just
+handed the glass back to his chum.</p>
+
+<p>The “answer” was a fluttering bit of white cloth tied to a rifle
+and hoisted over the bushes at the right of the bald knob.</p>
+
+<p>“Who do you suppose is holding the white cloth?” chuckled Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t guess,” Harry confessed.</p>
+
+<p>“Our old and dangerous friend Peter,” Tom laughed.</p>
+
+<p>“Bad Pete!”</p>
+
+<p>“No; Scared Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a sudden twinkle in Hazelton’s eyes as he espied Dave
+Fulsbee’s rifle lying on the ground beside the machine gun.</p>
+
+<p>In another instant Harry had that rifle and was back at Tom’s
+side.</p>
+
+<p>Harry threw open the magazine, making sure that there were cartridges
+in the weapon. Then he dropped to one knee, taking careful sight
+in the direction of the white flag.</p>
+
+<p>“You idiot—-what are you doing?” blazed Tom.</p>
+
+<p>The fire from the camp had died out. That from the assailants
+beyond had ceased at least thirty seconds earlier.</p>
+
+<p>One sharp report broke the hush that followed.</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s doing that work? Stop it!” ordered Fulsbee, turning
+wrathfully.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m through,” grinned Harry meekly.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean by shooting at a flag of truce?” demanded the
+deputy sheriff angrily.</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t,” Harry argued, laying the rifle down on the ground.
+“I sent one in with my compliments, to see whether the fellow
+with the white rag would get the trembles. I guess he did, for
+the white rag has gone out of sight.”</p>
+
+<p>“They may start the firing again,” uttered Dave Fulsbee. “They’ll
+feel that you don’t respect their flag of truce.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t feel a heap of respect for the fellow that held up the
+white flag,” Hazelton admitted, with another grin. “It was Bad
+Pete, and I wanted to see what his nerve was like when someone
+else was doing the shooting and he was the target.”</p>
+
+<p>“Peter simply flopped and dropped his gun, Tom declared.</p>
+
+<p>“Say,” muttered Harry, his face showing real concern, “I hope
+I didn’t hit him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you aim at him?” demanded Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I did not.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then there _is_ some chance that Peter was hit,” Tom confessed.
+“Harry, when you’re shooting at a friend, and in a purely hospitable
+way, always aim straight for him. Then the poor fellow will have
+a good chance to get off with a whole skin!”</p>
+
+<p>“Cut out that line of talk,” ordered Hazelton, his face growing
+red. “Back in the old home days, Tom, you’ve seen me do some
+great shooting.”</p>
+
+<p>“With the putty-blower—-yes,” Tom admitted, with a chuckle.
+“Say, wasn’t Old Dut Jones, of the Central Grammar, rough on boys
+who used putty-blowers in the schoolroom?”</p>
+
+<p>“If Pete was hit, it wasn’t my shot that did it,” muttered Harry,
+growing redder still. “I aimed for the centre of that white rag.
+If we ever come across the rag we’ll find my bullet hole through
+it. That was what I hit.”</p>
+
+<p>Deputy Dave’s assistant was now cleaning out the soot-choked barrels
+of the machine gun, that the piece might be fit for use again as soon
+as the barrels had cooled.</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon,” declared Dave, “that our friends have done their worst.
+It’s my private wager that they’re now doing a foot race for the
+back trails.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is any one of our fellows hit?” called Tom, striding over to
+the late firing line. “Anyone hit? If so, we must take care
+of him at once.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom went the length of the line, only to discover that none of
+the camp’s defenders had been injured, despite the shower of bullets
+that had been poured in during the brief but brisk engagement.
+Three of the engineers displayed clothing that had been pierced
+by bullets.</p>
+
+<p>“Dave,” called Tom, “how soon will it be safe to send over to
+the late strongholds and find out whether any of Naughty Peter’s
+friends have any hurts that demand Doc Gitney’s attention?”</p>
+
+<p>“Huh! If any of the varmints are hit, I reckon they can wait,”
+muttered Fulsbee.</p>
+
+<p>“Not near this camp!” retorted Reade with spirit. “If any human
+being around here has been hurt he must have prompt care. How
+soon will it be safe to start?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know how soon it will be safe,” Dave retorted. “I want
+to take about a half dozen of the young fellows, on horseback,
+and ride over just to see if we can draw any fire. That will
+show whether the rascals have quit their ambushes.”</p>
+
+<p>“If they haven’t,” mocked Tom, “they’ll also show your little
+party some new gasps in the way of excitement.”</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless Reade did not object when Fulsbee called for volunteers.
+If any new firing was to be encountered it was better to risk
+a small force rather than a large one.</p>
+
+<p>Harry Hazelton was one of the six volunteers who rode out with
+Deputy Dave. Though they searched the country for miles they
+did not encounter any of the late raiders. Neither did they find
+any dead or wounded men.</p>
+
+<p>The abandoned transits and other instruments and implements were
+found and brought back to camp.</p>
+
+<p>While this party was absent Tom took Mr. Newnham back to headquarters
+tent, where he explained, in detail, all that had been accomplished
+and all that was now being done.</p>
+
+<p>Late in the afternoon Dave Fulsbee and his little force returned. Tom
+listened attentively to the report made by the sheriff’s officer.</p>
+
+<p>“They’ve cheated you out of one day’s work, anyway,” muttered the
+man from Broadway, rather fretfully.</p>
+
+<p>“We can afford to lose the time,” Tom answered almost carelessly.
+“Our field work is well ahead. It’s the construction work that
+is bothering me most. I hope soon to have news as to whether the
+construction outfit has been attacked.”</p>
+
+<p>“The wires are all up again, sir,” reported the operator, pausing
+at the doorway of the tent. “The men you sent back have mended
+all the breaks. I’ve just heard from the construction camp that
+none of the unknown scoundrels have been heard from there.”</p>
+
+<p>“They found you so well prepared here,” suggested President Newnham,
+“that the rascals have an idea that the construction camp is also well
+guarded. I imagine we’ve heard the last of the opposition.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re going to be fooled, sir,” Tom answered, very decisively.
+“For my part, I believe that the tactics of the gloom department of the
+W.C. &amp; A. have just been commenced. Fighting men of a sort are to be
+had cheap in these mountains, and the W.C. &amp; A. railroad is playing a
+game that it’s worth millions to win. They’re resolved that we shan’t
+win. And I, Mr. Newnham, am determined that we shall win!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX<br><span class="small">SHERIFF GREASE DROPS DAVE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Tom’s prediction came swiftly true in a score of ways.</p>
+
+<p>The gloom department of the W.C. &amp; A. immediately busied itself
+with the public.</p>
+
+<p>The “gloom department” is a comparatively new institution in some
+kinds of high finance circles. Its mission is to throw gloom
+over the undertakings of a rival concern. At the same time, through
+such matter as it can manage to have printed in some sorts of
+newspapers the gloom department seeks to turn the public against
+its business rivals.</p>
+
+<p>That same day news was flashed all over the country that a party
+of railway engineers, led by a mad deputy sheriff had wantonly
+fired on a party of travelers who had had the misfortune to get upon
+the building railway’s right of way.</p>
+
+<p>In many parts of Colorado a genuine indignation was aroused against
+the S.B. &amp; L. President Newnham sought to correct the wrong impression,
+but even his carefully thought out statements were misconstrued.</p>
+
+<p>The W.C. &amp; A., though owned mainly abroad, had some clever American
+politicians of the worst sort in its service. Many of these men
+were influential to some extent in Colorado.</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff of the county was approached and inflamed by some of
+these politicians, with the result that the sheriff hastened to the
+field camp, where he publicly dismissed Dave Fulsbee from his force
+of deputies. The sheriff solemnly closed his fiery speech by
+demanding Dave’s official badge.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s funny, but don’t mind, Dave,” laughed Tom, as he witnessed
+the handing over of the badge. “You won’t be out of work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Won’t be out of work, eh?” demanded Sheriff Grease hotly. “Just
+let him wait and see. There isn’t a man in the county who wants
+Dave Fulsbee about now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then what a disappointed crowd they’re going to be,” remarked
+Tom pleasantly, “for Mr. Newnham is going to make Dave chief of
+detectives for the company, at a salary of something like six
+thousand a year.</p>
+
+<p>“He is, oh?” gulped down Sheriff Grease. “I’ll bet he won’t. I’ll
+protest against that, right from the start.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dave will be our chief of detectives, if you protest all night
+and some more in the morning,” returned Tom Reade. “And Dave,
+I reckon, is going to need a force of at least forty men under
+him. Dave will be rather important in the county, won’t he, sheriff,
+if he has forty men under him who feel a good deal like voting the
+way that Dave believes? A forty-man boss is quite a little figure
+in politics, isn’t he, sheriff?”</p>
+
+<p>Grease turned nearly purple in the face, choking and sputtering
+in his wrath.</p>
+
+<p>“Come along, Dave, and see if that job as chief detective is open
+today,” urged Tom, drawing one arm through Fulsbee’s. “If you’re
+interested in knowing the news, sheriff, you might wait.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll——-” ground out Grease, gritting his teeth and clenching
+one fist. Tom waited patiently for the county officer to finish.
+Then, as he didn’t go further, Reade rejoined, half mockingly:</p>
+
+<p>“Exactly, sheriff. That’s just what I thought you’d do.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom dragged Dave down to the headquarters tent, where they
+found the president of the road.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham,” began Tom gravely, “the sheriff has just come to
+camp and has discharged Fulsbee from his force of deputies, just
+because Fulsbee acted as a real law officer and stopped the raid
+on the road. I have told Mr. Fulsbee, before Sheriff Grease, that
+you are going to make him chief of detectives for the road at a
+salary of about six thousand a year.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham displayed his astonishment very openly, though he
+did not speak at first.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all right,” replied President Newnham. “Mr. Fulsbee,
+do you accept the offer of six thousand as chief detective for
+the road,”</p>
+
+<p>“Does a man accept an invitation to eat when he’s hungry?” replied
+Dave rather huskily.</p>
+
+<p>“Then it’s settled,” put in Tom, anxious to clinch the matter,
+for he had a very shrewd idea that he would need Dave badly ere
+long. “Now, Mr. Newnham, until we get everything running smoothly,
+Mr. Fulsbee ought to have a force of about forty men. They will
+cost seventy-five dollars a month, per man, with an allowance
+for horses, forage, etc. Hadn’t Mr. Fulsbee better get his force
+together as soon as possible? For I am certain, sir, that the
+next move by the opposition will be to tear up and blow up our
+tracks at some unguarded points. At the same time, sir, I feel
+certain that we can get far more protection from Chief of Detectives
+Fulsbee’s men than from a man like Sheriff Grease.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade?” returned President Newnham, “it is plain to be seen that
+you lose no time in making your plans or in arranging to put them
+into execution. I imagine you’re right, for you’ve been right in
+everything so far. So arrange with Mr. Fulsbee for whatever you
+think may be needed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, sir,” murmured Tom. Then he signaled Fulsbee to get
+out of the tent, and followed that new official.</p>
+
+<p>“Never hang around, Dave, after you’ve got what you want,” chuckled
+Tom. “Hello, Mr. Sheriff! This is just a line to tell you that
+Fulsbee has a steady job with the company, and that he’ll need
+the services of at least forty men, all of whom must be voters
+in this county. The pay will be seventy-five a month and keep, with
+extra allowance for horses.”</p>
+
+<p>Sheriff Grease didn’t look much more pleasant than he felt.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you homeward bound—-when you go?” continued Reade.</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Then you might spread the word that men are needed, and tell
+the best men to apply to Dave Fulsbee, at this camp,” suggested
+Tom. “Be strong on the point that all applicants have to be voters
+in this county.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will,” nodded the sheriff, choking down his wrath by a great
+effort. “Dave won’t have any trouble in getting good men when
+I spread the word. You’re a mighty good fellow, Dave. I always
+said it,” added the sheriff. “I’m sorry I had to be rough with
+you, but—-but——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course we understand here that orders from a political boss
+have to be obeyed,” Tom added good-naturedly. “We won’t over-blame
+you, Mr. Grease.”</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff rode away, Tom’s smiling eyes following him.</p>
+
+<p>“That touch about your having forty voters at your beck and call
+must have stuck in the honorable sheriff’s crop, Dave,” chuckled
+the cub chief engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon it does,” drawled Dave. “A man like Grease can’t understand
+that a man of my kind wouldn’t ask any fellow working for him
+what ticket he voted for on election day. You certainly hit the
+sheriff hard, Mr. Reade. In the first place, six thousand a year
+is a lot more money than the sheriff gets himself. Forty voters
+are fully as many as he can control, for which reason Grease,
+in his mind’s eye, sees me winning his office away from him any day
+that I want to do so.”</p>
+
+<p>Ere three days had passed Sheriff Grease had lost fully half of
+his own force, and some of his controlled voters as well, for many
+of his deputies flocked to serve under Dave Fulsbee. The rest of
+the needed detectives also came in, and Dave was soon busy posting
+his men to patrol the S.B. &amp; L. and protect the workers against any
+more raids by armed men.</p>
+
+<p>After a fortnight student Reynolds recovered sufficiently to be sent
+to Denver, there to complete his work of recovering from his wound.
+President Newnham also saw to it that Reynolds was well repaid for
+his services.</p>
+
+<p>The camp moved on. Soon Lineville was sighted from the advanced
+camp of the engineers. As Lineville was to be the western terminus
+of the new railroad the work of the field party was very nearly
+finished.</p>
+
+<p>President Newnham, who was all anxiety to see the first train run
+over the road, remained with the field engineers.</p>
+
+<p>“I couldn’t sleep at night, if I were anywhere else than here,”
+explained the president, “though I feel assured now that the W.C.
+&amp; A. will make no more efforts, in the way of violence; to prevent
+us from finishing the building of the road.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re more trustful than I am,” smiled Tom Reade. “What’s
+worrying me most of all is that I can’t quite fathom in what way
+the W.C. &amp; A’s gloom department will plan to stop us. That they
+have some plan—-and a rascally one—-I’m as certain, sir, as I am
+that I’m now speaking with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Has Fulsbee any suspicions?” inquired Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Loads of ’em,” declared Tom promptly.</p>
+
+<p>“What does he think the W.C. &amp; A. will try to do?”</p>
+
+<p>“Dave’s suspicions, Mr. Newnham, aren’t any more definite than mine.
+He feels certain, however, that we’re going to have a hard fight
+before we get the road through.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I hope the opposition won’t be able to prevent us from finishing,”
+murmured Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, the enemy won’t be able to hinder us,” replied Tom confidently.
+“You have a Fulsbee and a Reade on the job, sir. Don’t worry.
+I’m not doing any real worrying, and I promise you that I’m not
+going to be beaten.”</p>
+
+<p>“It will be a genuine wonder if Reade is beaten,” reflected Mr.
+Newnham, watching the cub’s athletic figure as Tom walked through
+the centre of the camp. “I never knew a man of any age who was
+more resourceful or sure to win than this same cub, Tom Reade,
+whose very name was unknown to me a few weeks ago. Yet I shiver!
+I can’t help it. Men just as resourceful as Tom Reade are sometimes
+beaten to a finish!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX<br><span class="small">MR. NEWNHAM DROPS A BOMB</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The field work was done. Yet the field engineers were not dismissed.
+Instead, they were sent back along the line. The construction
+gang was still twelve miles out of Lineville, and the time allowed
+by the charter was growing short.</p>
+
+<p>At Denver certain politicians seemed to have very definite information
+that the S.B. &amp; L. R.R., was not going to finish the building of
+the road and the operating of the first through train within charter
+time.</p>
+
+<p>Where these politicians had obtained their news they did not take the
+trouble to state.</p>
+
+<p>However, they seemed positive that, under the terms of the charter,
+the state would take over as much of the railroad as was finished,
+pay an appraisal price for it, and then turn the road over to
+the W.C. &amp; A. promoters to finish and use as part of their own
+railway system.</p>
+
+<p>These same politicians, by the way, were a handful of keen,
+unscrupulous men who derived their whole income from politics, and
+who had always been identified with movements that the better
+people of the state usually opposed.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston and his assistant, Blaisdell, were now able to be
+up and to move about a little, but were not yet able to travel
+forward to the point that the construction force had now reached.
+Neither Thurston nor Blaisdell was in fit shape to work, and
+would not be for some weeks to come.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham, who had learned in these weeks to ride a horse, came
+along in saddle as Tom and Harry stood watching the field camp
+that was now being rapidly taken down by the few men left behind.</p>
+
+<p>“Idling, as usual, Reade?” smiled the president of the road.</p>
+
+<p>“This time I seem to have a real excuse, sir,” chuckled Tom.
+“My work is finished. There isn’t a blessed thing that I could
+do, if I wanted to. By tomorrow I suppose you will be paying
+me off and letting me go.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let you go—-before the road is running?” demanded Mr. Newnham,
+in astonishment. “Reade, have you noted any signs of my mind
+failing lately?”</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then why should you imagine that I am going to let my chief engineer
+go before the road is in operations”</p>
+
+<p>“But I was acting chief, sir, only of the field work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” continued Mr. Newnham, “I have something to tell you.
+Thurston has left our employ. So has Blaisdell. They are not
+dissatisfied in any way, but neither man is yet fit to work.
+Besides, both are tired of the mountains, and want to go east
+together as soon as possible and take up some other line of
+engineering work. So—-well, Reade, if you want it, you are
+now chief engineer of the S.B. &amp; L. in earnest.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t trifle with me, sir!” begged Tom incredulously. “I’m too
+far from home.”</p>
+
+<p>“No one has ever accused me of being a humorist,” replied Mr.
+Newnham dryly. “Now tell me, Reade, whether you want the post I
+have offered you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Want it?” echoed Tom. “Of course I do. Yet doesn’t it seem
+too ‘fresh’ in a cub like myself to take such a post?”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve won it,” replied the president. “It’s also true that
+you’re only a cub engineer in years, and there are many greater
+engineers than yourself in the country. You have executive ability,
+however, Reade. You are able to start a thing, and then put it
+through on time—-or before. The executive is the type of man who
+is most needed in this or any other country.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is an executive a lazy fellow who can make others work!” asked
+Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“No; an executive is a man who can choose other men, and can wisely
+direct them to big achievements. An executive is a director of
+fine team play. That describes you, Reade. However—-you haven’t
+yet accepted the position as chief engineer of the S.B. &amp; L.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll end your suspense then, sir,” smiled the cub. “I _do_ accept,
+and with a big capital ‘A’.”</p>
+
+<p>“As to your salary,” continued Mr. Newnham, “nothing has been
+said about that, and nothing need be said until we see whether
+the road is operating in season to save its charter. If we save
+our charter and the road, your salary will be in line with the
+size of the achievement.”</p>
+
+<p>“If we should lose the charter, sir,” Tom retorted, his face clouding,
+“I don’t believe I’d take any interest in the salary question.
+Money is a fine thing, but the game—-the battle—-is twenty
+times more interesting. However, I’m going to predict, Mr. Newnham,
+that the road WILL operate on time.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe you’re going to make good, Reade, no matter what a
+small coterie of politicians at Denver may think. I never met
+a man who had success stamped more plainly on his face than you
+have. By the way, I shall ask you to keep Mr. Howe as an assistant.
+You still have the appointment of one other assistant, in place
+of Mr. Blaisdell.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know the fellow I’d like to appoint,” cried Tom eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“If you’re sure about him, then go ahead and appoint him,” responded
+the president of the S.B. &amp; L. railway.</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton!” proclaimed Tom. “Good, old dependable Harry Hazelton!”</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton would be a wise choice,” nodded Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry!” called Reade, as his chum appeared in the distance.
+“Come here hustle!”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham turned away as Hazelton came forward. Tom quickly
+told his chum the news.</p>
+
+<p>“I? Assistant chief engineer?” gasped Harry, turning red. “Whew,
+but that’s great! However, I’m not afraid of falling down, Tom,
+with you to steer me. What’s the pay of the new job!”</p>
+
+<p>“Not decided,” rejoined Tom. “Wait until we get the road through
+and the charter is safe.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind the wages. The job’s the thing, after all!” cried
+Harry, his face aglow. “Whew! I’ll send a letter home tonight
+with the news.”</p>
+
+<p>“Make it a small post card, then, concealed under a postage stamp,”
+counseled Reade dryly. “We’ve work ahead of us—-not writing.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the first thing you’re going to do?” inquired Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“The first thing will be to get on the job.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re going back to the construction force?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am.”</p>
+
+<p>“When?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we start within five minutes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Whew!”</p>
+
+<p>His face still aglow with happiness, Harry Hazelton bounded off
+to his tent. Tom called to one of the men to saddle two horses,
+and then followed.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re going back to the construction camp?” inquired Mr. Newnham,
+looking in at the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“As fast as horses can take us, sir,” Tom replied, as he whipped
+out a clean flannel shirt and drew it over his head.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going with you,” replied Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll ride fast, if you go with us, sir,” called Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I can stand it, if you can, Reade. Your enthusiasm and speed
+are ‘catching,’” replied the president, with a laugh, as he started
+off to give orders about his horse.</p>
+
+<p>“If the president is going with us, then we’ll have to take two
+of Dave Fulsbee’s men with us,” mused Tom aloud to his chum.
+“It would never do to have our president captured just before
+we’re ready to open the road to traffic.”</p>
+
+<p>The orders were accordingly given. Tom then appointed one of
+the chainmen to command the camp until the construction gang came up.</p>
+
+<p>Just seven minutes after he had given the first order, Tom Reade
+was in saddle. Hazelton was seated on another horse some thirty
+seconds afterward. The two railroad detectives rode forward,
+halting near by, and all waited for Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did the president of the S.B. &amp; L. delay them long. During
+his weeks in camp in the Rockies the man from Broadway had learned
+something of the meaning of the word “hustle.”</p>
+
+<p>As the party started Tom ordered one of the detectives to ride
+two hundred yards in advance of the party, the other the same
+distance to the rear.</p>
+
+<p>“Set a good pace, and keep it,” called Tom along the trail.
+Shortly after dark the party reached the construction camp, which
+now numbered about five hundred men.</p>
+
+<p>Assistant Chief Engineer Howe appeared more than a little astonished
+when he learned that Tom Reade was the actual chief engineer of
+the road. However, the man who had been in charge so far of the
+construction work made no fuss about being supplanted.</p>
+
+<p>“Show me what part of the work you want me to handle,” offered
+Howe, “and you’ll find me right with you, Mr. Reade.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you,” responded Tom, holding out his hand. “I’m glad you
+feel no jealousy or resentment. There’s just one thing in life
+for all of us, now, and that is to win the fight.”</p>
+
+<p>Howe produced the plans and reports, and the three—-for Hazelton
+was of their number—-sat up until long after midnight laying out
+plans for pushing the work faster and harder.</p>
+
+<p>At four in the morning, while it was still dark, Tom was up again.
+He sat at the desk, going over the work once more until half
+past five o’clock. Then he called Harry and Howe, and the trio
+of chiefs had a hurried breakfast together.</p>
+
+<p>At six in the morning Mr. Newnham appeared, just in time to find
+Tom and Harry getting into saddle.</p>
+
+<p>“Not going to stay behind and sit in an easy chair this morning,
+Reade?” called the president.</p>
+
+<p>“Not this, or any other morning, sir,” Tom replied.</p>
+
+<p>“You amaze me!”</p>
+
+<p>“This construction work requires more personal attention, sir.
+I may have twenty minutes to dream, in the afternoon, but my
+mornings are mortgaged each day, from four o’clock on.”</p>
+
+<p>An hour later Mr. Howe joined Reade and Hazelton in the field.
+Tom had already prodded three or four foremen, showing them how
+their gangs were losing time.</p>
+
+<p>“If we get the road through on time, and save the charter,” Tom
+called, on leaving each working party, “every laborer and foreman
+is to have an extra week’s pay for his loyalty to us.”</p>
+
+<p>In every instance that statement brought forth a cheer.</p>
+
+<p>“Did Mr. Newnham tell you that you could promise that?” inquired
+Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said Tom shortly.</p>
+
+<p>“Then aren’t you going a bit far, perhaps!”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t care,” retorted Tom. “Victory is the winning of millions;
+defeat is the loss of millions. Do you imagine Mr. Newnham will
+care about a little thing such as I’ve promised the men? Harry,
+our president is a badly worried man, though he doesn’t allow
+himself to show it. Once the road is finished, operating and
+safe, he won’t care what money he has to spend in rewards. He——-”</p>
+
+<p>Tom did not finish his words. Instead he dug his heels into his
+pony, bringing his left hand down hard on that animal’s flank.</p>
+
+<p>“Yi, yi, yi! Git!” called Tom, bending low over his mount’s neck.
+He drove straight ahead. Hazelton looked astonished for a space
+of five seconds, then started in pursuit of his chum and chief.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long ere Tom reined in, holding up a hand as a signal
+to Harry to do the same thing.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, hold my horse, and stay right here,” ordered the young chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, what on earth——-”</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade was already a hundred yards away, running in amid the
+brush. At last he halted, studying the ground earnestly. Then
+Reade disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>“One thing I know, anyway,” muttered the puzzled Hazelton, “Tom
+is not crazy, and he doesn’t dash off like that unless he has
+something real on his mind.” The minutes passed. At last Tom
+came back, walking energetically. He took his horse’s bridle
+and leaded into saddle.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, ride back, hard, and send me two or three of the railroad
+detectives, unless you happen to meet some of them this side of
+the camp. I want the men on the rush. Don’t fail to tell ’em
+that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Any—-er—-explanations” queried Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“For you—-yes—-but don’t take the time to pass the explanation
+on to the men. Just hustle ’em here. When I started my horse
+forward it was because I caught sight of ’Gene Black’s head over
+the bush tops. I found a few of his footprints, then lost the
+trail. Send Dave Fulsbee along, too, if you have the luck to
+see him. I want ’Gene Black hunted down before he does some big
+mischief. Now—-ride!”</p>
+
+<p>Harry Hazelton went back over the trail at a gallop.</p>
+
+<p>Not until he reached camp did he come upon Fulsbee’s men. These
+he hustled out to find Tom.</p>
+
+<p>Two hours later Reade came back over the trail, at a slow jog.
+The young chief engineer looked more worried than Hazelton had
+ever seen his chum look before.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI<br><span class="small">THE TRAP AT THE FINISH</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>A number of days passed, days full of worry for the young chief
+engineer. Yet, outwardly, Tom Reade was as good-humored and cheery
+as ever.</p>
+
+<p>He was sure that his eyes had played him no trick, and that he
+really had seen ’Gene Black in the brush.</p>
+
+<p>The presence of that scoundrel persuaded Tom that someone working
+in the interests of the W.C. &amp; A. Railroad Company was still employing
+Black in an attempt to block the successful completion of the
+S.B. &amp; L.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, the news that Dave Fulsbee received from Denver showed
+that two of the officials of the W.C. &amp; A. were in that city,
+apparently ready to proceed to get possession of the rival road.</p>
+
+<p>Politicians asserted that it was a “cinch” that the new road would
+fall short of the charter requirement in the matter of time.</p>
+
+<p>“All this confidence on the part of the enemy is pretty fair proof
+that the scoundrels are up to something,” Tom told Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Or else they’re trying to break down our nerve so that we’ll
+fail through sheer collapse,” replied the president of the S.B.
+&amp; L., rubbing his hands nervously. “Reade, why should there be
+such scoundrels in the world?”</p>
+
+<p>“The president is all but completely gone to pieces,” Reade confided
+to his chum. “Say, but I’m glad Mr. Newnham himself isn’t the
+one who has to get the road through in time. If it rested with
+him I’m afraid he’d fizzle. But we’ll pull it through, Harry,
+old chum—-we’ll pull it through.”</p>
+
+<p>“If this thing had to last a month more I’m afraid good old Tom
+would go to pieces himself,” thought Harry, as he watched his
+friend stride away. “Tom never gets to his cot now before eleven
+at night, and four thirty in the morning always finds him astir
+again. I wonder if he thinks he’s fooling me by looking so blamed
+cheerful and talking so confidently. Whew! I’d be afraid for
+poor old Tom’s brain if anything should happen to trip us up.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry himself was anxious, but he was not downright nervous.
+He did not feel things as keenly as did his chum; neither was
+Hazelton directly responsible for the success of the big undertaking.</p>
+
+<p>Mile after mile the construction work stretched. Trains were
+running now for work purposes, nearly as far as the line extended.</p>
+
+<p>The telegraph wires ran into the temporary station building at
+Lineville, and the several operators along the line were busy
+carrying orders through the length of the wire service.</p>
+
+<p>Back at Stormburg, where the railroad line began, three trains
+lay on side tracks. These were passenger trains that were to
+run the entire length of the road as soon as it was opened.</p>
+
+<p>Back at Stormburg, also, the new general superintendent slept
+at his office that he might receive messages from President Newnham
+the more quickly.</p>
+
+<p>At Bakerstown a division superintendent was stationed, he, too,
+sleeping at his office.</p>
+
+<p>Once more Tom Reade had brought his work within sight of Lineville.
+In fact, the track extended all but the last mile of the line.
+Ties were down nearly all of the way to the terminal station.</p>
+
+<p>This was the state of affairs at two o’clock in the afternoon.
+Before midnight the last rail must be laid, and the first through
+train from Stormburg must run in. If, at the stroke of midnight,
+the first train had failed to go through, then the charter of
+the S.B. &amp; L. would be forfeited and subject to seizure and sale
+by the state.</p>
+
+<p>Up from Denver some of the worst politicians had come. They were
+quartered at the new little hotel in Lineville. Dave Fulsbee had
+detailed three of his men covertly to watch these same politicians.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, inwardly consumed with fever, outwardly as cheery as human being
+might be, stood watching the laying of the rails over that last
+stretch. The men who could be prevented from dropping in their tracks
+must work until the last rail had been spiked into place. Away up in
+Lineville Harry Hazelton was personally superintending the laying of
+the last ties.</p>
+
+<p>The honk of an automobile horn caused Tom Reade to glance up.
+Approaching him was President Newnham, himself driving the runabout
+that he had had forwarded.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade!” called the president of the S.B. &amp; L., stopping his car, and
+Tom went over to him.</p>
+
+<p>“The suspense is over, at last, Reade,” exclaimed Mr. Newnham, smiling
+broadly. “Look! the road is all but completed. Hundreds of men are
+toiling. The first train left Stormburg this morning. By seven tonight
+you’ll have the last rails in place. Between eight and nine this
+evening the first through train will have rolled into Lineville and we
+shall have won the fight that has brought me many gray hairs. At last
+the worry is over!”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, sir,” nodded Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, don’t you really believe that the stress is over—-that
+we shall triumph tonight?”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course we shall, sir,” Tom responded. “I have predicted,
+all along, that we’d have the road through in time, haven’t I?”</p>
+
+<p>“And the credit is nearly all yours, Reade,” admitted Mr. Newnham
+gleefully. “Nearly all yours, lad!”</p>
+
+<p>Honk! honk! Unable to remain long at one spot, Mr. Newnham started
+his car again.</p>
+
+<p>Reade felt a depression that he could not shake off.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s just the reaction following the long train,” Tom tried to
+tell himself. “Whew! Until within the last two or three days
+I haven’t half realized how much the strain was taking out of
+me! I’ll wager I’ll sleep, tonight, after I once have the satisfaction
+of seeing the first train roll in!”</p>
+
+<p>By six o’clock Tom felt as though he could hardly stand up. Be
+wondered if his teeth were really chattering, or whether he merely
+imagined it.</p>
+
+<p>To take up his time Tom tried a brisk canter, away from the railroad.
+At seven o’clock he rode into Lineville.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, Tom!”, bawled Harry, from the centre of a group of workmen.
+“We’ve been looking for you! Come here quickly!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom urged his pony forward to the station from which Hazelton had
+called him.</p>
+
+<p>“Watch this—-just watch it!” begged Harry.</p>
+
+<p>Clank! clank! clank! Tom Reade, gazing in fascination, saw
+the last spike of the last rail being driven into place.</p>
+
+<p>“Two sidetracks and switches already up!” called Harry.</p>
+
+<p>Tom threw his bridle to one of the workmen, then sprang from his
+horse. Out of the station came Mr. Newnham, waving a telegram.</p>
+
+<p>“Our first train, with passengers, has just left the station at
+Brand’s Ranch junction, a hundred and ten miles away,” shouted
+the president of the road. “The train should be here long before
+ten o’clock.”</p>
+
+<p>From the crowd a cheer greeted the announcement.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s nothing left but to wait to win,” continued Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>Five hundred voices in the crowd cheered the announcement. A
+group of five Denver politicians smiled sardonically.</p>
+
+<p>Tom pushed his way gently through the crowd, glancing inside the
+station. There was no one there, save an operator. Closing the
+door behind him, Tom crossed to a seat and sank wearily upon it.</p>
+
+<p>Here he sat for some minutes, to be discovered by the telegraph
+operator when the latter came out to light the lamps in the waiting
+room.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade is all in, I guess,” thought the operator. “I don’t
+wonder. I hope he goes to sleep where he sits.”</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later the receiver of one of the up the terminal station.
+The operator broke in, sending back his response. Then a telegram
+came, which he penned on paper.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade,” called the operator, “this is for you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom sat up, brushing his eyes, and read:</p>
+
+<p>“If you can spare time wish you would ride down track to point
+about two miles west of Miller’s where brook crosses under roadbed.
+Have something to show you that will interest you. Nothing serious,
+but will fill you with wonder. My men all along line report all
+safe and going well. Come at once.” (signed) “Dave Fulsbee.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom’s first instinct was to start and tremble. He felt sure that
+Fulsbee had bad news and was trying to conceal the fact until
+he could see the young chief engineer in person.</p>
+
+<p>“But that’s really not Dave’s way,” Reade told himself in the
+next breath. “Fulsbee talks straight out from the shoulder.
+What has he to show me, I wonder! Gracious, how tired I am!
+If Fulsbee knew just how I feel at this moment he wouldn’t send
+for me. But of course he doesn’t know.”</p>
+
+<p>Stepping outside, Tom looked about, espying his pony standing
+where it had been tied to one of the porch pillars of the station.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll get Harry to ride with me,” Reade thought, but he found
+his chum engaged in testing a stretch of rails near the station,
+a dozen of the college students with him.</p>
+
+<p>“Pshaw! I’m strong enough to ride five miles alone,” muttered
+Tom. “Thank goodness my horse hasn’t been used up. Never mind,
+Tom Reade. To-morrow you can ride as far as you like on the railroad,
+with never a penny of fare to pay, either!”</p>
+
+<p>Unnoticed, the young chief engineer untied his horse in the dark,
+mounted and rode away.</p>
+
+<p>How dark and long the way seemed. Truth to tell, Tom Reade was
+very close to the collapse that seemed bound to follow the reaction
+once his big task was safely over. Only his strength of will
+sustained him. He gripped the pony’s sides with his knees.</p>
+
+<p>“I wouldn’t want anyone to see me riding in this fashion!” muttered
+the lad. “I must look worse than a tenderfoot. Why, I’ll be
+really glad if Dave Fulsbee can ride back with me. I had no idea
+he was so near. I believed him to be at least fifty or sixty
+miles down the line.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom was nearing the place appointed when a sudden whistle rang
+out from the brush beside the track.</p>
+
+<p>Then half a dozen men leaped out into view in the darkness, two
+of them seizing the bridle of his horse.</p>
+
+<p>“Good evening, Reade!” called the mocking voice of ’Gene Black.
+“Down this way to see your first train go through? Stay with
+us, and we’ll show you how it doesn’t get through—-not tonight!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII<br><span class="small">“CAN YOUR ROAD SAVE ITS CHARTER NOW?”</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Oh, I guess the train will go through, all right,” replied Tom
+Reade, with much more confidence expressed in his tone than he
+really felt.</p>
+
+<p>“Stay with us and see it go through,” mocked ’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“If it’s just the same to you I’d rather ride on,” Tom proposed.</p>
+
+<p>“But it isn’t all the same to us,” Black chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I guess I prefer to ride on, anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t, though,” snapped Black. “You’ll get off that horse
+and do as we tell you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Eh?” demanded the young chief engineer. He appeared astonished,
+though he was not.</p>
+
+<p>“You came down the line to meet your railroad detective, Fulsbee,”
+Black continued sneeringly. “You’d better give it up.”</p>
+
+<p>“You seem to think you know a good deal about my business,” Tom
+continued.</p>
+
+<p>“I know all about the telegram,” ’Gene retorted. “I sent it—-or
+ordered it sent.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom started in earnest this time.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you ever hear of ways of cutting out a telegraph wire and
+then attaching one of the cut ends to a box relay?” queried the
+scoundrel.</p>
+
+<p>“I—-I believe I have heard of some such thing,” Reade hesitated.
+“Was that the trick you played on me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” nodded Gene Black. “We cut the wire just below here.
+We’ve got a box relay on the wire going both ways. Your operators
+can’t use the wire much tonight. Your company can’t use it from
+Lineville at all.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom’s face showed his dismay. ’Gene Black laughed in intense
+enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>“So you cut the wire, oh, and attached box relays?”</p>
+
+<p>“Surely,” Black nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad you confess it,” replied Tom slowly. “Cutting telegraph
+wires, or attaching box relays without proper authority is a felony.
+The punishment is a term in state’s prison.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bosh!” sneered Black. “With all the political pull our crowd
+has behind it do you suppose we fear a little thing like that?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll talk the crime over with Dave Fulsbee,” Tom continued.</p>
+
+<p>“A lot of good Fulsbee will do you,” jeered ’Gene. “We have him
+attended to as well as we have you.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a lie,” Reade declared coolly.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you want us to show him to you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” nodded Tom. “You’d have to show me Dave Fulsbee before
+I’d believe you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yank the cub off that horse!” ordered ’Gene Black harshly.</p>
+
+<p>Three or four men seized Reade, dragging him out of the saddle
+and throwing him to earth. Tom did not resist, for he saw other
+men standing about with revolvers in their hands. He did not
+believe that this desperate crew of worthless characters would
+hesitate long about drilling holes through him.</p>
+
+<p>“Take the horse, you, and ride it away,” directed Black, turning
+to one of the men, who promptly mounted and rode off into the
+darkness. “Tie that cub’s hands behind him,” was Black’s next
+order. “Now, bring him along.”</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black led the way back from the track and into the woods
+for a few rods. Then the party wheeled, going eastward in a line
+parallel with the track.</p>
+
+<p>Tom did not speak during the journey. It was not his nature to
+use words where they would be worse than wasted.</p>
+
+<p>After proceeding a quarter of a mile or so, Black parted the bushes
+of a dense thicket and led the way inside. At the centre the
+brush had been cleaned out, clearing a circular space about twenty
+feet in diameter and dimly lighted by a lantern placed in the
+centre of the inclosure.</p>
+
+<p>“A snug little place, Reade,” chuckled the scoundrel, turning about
+as Reade was piloted into the retreat. “How do you like it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I like the place a whole lot better than the company,” Tom answered
+promptly.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with the company?” jeered Black.</p>
+
+<p>“A hangman would feel more at home in a crowd like this.”</p>
+
+<p>“See here, cub! Don’t you try to get funny,” warned Black, his
+eyes snapping dangerously. “If you attempt any of your impudence
+here you’ll soon find out who’s master.”</p>
+
+<p>“Master?” scoffed Tom, his own eyes flashing. “Black, do you
+draw any comfort from feeling that you’re boss of such an outfit?
+Though I daresay that the outfit is better than its boss. However,
+you asked my opinion, and you got it. I’ll give you a little
+more of my opinion, Black, and it won’t cost you a cent.”</p>
+
+<p>He looked steadily into his enemy’s eyes as he continued:</p>
+
+<p>“Black, a good, clean dog wouldn’t willingly stand by this crowd!”</p>
+
+<p>Thump! ’Gene Blacks clenched fist landed in Reade’s face, knocking
+him down.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you,” murmured Reade, as he sat up.</p>
+
+<p>“Much obliged, are you?” jeered Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” admitted Tom. “As far as it goes. That was a coward’s
+act—-to have a fellow’s hands tied before daring to hit him.”</p>
+
+<p>Black’s face now turned livid with passion.</p>
+
+<p>“Lift the fool to his feet, if he wants to stand,” ordered Black
+savagely. “He’s trying to make me waste my time talking to him.
+Operator, call up Brewster’s and ask if he held the train as
+ordered by wire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oho!” thought Tom. “So that’s your trick? You have the wire
+in your control, and you’re sending supposed train orders holding
+the train at a station so that it can’t get through You’re a worse
+scoundrel than I thought!”</p>
+
+<p>Off at the edge of the brush, on the inner side, a telegraph instrument
+had been set up on a barrel. From the instrument a wire ran toward
+the track.</p>
+
+<p>In another moment the sounder of the sender was clicking busily.
+There was a pause, then the answer came back:
+Click-click-click-clickety-click!</p>
+
+<p>The operator, a seedy-looking fellow over whose whole appearance
+was written the word “worthless,” swung a lantern so that the light
+fell on a pad of paper before him. Pencil in hand, he took off the
+message as it came.</p>
+
+<p>“Come over here and read it, sir?” inquired the operator.</p>
+
+<p>Black crossed, bending over the sheet. Despite himself the scoundrel
+started. Then he moved so that the light should not fall across
+his face. Plainly Black was greatly disappointed. He swallowed
+hard, then strolled back to the main group, of which Tom was one.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the way to do business,” announced ’Gene Black, with a
+chuckle. “We sent fake train orders from the top of that barrel,
+and your own railroad operator handed the orders to the conductor
+of your through train. Therefore the train is switched off on
+to the side track at Brewster’s, and the engineer, under the false
+orders, is allowing his steam to cool. Now, do you believe you
+will get your train through tonight?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes!” yawned Tom coolly. “For you are lying. The message
+that came back over the wire from our operator at Brewster’s read
+in these words: ‘Showed your order to train conductor. He refused
+order, saying that it was not signed properly. Train has proceeded.’”</p>
+
+<p>It was an incautious speech for Tom Reade Black fairly glared into
+his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“So you can pick up telegraph messages by the sounds” ’Gene demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“’Most anyone can who has ever worked over a telegraph key,” Tom
+admitted.</p>
+
+<p>Now that the secret was out, Black plainly showed his anger over
+the fact that the conductor had refused train orders at Brewster’s.
+“You S.B. &amp; L. fellows have put up some trick to beat us off!” he
+declared, looking accusingly into Tom’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“What of it?” Reade inquired. “It’s our railroad, isn’t it? Can’t
+we do what we please with our own road?”</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t be your road after tonight!” Black insisted, grinding
+his teeth in his rage. “Fortunately, we have other ways of stopping
+that train from getting through. You’ll soon know it, too.”</p>
+
+<p>Black called to the tramp operator.</p>
+
+<p>“My man, call up the box relay fellow below here.”</p>
+
+<p>The sounder clicked busily for some moments. “I have the other
+box relay man,” declared the operator.</p>
+
+<p>“Then send this, very carefully,” Black continued hoarsely:
+“X-x-x—-a-a-a—-b-b-b.”</p>
+
+<p>The operator repeated it. Black nodded. Once more the instrument
+clicked.</p>
+
+<p>“The other box relay man signals that he has it,” nodded Black’s
+present operator.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen! Everyone of you! Not a sound in this outfit,” commanded
+’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>For fully three minutes the intense silence continued. Then Black
+turned again to the operator, saying:</p>
+
+<p>“Ask the other box relay man if anything has happened near him?”</p>
+
+<p>A minute later Black’s operator reported:</p>
+
+<p>“He says: ‘Yes; happened successfully.’”</p>
+
+<p>“Good!” laughed Black, a look of fierce Joy lighting up his eyes.
+“Now, Reade, I guess you’ll admit yourself beaten. An electric
+spark has touched off a charge of giant powder under the roadbed.
+The rails have been blown skyward and a big hole torn out of
+the roadbed itself. Even if you had a wrecking crew at the spot
+at this moment the road couldn’t be prepared for traffic inside
+of twenty-four hours. NOW, will your through train reach Lineville
+tonight? Can your road save its charter _now_?”</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade’s face turned deathly white.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black stood before him, gazing tauntingly into the eyes
+of the Young Chief engineer.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII<br><span class="small">BLACK’S TRUMP CARD</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“You scoundrel—-you unhung imitation of Satan himself!” gasped
+Reade, great beads of perspiration standing out on his face.</p>
+
+<p>“Oho! We’re fools, are we?” sneered Black “We’re people whom
+you can beat with your cheap little tricks about a different signature
+for each station on the line, are we? For that was why the conductor
+refused the false order at Brewster’s. He has a code of signatures
+for train orders—-a different signature to be used for messages
+at each station?”</p>
+
+<p>Black’s keen mind had solved the reason for the conductor’s refusal
+to hold his train on a siding. The conductor _had_ been supplied
+with a code list of signatures—-a different one for each station
+along the line.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, you know,” mocked Black, enjoying every line of anxiety
+written on Tom Reade’s face, “that we have you knocked silly.
+You know, now, that your train can’t get through by tonight—-probably
+not even by tomorrow night. You realize at last—-eh?—-that
+you’ve lost your train and your charter—-your railroad?”</p>
+
+<p>“I wasn’t thinking of the train, or of the road,” Tom groaned.
+“What I’m thinking of is the train, traveling at high speed,
+running into that blown-out place. The train will be ditched
+and the crew killed. A hundred and fifty passengers with them—-many
+of them state officials. Oh, Black, I wouldn’t dare stand in
+your shoes now! The whole state—-the entire country—-will unite
+in running you down. You can never hope to escape the penalty
+of your crime!”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you talking about?” sneered Black. “Do you think I’m
+fool enough to ditch the train? No, sir! Don’t believe it.
+I’m not running my neck into a noose of that kind. A cluster
+of red lights has been spread along the track before the blow-out.
+The engineer will see the signals and pull his train up—-he
+has to, by law! No one on the train will be hurt, but the train
+simply can’t get through!”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, if the train is safe, I don’t care so much,” replied Reade,
+the color slowly returning to his face. “As for getting through
+tonight, the S.B. &amp; L. has a corps of engineers and a full staff
+in other departments. Black, you’ll lose after all your trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” muttered Black unbelievingly. “Your train will have
+to get through in less than three hours, Reade!”</p>
+
+<p>“It’ll do it, somehow,” smiled Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; your engineers will bring it through, somehow,” taunted
+Black. “We have the chief of that corps with us right now.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all right,” retorted Tom. “You’re welcome to me, if I
+can be of any real comfort to you. But you forget that you haven
+it my assistant. Harry Hazelton is at large, among his own friends.
+Harry will see the train through tonight. Never worry.”</p>
+
+<p>Click-click-click-click! sounded the machine on the barrel.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s the division superintendent at Lineville, calling up Brewster’s,”
+announced the operator.</p>
+
+<p>“Answer for Brewster, then,” directed Black. “Let us see what the
+division super wants, anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>More clicking followed, after which the operator explained:</p>
+
+<p>“Division super asks Brewster if through train has passed there.”</p>
+
+<p>“Answer, ‘Yes; twelve minutes ago,’” directed Black.</p>
+
+<p>The instrument clicked furiously for a few moments.</p>
+
+<p>“The division super keeps sending, ‘Sign, sign, sign!’” explained
+the operator at the barrel. “So I’ve kept on signing ‘Br,’ ‘Br,’
+over and over again. That’s the proper signature for Brewster’s.”</p>
+
+<p>Again the machine clicked noisily.</p>
+
+<p>“Still insisting on the signature,” grinned the operator uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know the name of the operator at Brewster’s?” demanded
+’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” nodded the man at the barrel. “The operator at Brewster’s
+is a chap named Havens.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then send the signature, ‘Havens, operator, Brewster’s,” ordered Black.</p>
+
+<p>Still the machine clicked insistently.</p>
+
+<p>“Super still yells for my signature,” explained the man at the
+barrel desk. “He demands to know whether I’m really the operator
+at Brewster’s, or whether I’ve broken in on the wire at some other
+point.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t answer the division super any further, then,” snorted Black
+disgustedly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, with his ability to read messages, was enjoying the whole
+situation until Black, with a sudden flash of his eyes, turned upon
+the cub chief engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he hissed, “you must know the proper signature for tonight
+for the operator at Brewster’s to use.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing doing,” grunted Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us that signature the right one for Brewster’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing doing,” Tom repeated.</p>
+
+<p>“Put a pistol muzzle to his ear and see his memory brighten,”
+snarled the scoundrel.</p>
+
+<p>One of the hard-looking men behind Tom obeyed. Reade, it must
+be confessed, shivered slightly when he felt the cold touch of
+steel behind his ear.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us the proper signature!” insisted ’Gene.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing doing,” Tom insisted.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us the right signature, or take the consequences!”</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t give it to you,” Tom replied steadily. “I don’t know
+the signature.”</p>
+
+<p>“You lie!”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom had gotten his drawl back.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you want to have the trigger of that pistol pulled?” cried
+’Gene Black hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>“I certainly don’t,” Tom confessed. “Neither do I doubt that
+you fellows are scoundrels enough to do such a trick. However,
+I can’t help you, even though I have to lose my life for my ignorance.
+I honestly don’t know the right signature for Brewster’s tonight.
+That information doesn’t belong to the engineering department,
+anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>“Shall I pull the trigger, Black?” asked the man who held the
+weapon to Reade’s head.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; if he doesn’t soon come to his senses,” snarled Black.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve already told you,” persisted Tom, “that I couldn’t give
+you the proper signature, even if I wanted to—-which I don’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“You may be glad to talk before we’re through with you tonight,”
+threatened Black. “The time for trifling is past. Either give
+us that signature or else prepare to take the consequences. For
+the last time, are you going to answer my question?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve told you the truth,” Reade insisted. “If you won’t believe
+me, then there is nothing more to be said.”</p>
+
+<p>“You lie, if you insist that you don’t know the signatures for
+tonight!” cried Black savagely.</p>
+
+<p>“All right, then,” sighed Tom. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”</p>
+
+<p>From off in the distance came the shrill too-oo-oot! of a locomotive.
+Tom Reade heard, and, despite his fears for his safety, an exclamation
+of joy escaped him.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you needn’t build any false hopes,” sneered Black. “That
+whistle doesn’t come from the through train. It’s one of the
+locomotives that the S.B. &amp; L. had delivered over the D.V. &amp; S.,
+which makes a junction with your road at Lineville. A locomotive
+or a train at the Lineville end won’t help your crowd any. That
+isn’t the through train required by the charter. The S.B. &amp; L.
+loses the game, just the same.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” Tom argued. “The S.B. &amp; L. road was finished
+within charter time. No railroad can get a train through if the
+opposition sends out men to dynamite the tracks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” jeered Black maliciously. “That dynamited roadbed won’t
+save your crowd. The opposition can make it plain enough that
+your crowd dynamited its own roadbed through a well-founded fear
+that the tracks clear through weren’t strong enough to stand the
+passing of a train. Don’t be afraid, Reader the enemies of your
+road will know how to explain the dynamiting this side of Brewster’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a question for tomorrow, Black,” rejoined Tom Reade.
+“No man can ever tell, today, what tomorrow will bring forth.”</p>
+
+<p>Too-oo-oot! sounded a locomotive whistle again. One of the men
+in the thicket threw himself to the ground, pressing his ear to
+the earth.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a train, or a locomotive, at least, coming this way from
+Lineville, boss,” reported the fellow.</p>
+
+<p>“A train?” gasped Black. Then his face cleared. “Oh, well, even
+if it’s a fully equipped wrecking train, it can’t get the road
+mended in time to bring the through train in before midnight,
+as the charter demands.”</p>
+
+<p>Now the train from Lineville came closer, and the whirr of its
+approach was audible along the steel rails. The engine’s bell
+was clanging steadily, too, after the manner of the engines of
+“specials.”</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black crowded to the outer edge of the thicket, peering
+through intently. The bright headlight of an approaching locomotive
+soon penetrated this part of the forest. Then the train rolled
+swiftly by.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” muttered Black. “Only an engine, a baggage car and one
+day coach. That kind of train can’t carry much in the way of
+relief.”</p>
+
+<p>As the train passed out of sight the engine sent back a screeching
+whistle.</p>
+
+<p>“The engineer is laughing at you, Black,” jeered Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Let him,” sneered the other. “I have the good fortune to know
+where the laugh belongs.”</p>
+
+<p>Toot! toot! too-oot-oot! Something else was coming down the track
+from Lineville. Then it passed the beholders in the thicket—-a full
+train of engine and seven cars.</p>
+
+<p>“Good old Harry Hazelton!” glowed Tom Reade. “I’ll wager that
+was Harry’s thought—-a pilot ahead, and then the real train!”</p>
+
+<p>“Small good it will do,” laughed ’Gene Black disagreeably.</p>
+
+<p>Then, a new thought striking him, he added:</p>
+
+<p>“Bill Hoskins, you and some of the men get the dynamite under
+the track opposite here. You know how to do it! Hustle!”</p>
+
+<p>“You bet I know how,” growled Bill eagerly, as he stepped forward,
+picking out the fellows he wanted as his helpers. “I’ll have
+the blast against the roadbed here ready in five minutes, Black.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, you’ll have three trains stalled along the line tonight,
+Cub Reade,” laughed Black sneeringly. “Getting any train as
+far as this won’t count for a copper’s worth! Your road has
+to get a through train all the way into Lineville before midnight.
+We’ll blow out the roadbed here, and then where are you?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV<br><span class="small">CONCLUSION</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>At these words even the brief hope that had been in Tom Reade’s
+mind, died out.</p>
+
+<p>With the roadbed gone at this point also, he did not see the slightest
+chance for the S.B. &amp; L. to save its charter or its property rights.</p>
+
+<p>“Here’s the racketty stuff,” went on Hoskins, indicating the boxes.
+“That small box has the fuses. Get the stuff along, and I’ll lay
+the magneto wire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not quite so hastily!” sternly broke in a new voice.</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade fairly yelled for joy, for the new speaker, as he knew
+at the first sound, was Dave Fulsbee.</p>
+
+<p>The amazed and dismayed scoundrels huddled closer together for a
+moment in the middle of the thicket.</p>
+
+<p>“Spread, men! Don’t let one of ’em get out alive!” sounded Dave
+Fulsbee’s voice.</p>
+
+<p>The scurrying steps of Fulsbee’s men could be heard apparently
+surrounding the thicket.</p>
+
+<p>With an exclamation of rage, Black made a dash for freedom.</p>
+
+<p>“Stand where you are, Black, if you want to live!” warned Dave.
+“No use to make a kick you rascals! We’ve got you covered, and
+the first man who makes a move will eat his breakfast in another
+world. Now, listen to me. One at a time you fellows step up
+to me, drop your weapons on the ground, where I can see you do
+it, and then come out here, one at a time. No tricks—-for, remember,
+you are covered by my men out here. We don’t want to shoot the
+whole lot of you up unless we have to, but we won’t stand for
+any fooling. Reade, you come through first. Any man who offers
+to hinder Mr. Reade will be sorry he took the trouble—-that’s
+all!”</p>
+
+<p>His heart bounding with joy, Tom stepped through the thicket,
+going straight toward the sound of Fulsbee’s voice.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve got a knife in my left hand,” announced Fulsbee, as Tom
+neared him in the dark. “Turn around so that I can cut the cords
+at your wrists.”</p>
+
+<p>In a moment this was done.</p>
+
+<p>“You might stay here and help me,” whispered Dave. Tom nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Black, you can be the first,” called Dave in a brisk,
+business-like tone. “Step up here and drop your weapons on the ground.”</p>
+
+<p>Wincing under a bitter sense of defeat, ’Gene Black stepped forward.
+He was not really a coward, but he valued his life, little as it was
+actually worth. So he dropped a revolver to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“What I have to say to you, Black, applies to the others,” Dave
+continued from outside the thicket. “If any man among you doesn’t drop
+all his weapons, we’ll make it lively for him when we get him out here.”</p>
+
+<p>A look of malignant hate crossed his face, then ’Gene Black dropped
+also a knife to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“Come on out, Black,” directed Dave Fulsbee. “Mr. Reade, will
+you oblige me by running your hands over the fellow’s clothing
+to see if he, has any more weapons.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom promptly complied. A hasty search revealed no other weapons.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, step right along over there, Black, where you’ll find two
+of my men,” nodded Dave Fulsbee.</p>
+
+<p>Again Black obeyed. He saw, dimly, two men some yards further
+away in the darkness and joined them.</p>
+
+<p>Click-click! Then the scoundrel cried out in the bitterness of
+his rage, for the two railway detectives had handcuffed him.</p>
+
+<p>“You, with the black hair, next,” summoned Fulsbee, his vision
+aided by the lantern in the centre of the thicket. “You come
+here, but first stop and drop your weapons on the pile—-all the
+trouble-makers you happen to have.”</p>
+
+<p>Thus they came, one at a time, the operator being the last of
+all. The crowd of prisoners under guard of the two railway detectives
+grew steadily, and each was handcuffed as he reached the detectives
+after having been searched by Tom Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Good job,” nodded Dave coolly, as he am approached the captives.
+“Now, we have you all under lock and key. My, but you’re a
+pretty-looking outfit!”</p>
+
+<p>“Come on, men. March ’em up the track. Then we’ll come back,
+or send someone else after the dynamite and other stuff. That’ll
+be handy as evidence.”</p>
+
+<p>Guarded by Fulsbee and his two detectives, the prisoners marched
+along a few rods.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade,” called Dave, pointing, “you’ll find your horse tied
+to that tree yonder. I reckon you’ll be glad to get in saddle
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, Tom was glad. He ran over, untying the animal, which
+uttered a whinny of recognition. In saddle, Tom joined the marching
+party.</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t seem to think us a very hard crowd to guard,” remarked
+’Gene Black curiously. “Why don’t you call off the men you posted
+around the thickets”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t post any,” Fulsbee answered simply. “I sent these two
+men of mine running around the thicket. Then they had to come
+together and attend to handcuffing you fellows.”</p>
+
+<p>“And were you the only man who had the drop on us?” gasped ’Gene
+Black.</p>
+
+<p>“I was,” Dave Fulsbee responded. “If you fellows hadn’t had such
+bad nerves, you could have escaped. But it’s an old story. When
+men go bad their nerves go bad with them.”</p>
+
+<p>As for Black’s followers, now that they knew the nature of the
+trick that had fooled them, several of them hung back.</p>
+
+<p>“You fellows needn’t think you can balk now,” observed Fulsbee
+grimly. “You’re all of you handcuffed, and there are enough of
+us to handle you. I promise you that, if anyone of you tries
+to run away, I won’t run after him until I’ve first tried dropping
+him with a shot.”</p>
+
+<p>So the party proceeded, and in time reached Lineville. There
+was great excitement in that little junction town when the citizens
+first heard of the dastardly work that the prisoners had attempted.</p>
+
+<p>Dave marched his captives into the waiting room of the station.
+All outsiders were ushered forth politely. Mr. Newnham was hurriedly
+summoned, and to him Tom Reade disclosed what he had learned of
+the work of enemies along the line. Naturally the president of
+the S.B. &amp; L. was greatly excited.</p>
+
+<p>“We knew something was wrong, from the nature of the telegraph
+messages that came in,” cried Mr. Newnham. “It was your friend,
+Hazelton, who first suggested the idea of sending a full train
+down the line, with a short pilot train ahead.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good, great old Harry!” murmured Tom admiringly.</p>
+
+<p>Both Fulsbee and the president of the road tried to question ’Gene
+Black. That treacherous fellow, however, steadfastly refused
+to talk. Two or three of his gang were willing enough to talk,
+but they knew little, as Black had carried all his plans and schemes
+in his own head.</p>
+
+<p>“No matter!” muttered Dave Fulsbee. “My two men and I were close
+to that thicket for some time before we broke in on the affair.
+We heard enough to supply all the evidence that the courts will
+want against these worthies.”</p>
+
+<p>As the futile questioning was drawing to a close, ’Gene Black
+suddenly roused himself to say sneeringly:</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen, look at your station clock. It’s fifteen minutes
+before midnight. A quarter of an hour left! Where’s your through
+train? If it reaches here fifteen minutes from now it will be
+too late.”</p>
+
+<p>“Send a message down the line quickly,” gasped Mr. Newnham, turning
+pale. Then he wheeled savagely upon the prisoner, exclaiming:
+“I forgot, Black. You rascals cut the wires. We could have
+mended them at the nearer point, but the wires were cut, too,
+at the scene of the blow-out. Oh, but you have been a thorn in
+our sides!”</p>
+
+<p>From the crowd that still lingered outside came a cheer. Tom
+Reade sprang to the nearest door, throwing it open.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen!” he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>The sound that had started the crowd to cheering was repeated
+again.</p>
+
+<p>_Too-oo-oo-oot_!</p>
+
+<p>“It’s the train!” cried Reade joyously. “It can’t be more than
+two or three miles below here, either. It will get through on
+time!”</p>
+
+<p>With nine minutes to spare, the train rolled into the station
+at Lineville. It was not the same train that had left Stormburg,
+for that train had been halted, safely, just before reaching the
+scene of the disastrous blow-out. At that point the passengers
+had alighted and had been conducted on foot to the other side
+of the gap caused by the explosion. Here Hazelton’s Lineville
+special stood ready to convey them into Lineville. So the road
+had been legally opened, since the passengers from Stormburg—-among
+whom was the lieutenant governor of the state had been brought
+all the way through over the line. Within the meaning of the
+law a through train had been operated over the new line, and within
+charter time.</p>
+
+<p>The S.B. &amp; L. had won! It had saved its charter. On the morrow,
+in Wall Street, the value of the road’s stock jumped by some millions
+of dollars.</p>
+
+<p>Let us not forget the pilot train. That returned to Lineville
+in the rear of the passenger train. Though the pilot train had
+a conductor, Harry Hazelton was in real charge.</p>
+
+<p>“Look whom we have here, Tom!” called Harry from the open side
+door of the baggage car, as Reade raced up to greet his successful
+chum.</p>
+
+<p>A man, bandaged, injured and groaning, lay on the floor of the
+baggage car.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, it’s Naughty Peter, himself!” cried Tom. “Peter, I’m sorry
+to find you in this shape. I am afraid you have been misbehaving.”</p>
+
+<p>“We found him not far from the track, near the blow-out,” Hazelton
+explained. “Whether he attended to that bit of bad work all alone,
+or whether his companions believed him dead and fled for their
+own safety, I can’t learn. Bad Pete won’t say a word. He was
+unconscious when we first discovered him. Now he knows what’s
+going on around him, but he’s too badly hurt to do more than hold
+his tongue.”</p>
+
+<p>It was only when Bad Pete recovered his health—-in jail—-and
+found himself facing a long term in prison, that he was ready
+to open his mouth. He could tell nothing, however, beyond confessing
+that he and three other men, including an operator, had attended
+to the blow-out. Pete had no knowledge of the real parties behind
+the plot. He knew only that he had acted under ’Gene Blanks orders.
+So Bad Pete was shown no mercy, but sent behind the bars for
+a term of twenty-five years. Owing to Black’s stubborn silence
+the outrages were never traced back to any official of the W.C.
+&amp; A.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black was sentenced to prison for thirty years. The other
+rascals, who had worked under his direction, all received long
+terms.</p>
+
+<p>The student engineers, wholly happy and well paid, returned to
+their college.</p>
+
+<p>The S.B. &amp; L. is still under the same management, and is one of
+the prosperous independent railroads of the United States. Dave
+Fulsbee continues as the head of its detective system.</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton had made good in their first professional
+undertaking. They were paid in proportion to their services, and
+given the opportunity to retain their positions at the head of the
+railway’s engineering corps.</p>
+
+<p>For some time they kept their positions, filling them always with
+honor. Yet, in the end, the desire to do other great things in
+their chosen profession led them into other fields of venture.
+Their greatest adventures, their severest trials and deepest
+problems, as well as their gravest perils were still ahead of them
+in their path of duty.</p>
+
+<p>The Young Engineers were bound to go on and up, yet their way
+was sure to be a stormy one.</p>
+
+<p>We shall meet these fine young Americans again in the next volume
+of this series, which is published under the title, “The Young
+Engineers in Arizona; Or, Laying Tracks on the Man-killer Quicksand.”
+It is a rousing narrative of real people and real happenings.
+</p>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12734 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #12734 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12734)
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Young Engineers in Colorado; Or, At
+Railroad Building in Earnest, by H. Irving Hancock
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Young Engineers in Colorado; Or, At
+Railroad Building in Earnest
+
+Author: H. Irving Hancock
+
+Release Date: June 25, 2004 [eBook #12734]
+Last Updated: October 27, 2023
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Jim Ludwig
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN
+COLORADO; OR, AT RAILROAD BUILDING IN EARNEST ***
+
+
+
+
+The Young Engineers in Colorado
+
+or, At Railwood Building in Earnest
+
+By H. Irving Hancock
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTERS
+ I. The Cub Engineers Reach Camp
+ II. Bad Pete Becomes Worse
+ III. The Day of Real Work Dawns
+ IV. “Trying Out” the Gridley Boys
+ V. Tom Doesn’t Mind “Artillery”
+ VI. The Bite from the Bush
+ VII. What a Squaw Knew
+ VIII. ’Gene Black, Trouble-Maker
+ IX. “Doctored” Field Notes?
+ X. Things Begin to go Down Hill
+ XI. The Chief Totters from Command
+ XII. From Cub to Acting Chief
+ XIII. Black Turns Other Colors
+ XIV. Bad Pete Mixes in Some
+ XV. Black’s Plot Opens With a Bang
+ XVI. Shut Off from the World
+ XVII. The Real Attack Begins
+XVIII. When the Camp Grew Warm
+ XIX. Sheriff Grease Drops Dave
+ XX. Mr. Newnham Drops a Bomb
+ XXI. The Trap at the Finish
+ XXII. “Can Your Road Save Its Charter Now?”
+XXIII. Black’s Trump Card
+ XXIV. Conclusion
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE CUB ENGINEERS REACH CAMP
+
+
+“Look, Tom! There is a real westerner!” Harry Hazelton’s eyes
+sparkled, his whole manner was one of intense interest.
+
+“Eh?” queried Tom Reade, turning around from his distant view
+of a sharp, towering peak of the Rockies.
+
+“There’s the real thing in the way of a westerner,” Harry Hazelton
+insisted in a voice in which there was some awe.
+
+“I don’t believe he is,” retorted Tom skeptically.
+
+“You’re going to say, I suppose, that the man is just some freak
+escaped from the pages of a dime novel?” demanded Harry.
+
+“No; he looks more like a hostler on a leave of absence from a
+stranded Wild West show,” Tom replied slowly.
+
+There was plenty of time for them to inspect the stranger in question.
+Tom and Harry were seated on a mountain springboard wagon drawn
+by a pair of thin horses. Their driver, a boy of about eighteen,
+sat on a tiny make-believe seat almost over the traces. This
+youthful driver had been minding his own business so assiduously
+during the past three hours that Harry had voted him a sullen
+fellow. This however, the driver was not.
+
+“Where did that party ahead come from, driver?” murmured Tom,
+leaning forward. “Boston or Binghamton?”
+
+“You mean the party ahead at the bend of the trail?” asked the
+driver.
+
+“Yes; he’s the only stranger in sight.”
+
+“I guess he’s a westerner, all right,” answered the driver, after
+a moment or two spent in thought.
+
+“There! You see?” crowed Harry Hazelton triumphantly.
+
+“If that fellow’s a westerner, driver,” Tom persisted, “have you
+any idea how many days he has been west?”
+
+“He doesn’t belong to this state,” the youthful driver answered.
+“I think he comes from Montana. His name is Bad Pete.”
+
+“Pete?” mused Tom Reade aloud. “That’s short for Peter, I suppose;
+not a very interesting or romantic name. What’s the hind-leg
+of his name?”
+
+“Meaning his surnames” drawled the driver.
+
+“Yes; to be sure.”
+
+“I don’t know that he has any surname, friend,” the Colorado boy
+rejoined.
+
+“Why do they call him ‘Bad’?” asked Harry, with a thrill of pleasurable
+expectation.
+
+As the driver was slow in finding an answer, Tom Reade, after
+another look at the picturesque stranger, replied quizzically:
+
+“I reckon they call him bad because he’s counterfeit.”
+
+“There you go again,” remonstrated Harry Hazelton. “You’d better
+be careful, or Bad Pete will hear you.”
+
+“I hope he doesn’t,” smiled Tom. “I don’t want to change Bad
+Pete into Worse Pete.”
+
+There was little danger, however, that the picturesque-looking
+stranger would hear them. The axles and springs of the springboard
+wagon were making noise enough to keep their voices from reaching
+the ears of any human being more than a dozen feet away.
+
+Bad Pete was still about two hundred and fifty feet ahead, nor
+did he, as yet, give any sign whatever of having noted the vehicle.
+Instead, he was leaning against a boulder at the turn in the
+road. In his left hand he held a hand-rolled cigarette from which
+he took an occasional reflective puff as he looked straight ahead
+of him as though he were enjoying the scenery. The road---trail---ran
+close along the edge of a sloping precipice. Fully nine hundred
+feet below ran a thin line of silver, or so it appeared. In reality
+it was what was left of the Snake River now, in July, nearly dried
+out.
+
+Over beyond the gulch, for a mile or more, extended a rather flat,
+rock-strewn valley. Beyond that were the mountains, two peaks
+of which, even at this season, were white-capped with snow. On
+the trail, however, the full heat of summer prevailed.
+
+“This grand, massive scenery makes a human being feel small, doesn’t
+it?” asked Tom.
+
+Harry, however, had his eyes and all his thoughts turned toward
+the man whom they were nearing.
+
+“This---er---Bad Pete isn’t an---er---that is, a road agent, is
+he?” he asked apprehensively.
+
+“He may be, for all I know,” the driver answered. “At present
+he mostly hangs out around the S.B. & L. outfit.”
+
+“Why, that’s our outfits---the one we’re going to join, I mean,”
+cried Hazelton.
+
+“I hope Pete isn’t the cook, then,” remarked Tom fastidiously.
+“He doesn’t look as though he takes a very kindly interest in
+soap.”
+
+“Sh-h-h!” begged Harry. “I’ll tell you, he’ll hear you.”
+
+“See here,” Tom went on, this time addressing the driver, “you’ve
+told us that you don’t know just where to find the S.B. & L. field
+camp. If Mr. Peter Bad hangs out with the camp then he ought
+to be able to direct us.”
+
+“You can ask him, of course,” nodded the Colorado boy.
+
+Soon after the horses covered the distance needed to bring them
+close to the bend. Now the driver hauled in his team, and, blocking
+the forward wheels with a fragment of rock, began to give his
+attention to the harness.
+
+Bad Pete had consented to glance their way at last. He turned
+his head indolently, emitting a mouthful of smoke. As if by instinct
+his right hand dropped to the butt of a revolver swinging in a
+holster over his right hip.
+
+“I hope he isn’t bad tempered today!” shivered Harry under his
+breath.
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir,” galled Tom, “but can you tell us-----”
+
+“Who are ye looking at?” demanded Bad Pete, scowling.
+
+“At a polished man of the world, I’m sure,” replied Reade smilingly.
+“As I was saying, can you tell us just where we can find the
+S.B. & L.’s field camp of engineers?”
+
+“What d’ye want of the camp?” growled Pete, after taking another
+whiff from his cigarette.
+
+“Why, our reasons for wanting to find the camp are purely personal,”
+Tom continued.
+
+“Now, tenderfoot, don’t get fresh with me,” warned Pete sullenly.
+
+“I haven’t an idea of that sort in the world, sir,” Tom assured
+him. “Do you happen to know the hiding-place of the camp?”
+
+“What do you want of the camp?” insisted Pete.
+
+“Well, sir, since you’re so determined to protect the camp from
+questionable strangers,” Tom continued, “I don’t know that it
+will do any harm to inform you that we are two greenhorns---tenderfeet,
+I believe, is your more elegant word---who have been engaged to
+join the engineers’ crowd and break in at the business.”
+
+“Cub engineers, eh, tenderfoot?”
+
+“That’s the full size of our pretensions, sir,” Tom admitted.
+
+“Rich men’s sons, coming out to learn the ways of the Rookies?”
+questioned Bad Pete, showing his first sign of interest in them.
+
+“Not quite as bad as that,” Tom Reade urged. “We’re wholly respectable,
+sir. We have even had to work hard in order to raise money for
+our railway fare out to Colorado.”
+
+Bad Pete’s look of interest in them faded.
+
+“Huh!” he remarked. “Then you’re no good either why.”
+
+“That’s true, I’m afraid,” sighed Tom. “However, can you tell
+us the way to the camp?”
+
+From one pocket Bad Pete produced a cigarette paper and from another
+tobacco. Slowly he rolled and lighted a cigarette, in the meantime
+seeming hardly aware of the existence of the tenderfeet. At last,
+however, he turned to the Colorado boy and observed:
+
+“Pardner, I reckon you’d better drive on with these tenderfeet
+before I drop them over the cliff. They spoil the view. Ye know
+where Bandy’s Gulch is?”
+
+“Sure,” nodded the Colorado boy.
+
+“Ye’ll find the railroad outfit jest about a mile west o’ there,
+camped close to the main trail.”
+
+“I’m sure obliged to you,” nodded the Colorado boy, stepping up
+to his seat and gathering in the reins.
+
+“And so are we, sir,” added Tom politely.
+
+“Hold your blizzard in until I ask ye to talk,” retorted Bad Pete
+haughtily. “Drive on with your cheap baggage, pardner.”
+
+“Cheap baggage, are we?” mused Tom, when the wagon had left Bad
+Pete some two hundred feet to the rear. “My, but I feel properly
+humiliated!”
+
+“How many men has Bad Pete killed?” inquired Harry in an awed
+voice.
+
+“Don’t know as he ever killed any,” replied the Colorado boy,
+“but I’m not looking for trouble with any man that always carries
+a revolver at his belt and goes around looking for someone to
+give him an excuse to shoot. The pistol might go off, even by
+accident.”
+
+“Are there many like Mr. Peter Bad in these hills nowadays?” Tom
+inquired.
+
+“You’ll find the foothills back near Denver or Pueblo,” replied
+the Colorado youth coldly “You’re up in the mountains now.”
+
+“Well, are there many like Peter Bad in these mountains?” Tom
+amended.
+
+“Not many,” admitted their driver. “The old breed is passing.
+You see, in these days, we have the railroad, public schools,
+newspapers, the telegraph, electric light, courts and the other
+things that go with civilization.”
+
+“The old days of romance are going by,” sighed Harry Hazelton.
+
+“Do you call murder romantic?” Reade demanded. “Harry, you came
+west expecting to find the Colorado of the dime novels. Now we’ve
+traveled hundreds of miles across this state, and Mr. Bad wore
+the first revolver that we’ve seen since we crossed the state
+line. My private opinion is that Peter would be afraid to handle
+his pistol recklessly for fear it would go off.”
+
+“I wouldn’t bank on that,” advised the young driver, shaking his
+head.
+
+“But you don’t carry a revolver,” retorted Tom Reade.
+
+“Pop would wallop me, if I did,” grinned the Colorado boy. “But
+then, I don’t need firearms. I know enough to carry a civil tongue,
+and to be quiet when I ought to.”
+
+“I suppose people who don’t possess those virtues are the only
+people that have excuse for carrying a pistol around with their
+keys, loose change and toothbrushes,” affirmed Reade. “Harry,
+the longer you stay west the more people you’ll find who’ll tell
+you that toting a pistol is a silly, trouble-breeding habit.”
+
+They drove along for another hour before a clattering sounded
+behind them.
+
+“I believe it’s Bad Pete coming,” declared Harry, as he made out,
+a quarter of a mile behind them, the form of a man mounted on
+a small, wiry mustang.
+
+“Yep; it is,” nodded the Colorado boy, after a look back.
+
+The trail being wider here Bad Pete whirled by them with a swift
+drumming of his pony’s hoofs. In a few moments more he was out
+of sight.
+
+“Tom, you may have your doubts about that fellow,” Hazelton remarked,
+“but there’s one thing he can do---ride!”
+
+“Humph! Anyone can ride that knows enough to get into a saddle
+and stick there,” observed the Colorado boy dryly.
+
+Readers of the “_Grammar School Boys Series_” and of the “_High School
+Boys Series_”, have already recognized in Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton
+two famous schoolboy athletes.
+
+Back in old Gridley there had once been a schoolboy crowd of six,
+known as Dick & Co. Under the leadership of Dick Prescott, these
+boys had made their start in athletics in the Central Grammar
+School, winning no small amount of fame as junior schoolboy athletes.
+
+Then in their High School days Dick & Co. had gradually made
+themselves crack athletes. Baseball and football were their especial
+sports, and in these they had reached a degree of skill that had
+made many a college trainer anxious to obtain them.
+
+None of the six, however, had gone to college. Dick Prescott
+and Greg Holmes had secured appointments as cadets at the United
+States Military Academy, at West Point. Their adventures are
+told in the “_West Point Series_.” Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell,
+feeling the call to the Navy, had entered the United States Naval
+Academy at Annapolis. Their further doings are all described
+in the “_Annapolis Series_.”
+
+Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, however, had found that their aspirations
+pointed to the great constructive work that is done by the big-minded,
+resourceful American civil engineer of today. Bridge building,
+railroad building, the tunneling of mines---in a word, the building
+of any of the great works of industry possessed a huge fascination
+for them.
+
+Tom was good-natured and practical, Harry at times full of mischief
+and at others dreamy, but both longed with all their souls to
+place themselves some day in the front ranks among civil engineers.
+
+At high school they had given especial study to mathematics.
+At home they had studied engineering, through correspondence courses
+and otherwise. During more than the last year of their home life
+our two boys had worked much in the offices of a local civil engineer,
+and had spent part of their school vacations afield with him.
+
+Finally, after graduating from school both boys had gone to New
+York in order to look the world over. By dint of sheer push,
+three-quarters of which Tom had supplied, the boys had secured
+their first chance in the New York offices of the S.B. & L. Not
+much of a chance, to be sure, but it meant forty dollars a month
+and board in the field, with the added promise that, if they turned
+out to be “no good,” they would be promptly “bounced.”
+
+“If ‘bounced’ we are,” Tom remarked dryly, “we’ll have to walk
+home, for our money will just barely take us to Colorado.”
+
+So here they were, having come by rail to a town some distance
+west of Pueblo. From the last railway station they had been obliged
+to make thirty miles or more by wagon to the mountain field camp
+of the S.B. & L.
+
+Since daybreak they had been on the way, eating breakfast and
+lunch from the paper parcels that they had brought with them.
+
+“How much farther is the camp, now that you know the way.” Reade
+inquired an hour after Bad Pete had vanished on horseback.
+
+“There it is, right down there,” answered the Colorado youth,
+pointing with his whip as the raw-boned team hauled the wagon
+to the top of a rise in the trail.
+
+Of the trail to the left, surrounded by natural walls of rock,
+was an irregularly shaped field about three or four acres in extent.
+Here and there wisps of grass grew, but the ground, for the most
+part, was covered by splinters of rock or of sand ground from
+the same.
+
+At the farther end of the camp stood a small wooden building,
+with three tents near try. At a greater distance were several
+other tents. Three wagons stood at one side of the camp, though
+horses or mules for the same were not visible. Outside, near
+the door of one tent, stood a transit partially concealed by the
+enveloping rubber cover. Near another tent stood a plane table,
+used in field platting (drawing). Signs of life about the camp
+there were none, save for the presence of the newcomers.
+
+“I wonder if there’s anyone at home keeping house,” mused Tom
+Reade, as he jumped down from the wagon.
+
+“There’s only one wooden house in this town. That must be where
+the boss lives,” declared Harry.
+
+“Yes; that’s where the boss lives,” replied the Colorado youth,
+with a wry smile.
+
+“Let’s go over and see whether he has time to talk to us,” suggested
+Reade.
+
+“Just one minute, gentlemen,” interposed the driver. “Where do
+you want your kit boxes placed? Are you going to pay me now?”
+
+“Drop the kit boxes on the ground anywhere,” Tom answered. “We’re
+strong enough to carry ’em when we find where they belong.”
+
+“And---yes: we are going to pay you now. Eighteen dollars, isn’t it?”
+
+“Yes,” replied the young driver, with the brevity of the mountaineer.
+
+Tom and Harry went into their pockets, each producing nine dollars
+as his share of the fare. This was handed over to the Colorado
+youth.
+
+“’Bliged to you, gentlemen,” nodded the Colorado boy pocketing
+the money. “Anything more to say to me?”
+
+“Nothing remains to be said, except to thank you, and to wish
+you good luck on your way back,” said Reade.
+
+“I wish you luck here, too, gentlemen. Good day.”
+
+With that, the driver mounted his seat, turned the horses about
+and was off without once looking back.
+
+“Now let’s go over to the house and see the boss,” murmured Tom.
+
+Together the chums skirted the camp, going up to the wooden building.
+As the door was open, Tom, with a sense of good manners, approached
+from the side that he might not appear to be peeping in on the
+occupants of the building. Gaining the side of the doorway, with
+Harry just behind him, Reade knocked softly.
+
+“Quit yer kidding, whoever it is, and come in,” called a rough
+voice.
+
+Tom thereupon stepped inside. What he saw filled him with surprise.
+Around the room were three or four tables. There were many utensils
+hanging on the walls. There were two stoves, with a man bending
+over one of them and stirring something in a pot.
+
+“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Tom. “I thought I’d find Mr. Timothy
+Thurston, the chief engineer, here.”
+
+“Nope,” replied a stout, red-faced man of forty, in flannel shirt
+and khaki trousers. “Mr. Thurston never eats between meals, and
+when he does eat he’s served in his own mess tent. Whatcher want
+here, pardner?”
+
+“We’re under orders to report to him,” Tom answered politely.
+
+“New men in the chain gang?” asked the cook, swinging around to
+look at the newcomers.
+
+“Maybe,” Reade assented. “That will depend on the opinion that
+Mr. Thurston forms of us after he knows us a little while. I
+believe the man in New York said we were to be assistant engineers.”
+
+“There’s only one assistant engineer here,” announced the cook.
+“The other engineers are Just plain surveyors or levelers.”
+
+“Well, we won’t quarrel about titles,” Tom smilingly assured the
+cook. “Will you please tell us where Mr. Thurston is?”
+
+“He’s in his tent over yonder,” said the cook, pointing through
+the open doorway.
+
+“Shall we step over there and announce ourselves?” Tom inquired.
+
+“Why, ye could do it,” rejoined the red-faced cook, with a grin.
+“If Tim Thurston happens to be very busy he might use plain talk
+and tell you to git out of camp.”
+
+“Then do you mind telling us just how we should approach the chief
+engineer?”
+
+“Whatter yer names?”
+
+“Reade and Hazelton.”
+
+“Bob, trot over and tell Thurston there’s two fellows here, named
+Reade and Hazelnut. Ask him what he wants done with ’em.”
+
+The cook’s helper, who, so far, had not favored the new arrivals
+with a glance, now turned and looked them over. Then, with a
+nod, the helper stepped across the ground to the largest tent
+in camp. In a few moments he came back.
+
+“Mr. Thurston says to stay around and he’ll call you jest as soon
+as he’s through with what he’s doing,” announced Bob, who, dark,
+thin and anemic, was a decrepit-looking man of fifty years or
+thereabouts.
+
+“Ye can stand about in the open,” added the cook, pointing with
+his ladle. “There’s better air out there.”
+
+“Thank you,” answered Tom briskly, but politely. Once outside,
+and strolling slowly along, Reade confided to his chum:
+
+“Harry, you can see what big fellows we two youngsters are going
+to be in a Rocky Mountain railroad camp. We haven’t a blessed
+thing to do but play marbles until the chief can see us.”
+
+“I can spare the time, if the chief can,” laughed Harry. “Hello---look
+who’s here!”
+
+Bad Pete, now on foot, had turned into the camp from the farther
+side. Espying the boys he swaggered over toward them.
+
+“How do you do, sir?” nodded Tom.
+
+“Can’t you two tenderfeet mind your own business?” snarled Pete,
+halting and scowling angrily at them.
+
+“Now, I come to think of it,” admitted Tom, “it _was_ meddlesome
+on my part to ask after your health. I beg your pardon.”
+
+“Say, are you two tenderfeet trying to git fresh with me?” demanded
+Bad Pete, drawing himself up to his full height and gazing at
+them out of flashing eyes.
+
+Almost unconsciously Tom Reade drew himself up, showing hints
+of his athletic figure through the folds of his clothing.
+
+“No, Peter,” he said quietly. “In the first place, my friend
+hasn’t even opened his mouth. As for myself, when I _do_ try
+to get fresh with you, you won’t have to do any guessing. You’ll
+be sure of it.”
+
+Bad Pete took a step forward, dropping his right hand, as though
+unconsciously, to the butt of the revolver in the holster. He
+fixed his burning gaze savagely on the boy’s face as he muttered,
+in a low, ugly voice:
+
+“Tenderfoot, when I’m around after this you shut your mouth and
+keep it shut! You needn’t take the trouble to call me Peter again,
+either. My name is Bad Pete, and I am bad. I’m poison! Understand?
+Poison!”
+
+“Poison?” repeated Tom dryly, coolly. “No; I don’t believe I’d
+call you that. I think I’d call you a bluff---and let it go at
+that.”
+
+Bad Pete scowled angrily. Again his hand slid to the butt of
+his revolver, then with a muttered imprecation he turned and stalked
+away, calling back threateningly over his shoulder:
+
+“Remember, tenderfoot. Keep out of my way.”
+
+Behind the boys, halted a man who had just stepped into the camp
+over the natural stone wall. This man was a sun-browned, smooth-faced,
+pleasant-featured man of perhaps thirty-two or thirty-three years.
+Dressed in khaki trousers, with blue flannel shirt, sombrero
+and well-worn puttee leggings, he might have been mistaken for
+a soldier. Though his eyes were pleasant to look at, there was
+an expression of great shrewdness in them. The lines around his
+mouth bespoke the man’s firmness. He was about five-feet-eight
+in height, slim and had the general bearing of a strong man accustomed
+to hard work.
+
+“Boys,” he began in a low voice, whereat both Tom and Harry faced
+swiftly about, “you shouldn’t rile Bad Pete that way. He’s an
+ugly character, who carries all he knows of law in his holsters,
+and we’re a long way from the sheriff’s officers.”
+
+“Is he really bad?” asked Tom innocently.
+
+“Really bad?” laughed the man in khaki. “You’ll find out if you
+try to cross him. Are you visiting the camp?”
+
+“Reade! Hazelton!” called a voice brusquely from the big tent.
+
+“That’s Mr. Thurston calling us, I guess,” said Tom quickly.
+“We’ll have to excuse ourselves and go and report to him.”
+
+“Yes, that was Thurston,” nodded the slim man. “And I’m Blaisdell,
+the assistant engineer. I’ll go along with you.”
+
+Throwing aside the canvas flap, Mr. Blaisdell led the boys inside
+the big tent. At one end a portion of the tent was curtained
+off, and this was presumably the chief engineer’s bedroom. Near
+the centre of the tent was a flat table about six by ten feet.
+Just at present it held many drawings, all arranged in orderly
+piles. Not far from the big table was a smaller one on which
+a typewriting machine rested.
+
+The man who sat at the large table, and who wheeled about in a
+revolving chair as Tom and Harry entered, was perhaps forty-five
+years of age. His head was covered with a mass of bushy black
+hair. His face was as swarthy, in its clean-shaven condition,
+as though the owner had spent all of his life under a hot sun.
+His clothing like that of all the rest of the engineers in camp
+was of khaki, his shirt of blue flannel, with a long, flowing
+black tie.
+
+“Mr. Thurston,” announced the assistant engineer, “I have just
+encountered these young gentlemen, who state that they are under
+orders from the New York offices to report to you for employment.”
+
+Mr. Thurston looked both boys over in silence for a few seconds.
+His keen eyes appeared to take in everything that could possibly
+concern them. Then he rose, extending his hand, first to Reade,
+next to Hazelton.
+
+“From what technical school do you come?” inquired the engineer
+as he resumed his chair.
+
+“From none, sir,” Tom answered promptly “We didn’t have money
+enough for that sort of training.”
+
+Mr. Thurston raised his eyebrows in astonished inquiry.
+
+“Then why,” he asked, “did you come here? What made you think
+that you could break in as engineers?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+BAD PETE BECOMES WORSE
+
+
+Timothy Thurston’s gaze was curious, and his voice a trifle cold.
+Yet he did not by any means treat the boys with contempt. He
+appeared simply to wonder why these young men had traveled so
+far to take up his time.
+
+“We couldn’t afford to take a college course in engineering, sir,”
+Tom Reade continued, reddening slightly. “We have learned all
+that we possibly could in other ways, however.”
+
+“Do you expect me, young men, to detail an experienced engineer
+to move about with you as instructor until you learn enough to
+be of use to us?”
+
+“No, indeed, we don’t, sir,” Tom replied, and perhaps his voice
+was sharper than usual, though it rang with earnestness. “We
+believe, sir, that we are very fair engineers. We are willing
+to be tried out, sir, and to be rated exactly where you find that
+we belong. If necessary we’ll start in as helpers to the chainmen,
+and we have pride enough to walk back over the trail at any moment
+when you decide that we’re no good. We have traveled all the
+way from the east, and I trust, sir, that you’ll give us a fair
+chance to show if we know anything.”
+
+“It won’t take long to find that out,” replied Mr. Thurston gravely.
+“Of course you both understand that we are doing real engineering
+work and haven’t any time to instruct amateurs or be patient with
+them.”
+
+“We don’t want instruction, Mr. Thurston,” Hazelton broke in.
+“We want work, and when we get it we’ll do it.”
+
+“I hope your work will be as good as your assurance,” replied
+the chief engineer, with a slight twinkle in his eyes. “What
+can you do?”
+
+“We know how to do ordinary surveying, sir,” Tom replied quickly.
+“We can run our courses and supervise the chaining. We know
+how to bring in field notes that are of some use. We can do our
+work well within the limits of error allowed by the United States
+Government. We also consider ourselves competent at leveling.
+Give us the profile plan and the notes on an excavation, and we
+can superintend the laborers who have to make an excavation.
+We have a fair knowledge of ordinary road building. We have the
+strength of usual materials at our finger’s ends, and for beginners
+I think we may claim that we are very well up in mathematics.
+We have had some all-around experience. Here is a letter, sir,
+from Price & Conley, of Gridley, in whose offices we have done
+quite a bit of work.”
+
+Mr. Thurston took the letter courteously, though he did not
+immediately glance at it.
+
+“Country surveyors, these gentlemen, I suppose?” he asked, looking
+into Tom’s eyes.
+
+“Yes, sir,” nodded Reade, “though Mr. Price is also the engineer for
+our home county. Both Mr. Price and Mr. Conley paid us the
+compliment of saying that we were well fitted to work in a railway
+engineering camp.”
+
+“Well, we’ll try you out, until you either make good or convince
+us that you can’t,” agreed the chief engineer, without any show
+of enthusiasm. “You may show them where they are to live, Mr.
+Blaisdell, and where they are to mess. In the morning you can
+put these young men at some job or other.”
+
+The words sounded like a dismissal, but Blaisdell lingered a moment.
+
+“Mr. Thurston,” he smiled, “our young men ran, first thing, into
+Bad Pete.”
+
+“Yes?” inquired the chief. “Did Pete show these young men his
+fighting front?”
+
+Blaisdell repeated the dialogue that had taken place between Tom
+and Bad Pete.
+
+The chief listened to his assistant in silence. Tom flushed slightly
+under the penetrating glance Mr. Thurston cast upon him during
+the recital.
+
+When the assistant had finished, the chief merely remarked: “Blaisdell,
+I wish you could get rid of that fellow, Bad Pete. I don’t like
+to have him hanging about the camp. He’s an undesirable character,
+and I’m afraid that some of our men will have trouble with him.
+Can’t you get rid of him?”
+
+“I’ll do it if you say so, Mr. Thurston,” Blaisdell answered quietly.
+
+“How?” inquired his chief.
+
+“I’ll serve out firearms to five or six of the men, and the next
+time Pete shows his face we’ll cover him and march him miles away
+from camp.”
+
+“That wouldn’t do any good,” replied Mr. Thurston, with a shake
+of his head. “Pete would only come back, uglier than before,
+and he’d certainly shoot up some of our men.”
+
+“You asked me, a moment ago, Mr. Thurston, what I could do,” Tom
+broke in. “Give me a little time, and I’ll agree to rid the camp
+of Peter.”
+
+“How?” asked the chief abruptly. “Not with any gun-play! Pete
+would be too quick for you at anything of that sort.”
+
+“I don’t carry a pistol, and don’t wish to do so,” Tom retorted.
+“In my opinion only a coward carries a pistol.”
+
+“Then you think Bad Pete is a coward, young man?” returned the
+chief.
+
+“If driven into a corner I’m pretty sure he’d turn out to be one,
+sir,” Tom went on earnestly. “A coward is a man who’s afraid.
+If a fellow isn’t afraid of anything, then why does he have to
+carry firearms to protect himself?”
+
+“I don’t believe that would quite apply to Pete,” Mr. Thurston
+went on. “Pete doesn’t carry a revolver because he’s afraid of
+anything. He knows that many other men are afraid of pistols,
+and so he carries his firearms about in order that he may enjoy
+himself in playing bully.”
+
+“I can drive him out of camp,” Tom insisted. “All I’ll wait for
+will be your permission to go ahead.”
+
+“If you can do it without shooting,” replied the chief, “try your
+hand at it. Be careful, however, Reade. There are plenty of
+good natural lead mines in these mountains.”
+
+“Yes---sir?” asked Reade, looking puzzled.
+
+“Much as we’d like to see Pete permanently out of this camp, remember
+that we don’t want you to give the fellow any excuse for turning
+you into a lead mine.”
+
+“If Peter tries anything like that with me,” retorted Tom solemnly,
+“I shall be deeply offended.”
+
+“Very good. Take the young men along with you, Blaisdell. I’ll
+hear your report on them tomorrow night.”
+
+The assistant engineer took Tom and Harry over to a seven by nine
+tent.
+
+“You’ll bunk in here,” he explained, “and store your dunnage here.
+There are two folding cots in the tent, as you see. Don’t shake
+’em out until it’s time to turn in, and then you’ll have more
+room in your house. Now, come on over and I’ll show you the mess
+tent for the engineers.”
+
+This Blaisdell also showed them. There was nothing in the tent
+but a plain, long table, with folding legs, and a lot of camp
+chairs of the simplest kind.
+
+“What’s that tent, Mr. Blaisdell?” inquired Harry, pointing to
+the next one, as they came out of the engineers’ mess.
+
+“Mess tent for the chainmen and rod men laborers, etc.,” replied
+their guide. “Now, the fellows will be in soon, and supper will
+be on in half an hour. After you get your dunnage over to your
+tent amuse yourselves in any way that you care to. I’ll introduce
+you to the crowd at table.”
+
+Tom and Harry speedily had their scanty dunnage stored in their
+own tent. Then they sat down on campstools just outside the door.
+
+“Thurston didn’t seem extremely cordial, did he?” asked Hazelton
+solemnly.
+
+“Well, why should he be cordial?” Tom demanded. “What does he
+know about us? We’re trying to break in here and make a living,
+but how does he know that we’re not a pair of merely cheerful
+idiots?”
+
+“I’ve an idea that Mr. Thurston is always rather cool with his
+staff,” pursued Harry.
+
+“Do your work, old fellow, in an exceptionally fine way, and I
+guess you’ll find that he can thaw out. Mr. Thurston is probably
+just like other men who have to employ folks. When he finds that
+a man can really do the work that he’s paid to do I imagine that
+Thurston is well satisfied and not afraid to show it.”
+
+“What’s that noise?” demanded Harry, trying to peer around the
+corner of their tent without rising.
+
+“The field gang coming in, I think,” answered Tom.
+
+“Let’s get up, then, and have a look at our future mates,” suggested
+Harry Hazelton.
+
+“No; I don’t believe it would be a good plan,” said Tom. “We might
+be thought fresh if we betrayed too much curiosity before the
+crowd shows some curiosity about us.”
+
+“Reade!” sounded Blaisdell’s voice, five minutes later. “Bring
+your friend over and inspect this choice lot of criminals.”
+
+Tom rose eagerly, followed by Harry. As they left the tent and
+hurried outside they beheld two rows of men, each before a long
+bench on which stood agate wash basins. The toilet preceding
+the evening meal was on.
+
+“Gentlemen,” announced Mr. Blaisdell, as the two chums drew near, “I
+present two new candidates for fame. One is named Reade, the other
+Hazelton. Take them to your hearts, but don’t, at first, teach them all
+the wickedness you know. Reade, this is Jack Rutter, the spotted hyena
+of the camp. If he ever gets in your way just push him over a cliff.”
+
+A pleasant-faced young man in khaki hastily dried his face and
+hands on a towel, then smilingly held out his right hand.
+
+“Glad to know you, Reade,” he laughed. “Hope you’ll like us and
+decide to stay.”
+
+“Hazelton,” continued the announcer, “shake hands with Slim Morris,
+whether he’ll let you or not. And here’s Matt Rice. We usually
+call him ‘Mister’ Rice, for he’s extremely talented. He knows
+how to play the banjo.”
+
+The assistant engineer then turned away, while one young man,
+at the farther end of the long wash bench stood unpresented.
+
+“Oh, on second thoughts,” continued Blaisdell, “I’ll introduce
+you to Joe Grant.”
+
+The last young man came forward.
+
+“Joe used to be a good fellow---once,” added the assistant engineer.
+“In these days, however, you want to keep your dunnage boxes
+locked. Joe’s specialty is stealing fancy ties---neckties, I
+mean.”
+
+Joe laughed good-humoredly as he shook hands, adding:
+
+“We’ll tell you all about Blaisdell himself, boys, one of these
+days, but not now. It’s too far from pay day, and old Blaze stands
+in too thickly with the chief.”
+
+“If you folks don’t come into supper soon,” growled the voice
+of the cook, Jake Wren, from the doorway of the engineer’s mess
+tent, “I’ll eat your grub myself.”
+
+“He’d do it, too,” groaned Slim Morris, a young man who nevertheless
+weighed more than two hundred pounds. “Blaze, won’t you take
+us inside and put us in our high chairs?”
+
+There was infinite good humor in this small force of field engineers.
+As was afterwards learned, all of them were graduates either
+of colleges or of scientific schools but not one of them affected
+any superiority over the young newcomers.
+
+Just as the party had seated themselves there was a step outside,
+and Bad Pete stalked in looking decidedly sulky.
+
+“Evening,” he grunted, and helped himself to a seat at the table.
+
+“Reade and Hazelton, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Pete,
+I believe?” asked Blaisdell, without the trace of a smile.
+
+“Huh!” growled Pete, not looking up, for the first supply of food
+was on the table.
+
+“We’ve had the pleasure, twice today, of meeting Mr. Peter,” replied
+Tom, with equal gravity.
+
+“See here, tenderfoot,” scowled Bad Pete, looking up from his
+plate, “don’t you call me ‘Peter’ again. Savvy?”
+
+“We don’t know your other name, sir,” rejoined Tom, eyeing the
+bad man with every outward sign of courtesy.
+
+“I’m just plain Pete. Savvy that?
+
+“Certainly, Plain Pete,” Reade nodded.
+
+Pete dropped his soup spoon with a clatter letting his right hand
+fall to the holster.
+
+“Be quiet, Pete,” warned Blaisdell, his eyes shooting a cold glance
+at the angry man. “Reade is a newcomer, not used to our ways
+yet. Remember that this is a gentleman’s club.”
+
+“Then let him get out,” warned Pete blackly.
+
+“He belongs here by right, Pete, and you’re a guest. Of course we
+enjoy having you here with us, but, if you don’t care to take us
+as you find us, the fellows in the chainmen’s mess will be glad to
+have you join them.”
+
+“That tenderfoot is only a boy,” growled Pete. “If he can’t hold
+his tongue when men are around, then I’ll teach him how.”
+
+“Reade hasn’t done anything to offend you,” returned Blaisdell,
+half sternly, half goodhumoredly. “You let him alone, and he’ll
+let you alone. I’m sure of that.”
+
+“Blaisdell, if you don’t see that I’m treated right in this mess,
+I’ll teach you something, too,” flared Bad Pete.
+
+“Threatening the president of the mess is a breach of courtesy
+on the part of any guest who attempts it,” spoke Blaisdell again.
+“Gentlemen, what is your pleasure?”
+
+“I move,” suggested Slim Morris quietly, “that Pete be considered
+no longer a member or guest of this mess.”
+
+“Second the motion,” cried Rutter, Rice and Grant together.
+
+“The motion appears to have been carried, without the necessity
+for putting it,” declared Mr. Blaisdell. “Pete, you have heard
+the pleasure of the mess.”
+
+“Huh!” scowled Bad Pete, picking up his soup plate and draining it.
+
+Jake Wren, at this moment, entered with a big platter of roast
+beef, Bob, the helper, following with dishes of vegetables. Then
+Bob came in with plates, which he placed before Blaisdell. The
+latter counted the plates, finding eight.
+
+“We shan’t need this plate, Bob,” declared Blaisdell evenly, handing
+it back. Then he began to carve.
+
+“Put that plate back with the rest, Bob, you pop-eyed coyote,”
+ordered Bad Pete.
+
+Bob, looking uneasy, started to do so, but Blaisdell waved him
+away. At that instant Jake Wren came back into the tent.
+
+“For the present, Jake,” went on the assistant engineer, “serve
+only for seven in this tent. Pete is leaving us.”
+
+“Do you mean-----” flared Pete, leaping to his feet and striding
+toward the engineer.
+
+“I mean,” responded Blaisdell, without looking up, “that we hope
+the chainmen’s mess will take you on. But if they don’t like
+you, they don’t have to do so.”
+
+For ten seconds, while Pete stood glaring at Blaisdell, it looked
+as though the late guest would draw his revolver. Pete was swallowing
+hard, his face having turned lead color.
+
+“Won’t you oblige us by going at once, Pete?” inquired Blaisdell
+coolly.
+
+“Not until I’ve settled my score here,” snarled the fellow. “Not
+until I’ve evened up with you, you-----”
+
+At the same time Pete reached for his revolver in evident earnest.
+Both his words and his movement were nipped short.
+
+Morris and Rice were the only men in the engineers’ party who
+carried revolvers. They carried weapons, in the day time, for
+protection against a very real foe, the Rocky Mountain rattlesnakes,
+which infested the territory through which the engineers were
+then working.
+
+Both these engineers reached swiftly for their weapons.
+
+Before they could produce them, however, or ore Pete could finish
+what he was saying, Tom Reade leaped up from his campstool, closing
+in behind the bad man.
+
+“Ow-ow! Ouch!” yelled Pete. “Let go, you painted coyote.”
+
+“Walk right out of the tent, and I shall rejoice to let you depart,”
+responded Tom steadily.
+
+Standing behind the fellow, he had, with his strong, wiry fingers,
+gripped Pete hard right over the biceps muscle of each arm. Like
+many another of his type Pete had developed no great amount of
+bodily strength. Though he struggled furiously, he was unable
+to wrench himself free from this youth who had trained hard in
+football training squads.
+
+“Step outside and cool off, Peter,” advised Tom, thrusting the
+bad man through the doorway. “Have too much pride, man, to force
+yourself on people who don’t want your company.”
+
+Reade ran his foe outside a dozen feet, then released him, turning
+and reentering the tent.
+
+“No, you don’t! Put up your pistol,” sounded the warning voice
+of Cook Jake Wren outside. “You take a shot at that young feller,
+Pete, and I’ll never serve you another mouthful as long as I’m
+in the Rockies!”
+
+Bad Pete gazed fiercely toward the engineers’ tent, hesitated
+a moment, and then walked wrathfully away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE DAY OF REAL WORK DAWNS
+
+
+The meal was finished in peace after that. It was so hearty a
+meal that Tom and Harry, who had not yet acquired the keen edge
+of appetite that comes to hard workers in the Rockies, had finished
+long before any one else.
+
+“You fellers had better hurry up,” commanded Jake Wren finally.
+“It’ll soon be dark, and I’m not going to furnish candles.”
+
+As the cook was an autocrat in camp, the engineers meekly called
+for more pie and coffee, disposed of it and strolled out of the
+mess tent over to their own little village under canvas.
+
+“Bring over your banjo, Matt,” urged Joe. “Nothing like the merry
+old twang to make the new boys feel at home in our school.”
+
+Rice needed no further urging. As darkness came down a volume
+of song rang out.
+
+“What time do we turn out in the morning?” Tom asked, as Mr.
+Blaisdell brought over a camp stool and sat near them.
+
+“At five sharp,” responded the assistant engineer. “An hour later
+we hit the long trail in earnest. This isn’t an idling camp.”
+
+“I’m glad it isn’t,” Reade nodded.
+
+Then Blaisdell chatted with the boys, drawing out of them what
+they knew, or thought they knew, of civil engineering, especially
+as applied to railroad building.
+
+“I hope you lads are going to make good,” said Blaisdell earnestly.
+“We’re in something of a fix on this work at best, and we need
+even more than we have, of the very best hustling engineers that
+can be found.”
+
+“I am beginning to wonder,” said Tom, “how, when you have such
+need of men of long training, your New York office ever came to
+pick us out.”
+
+“Because,” replied the assistant candidly, “the New York office
+doesn’t know the difference between an engineer and a railroad
+tie. Tim Thurston has been making a long yell at the New York
+offices of the company for engineers. Knowing the little that
+they do, our New York owners take anyone who says he’s an engineer,
+and unload the stranger on us.”
+
+“I hope we prove up to the work,” sighed Harry.
+
+“We’re going to size up. We’ve got to, and that’s all there is
+to it,” retorted Tom. “We’ve been thrown in the water here, Harry,
+and we’ve got to swim---which means that we’re going to do so.
+Mr. Blaisdell,” turning to the assistant, “you needn’t worry
+as to whether we’re going to make good. We _shall_!”
+
+“I like your spirit, at any rate, and I’ve a notion that you’re
+going to win through,” remarked the assistant.
+
+“You try out a lot of men here, don’t you?” asked Harry.
+
+“A good many,” assented Blaisdell.
+
+“From what I heard at table,” Hazelton continued, “Mr. Thurston
+drops a good many of the new men after trying them.”
+
+“He doesn’t drop any man that he doesn’t have to drop,” returned
+Blaisdell. “Tim Thurston wants every competent man that he can
+get here. Let me see-----”
+
+Blaisdell did some silent counting on his fingers. Then he went
+on:
+
+“In the last eleven weeks, Thurston has dropped just sixteen new
+men.”
+
+“Whew!” gasped Harry, casting a sidelong glance at his shoes,
+with visions of a coming walk at least as far back as Denver or
+Pueblo.
+
+“Mr. Thurston isn’t going to drop us,” Tom declared. “Mr. Blaisdell,
+Hazelton and I are here and we’re going to hang on if we have
+to do it with our teeth. We’re going to know how to do what’s
+required of us if we have to stay up all night finding out. We’ve
+just got to make good, for we haven’t any money with which to
+get home or anywhere else. Besides, if we can’t make good here
+we’re not fit to be tried out anywhere else.”
+
+“We’re in an especially hard fix, you see,” the assistant engineer
+explained. “When we got our charter something less than two years
+ago we undertook to have every mile of track ballasted and laid
+on the S.B. & L., and trains running through, by September 30th
+of this year. There are three hundred and fifty-four miles of
+road in all. Now, in July, less than three months from the time,
+this camp is forty-nine miles from the terminus of the road at
+Loadstone, while the constructing engineers and the track-layers
+are thirty-eight miles behind us. Do you see the problem?”
+
+“You can get an extension of time, can’t you?” asked Tom.
+
+“We can---_not_! You see, boys, the S.B. & L. is the popular
+road. That is, it’s the one that the people of this state backed
+in the main. When we got our charter from the legislature there
+was a lot of opposition from the W.C. & A. railroad. That organization
+wishes to add to their road, using the very locations that our
+preliminary engineering force selected for the S.B. & L. The
+W.C. & A. folks have such a bewildering number of millions at
+their back that they would have won away from us, had they been
+an American crowd. The W.C. & A. has only American officers
+and a few small stockholders in this country. The W.C. & A.
+is a foreign crowd throughout in reality, and back of them they
+have about all the money that’s loose in London, Paris and Berlin.
+The W.C. & A. spent a lot of money at the state capital, I guess,
+for it was common report that some of the members of the legislature
+had sold out to the foreign crowd. So, though public clamor carried
+our charter through the legislature by sheer force, the best concession
+we could get was that our road must be built and in operation
+over the entire length by September 30th, or the state has the
+privilege of taking over our road at an appraised value. Do you
+see what that means?”
+
+“Does it mean that the state would then turn around and sell this
+road to the W.C. & A. at a good profit?” asked Reade.
+
+“You’ve hit it,” nodded Mr. Blaisdell. “The W.C. & A. would be
+delighted to take over our road at a price paid to the state that
+would give Colorado quite a few millions in profits. The legislature
+would then have a chance to spend those millions on public improvements
+in the state. I think you will understand why public clamor now
+seems to have swung about in favor of the W.C.& A.”
+
+“Yet it seems to me,” put in Harry, “that, even if the S.B. & L.
+does fail to get the railroad through in time, the stockholders
+will get their money back when the state takes the road over.”
+
+“That, one can never count on,” retorted Blaisdell, shaking his
+head. “The state courts would have charge of the appraising of
+the value of the road, and one can never tell just what courts
+will award. Ten chances to one the appraisal wouldn’t cover more
+than fifty per cent. of what the S.B. & L. has expended, and
+thus our company would be many millions of dollars out of pocket.
+Besides, if the courts could be depended upon to appraise this
+uncompleted road at twenty per cent. more than has been expended
+upon it, our company would still lose, for what the S.B. & L.
+really expects to do is to bag the big profits that can be made
+out of the section of the state that this road taps. Take it
+from me, boys, the officials of this road are crazy with anxiety
+to get the road through in time, and not lose the many millions
+that are waiting to be earned by the S.B. & L. getting this road
+through is all that Tim Thurston dreams of, by night or day.
+His reputation---and he has a big one in railroad building---is
+wholly at stake on his carrying this job through. It’ll be a
+big prize for all of us, professionally, if we can back Thurston’s
+fight to win.”
+
+“I’ll back it to win,” glowed Tom ardently “Mr. Blaisdell, I am
+well aware that I’m hardly more than the lens cap on a transit
+in this outfit, but I’m going to do every ounce of my individual
+share to see this road through and running on time, and I’ll carry
+as much of any other man’s burden as I can load onto my shoulders!”
+
+“Good!” chuckled Blaisdell, holding out his hand. “I see that
+you’re one of us, heart and soul, Reade. What have you to say,
+Hazelton?”
+
+“I always let Tom do my talking, because he can do it better,”
+smiled Harry. “At the same time, I’ve known Tom Reade for a good
+many years, and his performance is always as good as his promise.
+As for me, Mr. Blaisdell, I’ve just told you that Tom does my
+talking, but I back up all that he promises for me.”
+
+“Pinkitty-plank-plink!” twanged Matt Rice’s banjo, starting into
+another rollicking air.
+
+“I guess it’s taps, boys,” called Blaisdell in his low but resonant
+voice. “Look at the chief’s tent; he’s putting out his candles now.”
+
+A glance at the gradually darkening walls of the chief engineers
+big tent showed that this was the case.
+
+“We’ll all turn in,” nodded Blaisdell.
+
+So Tom and Harry hastened to their tent, where they unfolded their
+camp cots and set them up. There was not much bed-making. The
+body of the cot was of canvas, and required no mattress. From
+out of their baggage each took a small pillow and pair of blankets.
+At this altitude the night was already rather chilly, despite
+the fact that it was July.
+
+Rapidly undressing in the dark the young engineers crawled in
+between their blankets.
+
+“Well, at last,” murmured Harry, “we’re engineers in earnest.
+That is,” he added rather wistfully, “if we last.”
+
+“We’ve got to last,” replied Tom in a low voice, hardly above
+a whisper, “and we’re going to. Harry, we’ve left behind us the
+playtime of boyhood, and we’re beginning real life! But in that
+playtime we learned how to play real football. From now on we’ll
+apply all of the best and most strenuous rules of football to
+the big art of making a living and a reputation. Good night,
+old fellow! Dream of the folks back in Gridley. I’m going to.”
+
+“And of the chums at West Point and Annapolis,” gaped Hazelton.
+“God bless them!”
+
+That was not the only short prayer sent up, but within five minutes
+both youngsters had fallen sound asleep. The man who can sleep
+as they did, when the head touches the pillow, has many successes
+still ahead of him!
+
+Nor did they worry about not waking in season in the morning.
+Slim Morris had promised to see to it that they were awake on time.
+
+Slam! Bump! Tom Reade was positive he had not been asleep more
+than a minute when that rude interruption came. He awoke to find
+himself scrambling up from the ground.
+
+Tom had his eyes open in time to see Harry Hazelton hit the ground
+with force. Then Slim Morris retreated to the doorway of the tent.
+
+“Are you fellows going to sleep until pay days” Slim demanded jovially.
+
+Tom hustled into his clothes, reached the doorway of the tent
+and found the sun already well up in the skies.
+
+“The boys are sitting down to breakfast,” called Slim over his
+shoulder. “Want any?”
+
+“_Do_ I want any?” mocked Tom. He had laid out his khaki clothing
+the night before, and was now in it, save for his khaki jacket,
+which he caught up on his arm as he raced along toward the wash bench.
+
+Nor had he gone very far with the soap and water when Harry Hazelton
+was beside him.
+
+“Tom, Tom!” breathed Harry in ecstacy. “Do you blame people for
+loving the Rocky Mountains? This grand old mountain air is food
+and drink---almost.”
+
+“It may be for you. I want some of the real old camp chuck---plenty
+of it,” retorted Reade, drawing a pocket comb out and running it
+through his damp locks while he gazed into the foot-square camp mirror
+hanging from a tree.
+
+“May we come in?” inquired Tom, pausing in the doorway of the
+engineers’ mess tent.
+
+“Not if you’re in doubt about it,” replied Mr. Blaisdell, who
+was already eating with great relish. The boys slid into their
+seats, while Bob rapidly started things their way.
+
+How good it all tasted! Bacon and fried eggs, corn bread and
+potatoes, coffee and a big dish of that time-honored standby in
+engineers’ camp---baked beans. Then, just as Tom and Harry, despite
+their appetites, sat back filled, Bob appeared with a plate of
+flapjacks and a pitcher of molasses.
+
+“Ten minutes of six,” observed Mr. Blaisdell, consulting his watch
+as he finished. “Not much more time, gentlemen.”
+
+Tom and Harry followed the assistant engineer out into the open.
+
+“Can you tell us now, Mr. Blaisdell, what we’re to do today?”
+Reade inquired eagerly.
+
+“See those transits?” inquired Blaisdell, pointing to two of the
+telescoped and compassed instruments used by surveyors in running
+courses. “One for each of you. Take your choice. You’ll go
+out today under charge of Jack Rutter. Of course it will be a
+little bit slow to you the first two or three days, but between
+you, I hope to see you do more than Rutter could do alone. You’ll
+each have two chainmen. Rutter will give you blank form books
+for your field notes. He’ll work back and forth between the two
+of you, seeing that you each do your work right. Boys, don’t
+make any mistakes today, will you, So much depends, you know,
+upon the way you start in at a new job.”
+
+“We’ll do the best that’s in us,” breathed Tom ardently.
+
+“Engineer Rutter,” called Blaisdell, “your two assistants are
+ready. Get your two sets of chainmen and make a flying start.”
+
+Animated by the spirit of activity that pervaded the camp, Tom
+and Harry ran to select their instruments, while Rutter hastened
+after his chainmen.
+
+Bad Pete had not appeared at either mess this morning. He had
+small need to, for, in the still watches of the night, he had
+burglarized the cook’s stores so successfully that not even that
+argus-eyed individual had noticed the loss.
+
+Having breakfasted heartily in a deep thicket, Pete now looked
+down over the camp, his eyes twinkling in an evil way.
+
+“I’ll get bounced out of mess on account of two pasty-faced tenderfeet
+like those boys, will I?” Pete grumbled to himself. “Before
+this morning is over I reckon I’ll have all accounts squared
+with the tenderfeet!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+“TRYING OUT” THE GRIDLEY BOYS
+
+
+The chainmen picked up the transits, carrying also the chains
+and rods. Rutter led the way, Tom and Harry keeping on either
+side of him, except when the rough mountain trail narrowed. Then
+they were obliged to walk at his heels.
+
+“We are making this survey first,” Rutter explained, “and then
+the leveling over the same ground follows within a few days.
+Both the surveying and the leveling have to be done with great
+care. They must tally accurately, or the work will all go wrong,
+and the contractors would be thrown out so badly that they’d hardly
+know where they stood. A serious mistake in surveying or leveling
+at any point might throw the work down for some days. As you’ve
+already heard explained, any delay, now, is going to lose us our
+charter as sure as guns.”
+
+For more than a mile and a half the brisk walk continued. At
+last Rutter halted, pointing to a stake driven in the ground.
+
+“See the nail head in the top of the stake?” he inquired.
+
+“Yes,” Tom nodded.
+
+“You’ll find a similar nail head in every stake. The exact point
+of the plummet of your bog-line must centre on the middle of that
+nail head. You can’t be too exact about that, remember.”
+
+Turning to one of the chainmen, Rutter added:
+
+“Jansen, take a rod and hustle along to the next stake.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered the man, and started on a run. Nor did he
+pause until he had located the stake. Then he signaled back with
+his right hand. Tom Reade, in the meantime, had quickly set up
+his transit over the first stake on his part of the course. He
+did some rough shifting, at first, until the point of the plummet
+was exactly over the nail head. Then followed some careful adjusting
+of the instrument on its supports until two fine spirit levels
+showed that the compass of the instrument was exactly level.
+“Now, let me see you get your sight,” urged Rutter.
+
+Tom did so, coolly, manipulating his instrument as rapidly as
+he could with safety, yet not with speed enough to cause himself
+confusion or worry.
+
+“I’ve got a sight on the rod,” announced Reade, without emotion.
+
+“Are the cross-hairs, as you see them through the telescope, just
+on the mark?” Rutter demanded.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Let me have a look,” ordered Rutter. “A fine, close sight,” he
+assented, after taking a careful look through the telescope.
+“Now, take your reading.”
+
+This showed the course by the compass, and was expressed in degrees,
+minutes and seconds. The poor reading of a course is one of the
+frequent faults of new or careless engineers.
+
+“Here is a magnifier for the vernier,” continued Rutter, just
+after Tom had started to make his reading.
+
+“Thank you; I have a pretty good one of my own,” Tom answered,
+diving into one of his pockets and bringing to light a small but
+powerful reading glass with an aplanatic lens.
+
+“You carry a better magnifier than I do,” laughed Rutter. “Hazelton,
+do You carry a pocket glass?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” nodded Harry “I have one just like Reade’s.”
+
+“Good! I can see that you youngsters believe in good tools.”
+
+Tom in the meantime was busy with the vernier of his transit.
+This is an ingenious device for showing the smaller divisions
+into which the circles of the compass are divided. Tom quickly
+jotted down his field note in degrees, minutes and seconds. One
+chainman now held an end of a hundred-link chain at the nail head
+on the stake, while a second man started toward the rodman, unfolding
+the chain as he went.
+
+Tom remained over his transit. The traveling chainman frequently
+glanced back for directions from Reade whether or not he was off
+the course of a straight line to the next stake.
+
+Soon the chain-bearer was a little to the left of the line.
+
+Tom held a hand over the telescope of the transit, moving it very
+slowly to the right. The chain-bearer, glancing slowly back,
+stepped slowly to the right of the course until Tom’s hand fell
+abruptly. Then the chain-bearer stopped, knowing that he was
+on the right line. A metal stake, having a loop at the top from
+which fluttered a marker of red flannel, the man stuck upright
+in the ground. Tom took a peep, signaling so gently that the
+man moved the stake just half an inch before Reade’s hand again
+fell.
+
+“That stake is right; go ahead,” ordered Tom, but he said it not by
+word of mouth, but merely with a slight gesture of pushing forward.
+
+“You’ve been well trained, I’ll bet a hat,” smiled Butter. “I
+can tell that by the practiced way that you signal. O’Brien!”
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered another chainman, stepping forward.
+
+“Take Thane with you, and carry Mr. Hazelton’s transit to Grizzly
+Ledge. Mr. Hazelton and I will be there presently.”
+
+Two more chainmen started away.
+
+Now, both of Tom’s chainmen started forward, the rear one moving
+to the first metal stake that displayed the red marker. Tom still
+remained at the transit, motioning to the men whenever they got
+the least out of a true straight line to the rodman. It was not
+hard work for Reade at this point, but it required his closest
+attention.
+
+After some time had passed the chainmen had “chained” the whole
+distance between Tom’s stake and the rod resting on the next stake.
+Now the rodman, after making a close measurement, signaled back.
+Nine downward sweeps of his right arm signified nine chains;
+next the movements of his arm signaled the forty-four links of
+a tenth chain. Then seven movements of the left hand across in
+front of the eyes, and Reade knew that stood for seven-tenths
+of a link. Hence on the page of his field note book Tom wrote
+the distance between the stakes as nine chains and forty-four
+and seven-tenths links.
+
+“That’s good,” nodded Rutter, who had been watching every move
+closely. The forty-four signaled by the rodman’s left arm, instead
+of being made up of forty-four downward strokes, had consisted
+of four such strokes, followed by a pause, and then four more
+strokes.
+
+“I’ll go along and see you get the course and distance to the
+third rod,” said Rutter.
+
+This course and distance, too, in time, had been measured and
+carefully noted by Reade.
+
+“You’ll get along all right, if you pay strict attention and don’t
+become confused or careless,” nodded Jack Rutter. “Now, I’ll
+write ‘Reade’ on this starting stake of yours, and I’ll write
+Hazelton on your friend’s starting stake. After you’ve surveyed
+to Hazelton’s starting stake let your rodman bring you forward
+until you overhaul me.”
+
+“Very good, sir,” nodded Tom coolly.
+
+Rutter and Harry moved along the trail, leaving Tom with his own
+“gang.”
+
+“Nothing very mentally wearing in this job,” reflected Tom, when
+he found himself left to his own resources. “All a fellow has
+to do is to keep his head clear, be faithful and exactly honest
+with his work, and move with all the speed that good, straight
+work will allow.”
+
+So Reade moved ahead, getting courses and distances to five more
+stakes. Then, as he reached the sixth, he gazed ahead and smiled.
+A mountain pond lay right in his straight path to the seventh stake.
+
+“Can that pond be easily forded?” Reade asked the nearer chainman.
+
+“No, sir; it’s about ten feet deep in the centre.”
+
+Tom smiled grimly to himself.
+
+“Rutter didn’t say anything about this to me,” Tom muttered to
+himself. “He put this upon me, to see how I’d get over an obstacle
+like an unfordable pond. Well, it’s going to take a lot of time
+but I’ll show Mr. Jack Rutter!”
+
+Accordingly, Reade allowed his chainmen to proceed measuring until
+they were fairly close to the pond. Then he went forward to the
+metal stake that had just been driven. From this stake he laid
+out a new course to the north and at exact right angles with the
+proper course, sending his chainmen forward with markers. When
+he had thus passed the end of the pond Reade took another course
+at exactly right angles to the northerly course, but now going
+westerly. This he extended until it passed the pond by a few
+feet. Once more Reade laid out a course, southerly, at exact
+right angles with the westerly course, the southerly line being
+exactly four chains in length, as the northerly line had been.
+Now, the young engineer was able to resume his surveying toward
+the seventh stake. The extra route that he had followed made
+three sides of a square. Tom was now in line again, with the
+pond passed, and the exact distance between the sixth and seventh
+stakes.
+
+“I guess that was where Rutter was sure he’d have me,” chuckled
+Tom quietly. “He’s probe ably waiting ahead to see me come hot-footing
+over the trail to ask for orders.”
+
+At the tenth stake Tom found “Hazelton” written thereon.
+
+“Men,” said the young engineer, “I guess this is where we go forward
+and look for the crowd. Get up the stuff and we’ll trot along.”
+
+Nearly an hour of solid tramping over the trail followed before
+Tom and his party, guided by the rodman, came upon Harry Hazelton.
+Jack Rutter, chewing a blade of grass, sat under a tree at a
+little distance from where Harry was watching and signaling to
+two chainmen who were getting a distance.
+
+“Is your own work all done?” asked Rutter.
+
+“Yes, sir,” Tom answered.
+
+“Let me see your field notes.”
+
+Reade passed over the book containing them. From an inner pocket
+Rutter drew out his own field note book. Before another minute
+had passed Tom had opened his eyes very wide.
+
+“Your field notes are all straight, my boy. If you’ve made any
+errors, then I’ve made the same.”
+
+“You’ve already been over this work that we’ve been doing?” demanded
+Tom, feeling somewhat abashed.
+
+“Of course,” nodded the older and more experienced engineer.
+“You don’t for a moment suppose we’d trust you with original work
+until we had tried you out, do you? We have all the field notes
+for at least three miles more ahead of here. Hazelton!”
+
+“Coming,” said Harry, after jotting down his last observations
+and the distance.
+
+“Let me see your last notes, Hazelton,” directed Rutter. “Yes;
+your work is all right.”
+
+“What do you know about this, Harry?” laughingly demanded Reade.
+
+“I’ve suspected for the last two hours that Mr. Rutter was merely
+trying us out over surveyed courses,” laughed Harry.
+
+“If you don’t know how to do anything other than transit work,”
+Rutter declared, “the chief can use all your time at that. He’ll
+be pleased when I tell him that you’re at least as good surveyors
+as I am. And, Reade, I see from your notes that you knew how
+to measure across a pond that your chainmen couldn’t ford.”
+
+“Mr. Price taught me that trick, back in Gridley,” Tom responded.
+
+Suddenly Jack Rutter sprang to his feet sniffing vigorously.
+
+“Boys,” he announced, “an adventure is coming our way. Can you
+guess what it is?”
+
+Tom and Harry gazed at him blankly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+TOM DOESN’T MIND “ARTILLERY”
+
+
+“I give it up,” Reade replied.
+
+“Well, it’s dinner time,” declared Rutter, displaying the face
+of his watch.
+
+“Do we have to walk all the way back to camp?” queried Harry,
+who knew that no provisions had been brought with them.
+
+“No; camp is going to be brought to us,” smiled Rutter. “At least,
+a part of the camp will be brought here. Look up the trail there,
+at that highest rise. Do you see dust near there?”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Tom.
+
+“A burro pack-train, conveying our food and that of the other
+surveying parties ahead of us,” nodded Rutter. “You’ll find the
+cook’s helper, Bob, in charge of it.”
+
+“Is that the way the meals are brought out every day?” asked Hazelton.
+
+“No; but now we’re getting pretty far from camp, and it would
+waste a lot of our time to go back and forth. So our noon meals
+will come by burro route. Tomorrow or the day after the camp
+will be moved forward.”
+
+“How long before that train will be here?” Tom wanted to know.
+
+“Probably ten minutes,” guessed Rutter.
+
+“Then I’m going to see if I can’t find some little stream such
+as I’ve passed this morning,” Tom went on. “I want to wash before
+I’m introduced to clean food.”
+
+“I’ll go along presently,” nodded Harry to his chum. “There’s
+something about the spirit level on this transit of mine that
+I want to inspect.”
+
+So Tom Reade trudged off into the brush alone. After a few minutes
+he returned.
+
+“That burro outfit in sight?” he called, as he neared the trail.
+
+“No,” answered Rutter. “But it’s close. Once in a while I can
+hear a burro clicking his hoofs against stones.”
+
+Harry appeared two minutes later, just as the foremost burro,
+with Bob by its head, put in an appearance about fifty yards away.
+
+“All ready for you, Bob,” called Rutter good-humoredly.
+
+“You gentlemen of the engineer corps are always ready,” grunted
+the cook’s helper.
+
+A quick stop was made, Bob unloading tin plates, bowls and cups.
+
+“Soup!” cried Rutter in high glee. “This is fine living for buck
+engineers, Bob!”
+
+“There’s even dessert,” returned the cook’s helper gravely, exposing
+an entire apple pie.
+
+There was also meat, still fairly warm, as well as canned vegetables
+in addition to potatoes. A pot of hot coffee finished the repast
+that Bob unloaded at this point.
+
+“Everything but napkins!” chuckled Rutter, as he and the boys
+quickly “set table” on the ground.
+
+“No; something else is missing,” answered Tom gravely. “Bob forgot
+the finger-bowls.”
+
+The helper, beginning to feel that he was being “guyed,” took
+refuge in cold indifference.
+
+“Just stack the things up at this point when you’re through,” directed
+Bob. “I’ll pick ’em up when I come back on the trail.”
+
+Rutter, like a good chief, saw to it that his two assistants and
+the chainmen were started on their meal ere he himself began.
+In half an hour every morsel of food and the final drop of coffee
+had disappeared.
+
+“Twenty minutes to loaf,” advised Rutter, throwing himself on
+the ground and closing his eyes. “I’ll take a nap. You’d better
+follow my example.”
+
+“Then who’ll call us?” asked Tom.
+
+“I will,” gaped Rutter.
+
+“Without a clock to ring an alarm?”
+
+“Humph! Any real backwoods engineer can wake up in twenty minutes
+if he sets his mind on it,” retorted Jack.
+
+This was a fact, though it was the first that Tom or Harry had
+heard of it.
+
+“See the time?” called Rutter, holding out his watch. “Twenty
+minutes of one. I’ll call you at one o’clock---see if I don’t.”
+
+In that fine air, with all the warmth of the noon hour, there
+was no difficulty in going to sleep. Truth to tell, Tom and Harry
+had tramped so far that forenoon that they were decidedly tired.
+Within sixty seconds both “cubs” were sound asleep.
+
+“One o’clock!” called Rutter, sitting up and consulting his watch.
+“Fall to, slaves! There is a big batch of work awaiting us.
+Hazelton, you can go right on where you left off. Survey along
+carefully until you come upon a stake marked ‘Reade.’ Then come
+forward until you find us. Reade, I’ll go along with you and
+show you where to break in.”
+
+Preceded by their chainmen, Rutter and Reade trudged along the
+trail for something like a mile.
+
+“Halt,” ordered Jack Rutter. “Reade, write your autograph on that
+stake and begin.”
+
+Tom stepped over to the transit, adjusting it carefully and setting
+the hanging plummet on dead centre with the nail head in the top
+of the short stake.
+
+“Never set up a transit again,” directed Rutter, “without making
+sure that your levels are absolutely true, and that your vernier
+arrangement is in order.”
+
+“I don’t believe you’ll ever catch me at that, Mr. Rutter,” Tom
+answered, busying himself with the finer adjustments of the transit.
+“Mr. Price pounded that into me every time that he took me out
+in the field.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” went on Rutter, “I have known older engineers
+than you, Reade, who became careless, and their carelessness cost
+their employers a lot of wasted time and money. Now, you-----”
+
+At this juncture Jack Rutter suddenly crouched behind a low ledge
+at the right.
+
+“Get behind here, quickly, Reade!” called Rutter. “Bad Pete is
+up the hillside, about two hundred yards from you-----”
+
+“I haven’t time to bother with him, now,” Tom broke in composedly.
+
+“Duck fast, boy! Pete has an ugly grin on his face, and he’s
+reaching for his pistol. He’s got it out---he’s going to shoot!”
+whispered Rutter, drawing his head down where it would be safe
+from flying bullets.
+
+The chainmen, lounging nearby, had wasted no time in getting safely
+to cover.
+
+“Going to shoot, is he?” murmured Tom, without glancing away from
+the instrument. “Does Peter really know how to shoot,”
+
+“You’ll find out! Jump---like a flash, boy!”
+
+Tom went calmly on tinkering with the mechanism of his instrument.
+
+Bang! sounded up the trail. Tom’s fingers didn’t falter as he
+adjusted a small, brass screw.
+
+Bang! came the second shot. Tom betrayed no more annoyance than
+before. Bad Pete was aiming to drive bullets into the ground close
+to the young engineer’s feet, making him skip about. The sixth shot
+Pete was saving for clipping Reade’s hat from his head.
+
+The shots continued to ring out. Tom, though he appeared to be
+absorbed in his instrument, counted. When he had counted the
+sixth shot Reade dropped suddenly, picked up a stone that lay
+at his feet, and whirled about.
+
+Tom Reade hadn’t devoted years to ball-playing without knowing
+how to throw straight. The stone left his hand, arching upward,
+and flew straight toward Bad Pete, who had advanced steadily as
+he fired.
+
+Whiff! Though Pete tried, too late, to dodge the stone, it landed
+against his sombrero, carrying that away without injuring the
+owner.
+
+“Kindly clear out!” called Tom coolly. “You and your noise annoy me
+when I’m trying to do a big afternoon’s work.”
+
+Snatching up his sombrero, Bad Pete vanished into a clump of brush.
+
+Jack Rutter leaped up from his haven of safety, advancing swiftly
+to his cub assistant.
+
+“Reade,” he exclaimed, with ungrudging admiration, “you’re the
+coolest young fellow I ever met, without exception. But you’re
+foolhardy, boy. Bad Pete is a real shot. One of these days,
+when you’re just as cool, he’ll fill you full of lead!”
+
+“If he does?” retorted Tom, again bending over his transit, “and
+if I notice it, I’ll throw a bigger stone at him than I did that
+time, and it’ll land on him a few inches lower down.”
+
+“But, boy, don’t you understand that the days of David and Goliath
+are gone by,” remonstrated Rutter. “It’s true you’re turned the
+laugh on Pete, but that fellow won’t forgive you. He may open
+on you again within two minutes.”
+
+“I don’t believe he will,” replied Tom, with his quiet smile.
+“At the same time, I’ll be prepared for him.”
+
+Bending to the ground, and rummaging about a bit, Reade selected
+three stones that would throw well. These he dropped into one
+of his pockets.
+
+“Now, let the bad man trot himself on, if he has to,” added the
+cub engineer, waving a signal to the rodman, who had just halted
+at the next stake.
+
+“Well, of all the cool ones!” grunted Rutter, under his breath.
+“But, then, Reade’s a tenderfoot. He doesn’t understand just
+how dangerous a fellow like Pete can be.”
+
+The chainman started away to measure the distance. From up the
+hillside came sounds of smothered but very bad language.
+
+“There’s our friend Peter again,” Tom chuckled to Rutter.
+
+“Yes, and the ruffian may open on you again at any moment,” warned
+Jack, keeping an anxious glance turned in the direction whence
+came the disturbing voice of Bad Pete.
+
+“Oh, I don’t think he will,” drawled Tom, making a hand signal
+to the leading chainman to step a little more to the left. “I
+hope not, anyway, for the noise of revolver shots takes my thoughts
+away from my work.”
+
+Jack Rutter said no more after that, though through the rest of
+the afternoon he kept an alert lookout for signs of Pete. There
+were none, however. Rather earlier than usual, on account of
+the distance back to camp, Rutter knocked off work for the entire
+party and the start on the return to camp was made.
+
+Harry Hazelton was considerably excited when he heard the news
+of the firing on his chum. Reade, however, appeared to be but
+little interested in the subject.
+
+Pete was not in camp that evening.
+
+Rutter went at once to the tent of the chief, to tell him how
+well the “cubs” had done during the day. Nor did Jack forget
+to relate the encounter with Bad Pete.
+
+Just as the underlings of the staff were seating themselves around
+the table in their mess, Mr. Thurston thrust his head in at the
+doorway.
+
+“Reade,” called the chief engineer, “I have heard about your trouble
+with Pete today.”
+
+“There wasn’t any real trouble, sir,” Tom answered.
+
+“Fortunately for you, Reade, Pete didn’t intend to hit you. If
+he had meant to do so, he’d have done it. I’ve seen him shoot
+all the spots out of a ten of clubs. Don’t provoke the fellow,
+Reade, or he’ll shoot you full of fancy holes. Of course it showed
+both grit and coolness on your part in keeping steadily on with
+your work all the time the fellow was firing at you. Still, it
+was unwise to expose yourself needlessly to danger.”
+
+“I didn’t consider Bad Pete particularly dangerous,” Tom rejoined.
+
+“A lawless man with a loaded revolver is hardly a safe person
+to trifle with,” retorted Mr. Thurston dryly.
+
+“I see that I shall have to make a confession,” smiled Tom. “It
+was this way, sir. When Hazelton and I were on our way west Harry
+insisted that we were coming into a dangerous country and that
+we’d need firearms. So Harry bought two forty-five six-shooters
+and several boxes of cartridges, too. I was provoked when I heard
+about it, for we hadn’t any too much money, and Harry had bought
+the revolvers out of our joint treasury.”
+
+“I felt sure we’d need the pistols,” interrupted Hazelton. “Today’s
+affair shows that I was right. Tom, you’ll have to carry one
+of the revolvers after this.”
+
+“I’m no gun-packer,” retorted Tom scornfully. “Young men have
+no business carting firearms about unless they’re hunting or going
+to war. Any fellow who carries a pistol as he would a lead pencil
+is either a coward or a lunatic.”
+
+“I’m glad to hear you say that, Reade,” nodded Mr. Thurston approvingly.
+“Two of my staff carry pistols, but they do so under my orders.
+In the first place they’re grown men, not boys. In the second
+place, they’re working over a stretch of ground where rattlesnakes
+are thick. Your coolness today served you better than a pistol
+would have done. If you had had a revolver, and had drawn it,
+Pete would have drilled you through the head.”
+
+“Drilled me through the head---with what?” asked Tom, smiling.
+
+“With a bullet, of course, young man,” retorted Mr. Thurston.
+
+“I don’t believe he would have gone as far as that,” laughed Tom.
+“You see, sir, it was like this: When I found Harry so set on
+carrying a pistol, I went down deep in my own pocket and bought
+two boxes of blank cartridges to fit the forty-fives. I thought
+if Harry were going to do some shooting, it would be the part
+of friendship to fix him so that he could do it in safety to himself
+and others.”
+
+Harry’s face turned decidedly red. He was beginning to feel foolish.
+
+“Now, this morning,” Tom continued, “when I got the khaki out
+of my dunnage, I ran across the blanks. I don’t know what made
+me do it, but I dropped the box of blanks into one of my pockets.
+This noon, when I went off to find a stream where I could wash
+up, I almost stepped on our friend Peter, asleep under a bush.
+For greater comfort he had taken off his belt and holster. Somehow,
+I didn’t like the idea of his being there. As softly as I could
+I crept close. I emptied his revolver and fitted in blanks from
+my own box. Then I took about twenty cartridges out of Peter’s
+belt and replaced them with blanks.”
+
+“Do you mean to tell me,” broke in Rutter, “that Bad Pete, when
+he turned his revolver loose on you, was shooting nothing but
+blanks?”
+
+“That was all he had to shoot,” Tom returned coolly. “And blanks
+were all he had in his belt to reload with. Don’t you remember
+when we heard him making a noise up the hillside, and talking
+in dots and dashes!”
+
+“I do,” nodded Rutter, looking half dazed.
+
+“That,” grinned Reade, “was when he started in to reload? and
+discovered that he had nothing on hand but temperance cartridges.
+Here-----” Tom began to unload one of his pockets upon the wooden
+table before the astonished eyes of the others. There was a mixture
+of his own blank cartridges with the real ammunition that he had
+stealthily abstracted from Bad Pete’s revolver and belt.
+
+Such a whoop of glee ascended that the head chainman came running
+from the other nearby mess tent to see what was up.
+
+“Just a little joke among our youngsters, my man,” explained Mr.
+Thurston. “The young gentlemen are going to keep the joke to
+themselves for the present, though.”
+
+So the mystified and disappointed chainman returned to his own
+crowd.
+
+“Let me see, Reade,” continued Mr. Thurston, turning once more
+to Tom, “what is your salary?”
+
+“I was taken on, sir, at forty dollars a month, as a starter,”
+Tom replied.
+
+“A young man with your size of head is worth more than that to
+the company. We’ll call it fifty a month, Reade, and keep our
+eyes on you for signs of further improvement,” said the chief
+engineer, as he turned to go back to his own waiting dinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE BITE FROM THE BUSH
+
+
+From the time that they parted in the morning, until they started
+to go back to camp in the afternoon, Tom and Harry did not meet
+the next day. Each, with his chainmen, was served from Bob’s
+burro train at noon.
+
+“Did you see Bad Pete today?” was Harry’s greeting, as they Started
+back over the trail.
+
+“No.”
+
+“Did you hear from him or of him in any way?” pressed Hazelton.
+
+“Not a sign of any sort from Peter,” Tom went on. “I’ve a theory
+as to what’s keeping him away. He’s on a journey.”
+
+“Journey?”
+
+“Yes; between you and me, I believe that Peter has gone in search
+of someone who can sell him, or give him, a few forty-five cartridges.”
+
+“He’d better apply to you, then, Tom,” grinned Harry.
+
+“Why, I couldn’t sell him any,” Tom replied.
+
+“What did you do with those you had last night?”
+
+“You remember the unfordable pond that came in one of my courses
+yesterday?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“To-day I threw all of Peter’s .45’s into the middle of the pond.
+They must have sunk a foot into the mud by this time.”
+
+“Seriously, Tom, don’t you believe that you’d better take one
+of the revolvers that I bought and wear it on a belt?”
+
+“Not I,” retorted Reade. “Harry, I wish you could get that sort
+of foolishness out of your head. A revolver is of no possible
+use to a man who hasn’t any killing to do. I’m trying to learn
+to be a civil engineer, not a man-killer.”
+
+“Then I believe that Bad Pete will ‘get’ you one of these days,”
+sighed Hazelton.
+
+“Wait until he does,” smiled Tom. “Then you can have the fun
+of coming around and saying ‘I told you so.’”
+
+Their chainmen were ahead of the “cub” engineers on the trail.
+Tom and Harry were talking earnestly when they heard a pony’s
+hoofs behind them. Hazelton turned with a start.
+
+“Oh, it’s Rutter mounted,” Hazelton said, with a sigh of relief.
+“I was afraid it was Bad Pete.”
+
+“Take my word for it, Harry. Peter is a good deal of a coward.
+He won’t dare to show up until he has some real cartridges.
+The temperance kind do not give a man like Peter any real sense
+of security in the world.”
+
+Rutter rode along on his sure-footed mountain pony at a rapid
+jog. When he came close, Tom and Harry stepped aside into the
+brush to let him go by on the narrow trail.
+
+“Don’t get off into the brush that way,” yelled Rutter from the
+distance.
+
+“We’re trying to give you room,” Tom called.
+
+“I don’t need the room yet. I won’t run over you, anyway. Stand out
+of the brush, I tell you.”
+
+Tom good-humoredly obeyed, Harry moving, too, though starting
+an instant later.
+
+Prompt as he was, however, Tom Reade was a fraction of a second
+too late.
+
+Behind them there was a half-whirring, half-clicking sound.
+
+Then Reade felt a stinging sensation in his left leg three or
+four inches from the heel.
+
+“Look out!” yelled Rutter, more excitedly than before. “Get away
+from there!”
+
+Tom ran some distance down the trail. Then he halted, laughing.
+
+“I wonder what’s on Rut’s mind,” he smiled, as Hazelton joined
+him.
+
+Jack Rutter came at a gallop, reining up hard as he reached where
+Tom had stood.
+
+Again that whirring, clicking sound. Rutter’s pony reared.
+
+“Still, you brute!” commanded Rutter sternly. Then, without waiting
+to see whether his mount would stand alone, Rutter leaped from
+saddle, going forward with his quirt---a rawhide riding whip---uplifted.
+
+Into the brush from which Tom had stepped Rutter went cautiously,
+though he did not lose much time about it.
+
+Swish! swish! swish! sounded the quirt, as Rutter laid it on
+the ground ahead of him. Then he stepped out. The pony had drawn
+back thirty or forty feet and now stood trembling, nostrils distended.
+
+“Is that the way you take your exercise?” Reade demanded.
+
+Rutter, however, came running along the trail, his face white
+as though from worry.
+
+“Reade,” he demanded, “Did that thing strike you?”
+
+“What thing,” asked Tom in wonderment.
+
+“The rattler that I killed!”
+
+“Rattler?” gasped both cub engineers.
+
+“Yes. From the distance I thought I saw it strike out at you.
+There’s a nest of the reptiles at some point near that brush.
+That’s why I warned you to get away from there. Never stand
+in brush, in the Rockies, unless you’ve looked before stepping.
+Were you struck?”
+
+“I believe something did sting me,” Reade admitted, remembering
+that smarting sensation in his left leg.
+
+“Which leg was it? demanded Rutter, halting beside the cub.
+
+“Left---a little above the ankle,” replied Tom.
+
+“Take off your legging. I must have a look. Hazelton, call to
+one of your chainmen and send him back to make sure of my pony.”
+
+Harry hastened to obey, then came back breathless. Rutter, in
+the meantime, had turned up enough of Tom’s left trousers’ leg
+to bare a spot on the flesh that was red. There were fang marks
+in the centre of this reddened surface.
+
+“You got it, boy,” spoke Rutter huskily. “Now we’ll have to go
+to work like lightning to save you.”
+
+“How are you going to do it?” asked Tom coolly, though he felt
+decidedly queer over the startling news.
+
+“Hazelton,” demanded Rutter, turning upon the other cub engineer,
+“have you nerve enough to put your lips to that wound, and draw,
+draw draw as hard as you can, and keep on until you’ve drawn all
+the poison out?”
+
+“I have,” nodded Harry, sinking to his knees beside his chum.
+“I’ll draw all the poison out if I have to swallow enough to
+kill me.”
+
+“You won’t poison yourself, Hazelton,” replied Rutter quickly,
+as one of the chainmen came near with the recaptured pony. “Snake
+venom isn’t deadly in the stomach---only when it gets into the
+blood direct. There’s no danger unless you’ve a cut or a deep
+scratch in your mouth. Spit the stuff out as you draw.”
+
+Having given these directions, Jack Rutter turned, with the help
+of one of the chainmen to fasten a blanket behind the saddle to
+make a sort of extra saddle. The blanket had been lying rolled
+at the back of the saddle.
+
+Harry, in the meantime, without flinching, performed his task
+well. Had he but known it, Rutter’s explanation of the lack of
+danger was true; but in that moment, with his chum’s life at stake,
+Harry didn’t care a fig whether the explanation were true or not.
+All he thought of was saving Tom.
+
+“I reckon that part of the job has been done well,” nodded Rutter,
+turning back from the horse. “Now, Reade, I want you to mount
+behind me and hold on tightly, for we’re going to do some hard,
+swift riding. The sooner we get you to camp the surer you will
+be of coming out of this scrape all right.”
+
+“I’ve never had much experience in horsemanship, and I may out
+a sorry figure at it,” laughed Reade, as, with Harry’s help he
+got up behind Rutter.
+
+“Horsemanship doesn’t count---speed does,” replied Rutter tersely.
+“Hold on tightly, and we’ll make as good time as possible. I’m
+going to start now.”
+
+Away they went, at a hard gallop, Tom doing his best to hold on,
+but feeling like a jumping-jack.
+
+“It won’t take us more than twenty minutes,” promised Jack Rutter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+WHAT A SQUAW KNEW
+
+
+All the way to camp Rutter kept the pony at a hard gallop.
+
+“Thurston! Mr. Thurston!” he shouted. “Be quick, please!”
+
+Even as the young man called, Mr. Thurston ran out of his tent.
+
+“You know something about rattlesnake bites, I believe?” Rutter
+went on hurriedly, as Tom Reade slipped to the ground. “The boy
+has been bitten by one and we’ll have to work quickly.”
+
+“Don’t bring any liquor, though,” objected Reade, leaning up against
+a tree. “If liquor is your cure for snakebites I prefer to take
+my chances with the bite.”
+
+“Get the shoe off and roll up the trousers,” directed the chief
+engineer, without loss of words. “Fortunately, I believe we have
+someone here who knows more about treating the bites than I do.
+Squaw!”
+
+An Indian woman who had been sitting on the grass before the chief’s
+tent, a medley pack of Indian baskets arranged before her, glanced up.
+
+“Snake! You know what to do,” went on Mr. Thurston hurriedly. “You
+know what to do----eh? Pay you well.”
+
+At the last three magic words the aged squaw rose and hobbled quickly
+forward.
+
+“Take boy him tent,” directed the Indian woman.
+
+“I can walk,” remarked Tom.
+
+“No; they take you. Heap better,” commanded the woman.
+
+Instantly Mr. Thurston and Rutter took hold of Tom, raising him
+into their arms. Through the flap of his tent they bore him,
+depositing him on his cot. The Indian woman followed them inside.
+
+“Now you go out,” she ordered, with a sweep of her hand. “Send
+him cookman. Hot water---heap boil.”
+
+Thus ordered, Jake Wren came on the run with a kettle of boiling
+water. The Indian squaw received it with a grunt, ordering that
+bowls and cups be also brought. When Wren came the second time
+he lingered curiously.
+
+“You go out; no see what do,” said the squaw.
+
+So Jake departed, the squaw tying the flap of the tent after he
+had gone. Then, from the bosom of her dress she drew out a few
+small packages of herbs. The contents of these she distributed
+in different bowels and cups.
+
+“I’d like to see what the old witch is doing, and how she’s doing
+it,” declared Rutter in a whisper.
+
+“She’ll stop short if she catches you looking in on her,” replied
+the chief, with a smile. “For some reason these Indians are very
+jealous of their secrets in treating snakebites. They’re wizards,
+though, these same red-skinned savages.”
+
+“You believe, then, that she can pull Reade through?” asked Rutter
+eagerly.
+
+“If she knows her business, and if there’s any such thing as saving
+the boy she’ll do it,” declared Mr. Thurston, as they reached
+the door of the chief’s tent. “Will you come inside, Rutter!
+You look badly broken up.”
+
+“I am, and I shall be, just as long as Reade is in any danger,”
+Rutter admitted. “Reade is a mighty fine boy and I’m fond of
+him. Besides, more than a little of our success in getting the
+road through on time depends on the boy.”
+
+“Is Reade really so valuable, then?”
+
+“He goes over the course, Mr. Thurston, as rapidly as any man
+in our corps, and his work is very accurately done. Moreover,
+he never kicks. If you told him to work half the night, on top
+of a day’s work, he’d do it.”
+
+“Then Reade, if he recovers, must be watched and rewarded for
+anything he does for us,” murmured Mr. Thurston.
+
+“Don’t say, ‘if he recovers,’ chief,” begged Jack. “I hate to
+think of his not pulling through from this snakebite.”
+
+“What became of the reptile that did the trick?” asked Mr. Thurston.
+
+“That crawler will never bite anything else,” muttered Rutter.
+“I got the thing with my riding quirt.”
+
+Not very long after Harry Hazelton reached camp, well in advance
+of the chainmen, for Harry, good school athlete that he was, had
+jog-trotted every step of the way in.
+
+“Where’s Tom?” Hazelton demanded.
+
+“Here,” called a voice from Reade’s tent.
+
+Hazelton turned in that direction, but Mr. Thurston looked out
+from the large tent, calling:
+
+“Don’t go there now, Hazelton. You wouldn’t be admitted. Come here.”
+
+Despite his long run, Harry’s face displayed pallor as he came
+breathlessly into Mr. Thurston’s field abode. In a few words,
+however, the lad was acquainted with the situation as far as it
+had developed.
+
+In the meantime what was the squaw doing with Tom? It must be
+admitted that Reade hadn’t any too clear an idea. The gaunt old
+red woman poured hot water, small quantities at a time, into the
+bowls and cups in which she had distributed the herbs. Then she
+stirred vigorously, in the meantime muttering monotonously in
+her own language.
+
+“She isn’t relying on the herbs alone,” muttered Tom curiously
+to himself. “She’s working up some kind of incantation. I wonder
+what effect she expects an Indian song to have on snake poison?”
+
+Presently the squaw turned, bringing one of the cupfuls to the
+wounded boy.
+
+“Sit up,” she ordered. “Drink!”
+
+Tom nearly dropped it, it was so hot.
+
+“Drink!” repeated the squaw.
+
+“But it’s so hot it’ll burn my gullet out,” remonstrated Reade.
+
+“You know more I do?” demanded the squaw stolidly. “Drink!”
+
+Tom took a sip, and shuddered from the intense heat of the stuff.
+
+“Humph! White man him heap papoose!” muttered the squaw, scornfully.
+“You want live, drink!”
+
+Tom took a longer swallow of the hot stuff. Whew, but it was
+bitter!
+
+“The bronze lady is trying to turn me inside out!” gasped the
+boy to himself.
+
+“Drink---all down!” commanded the squaw with scarcely less scorn
+than before in her voice.
+
+This time Tom took a hard grip on himself and swallowed all the
+liquid. For a moment, he thought the nauseating stuff would kill him.
+
+“Now, eat grass,” ordered the squaw.
+
+“Meaning eat these herbs,” demanded Tom, glancing up.
+
+“Yes. Heap quick.”
+
+“To make a fellow eat these herbs after drinking the brew from
+them is what I call rubbing it in,” grimaced Reade.
+
+“Now, this,” continued the squaw, calmly handing a second cup
+to Tom.
+
+“It’s all right for _you_ to be calm,” thought Tom, as he took
+the cup from her. “All you have to do is to stand by and watch
+me. You don’t have to drink any of these fearful messes.”
+
+However, Tom brought all his will power into play, swallowing
+a second brew, compared with which the first had been delicious.
+
+“Eat this grass, too”? inquired Tom, gazing at the squaw.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Tom obeyed.
+
+“I shall be very, very careful not to meet any more snakes,” he
+shuddered, after getting the second dose down.
+
+Now the squaw busied herself with spreading soaked herbs on a
+piece of cloth that she had torn from one of Tom’s white shirts’
+to which she had helped herself from his dunnage box.
+
+“What’s a dollar shirt, anyway, when an interesting young man’s
+life is at stake” mused Reade. “Ow---ow---ooch!”
+
+“You baby---papoose?” inquired the squaw calmly. She had slapped
+on Tom’s leg, over the bite, a poultice that, to his excited mind,
+was four hundred degrees hotter than boiling water.
+
+“Oh, no,” grimaced Tom. “That’s fine and soothing. But it’s
+growing cool. Haven’t you something hotter?”
+
+Just five seconds later Reade regretted his rashness, for, snatching
+off the first poultice, the squaw slapped on a second that seemed,
+in some way, ten times more powerful---and twenty times hotter.
+
+“It’s queer what an awful amount of heat a squaw can get out of
+a kettle of hot water, thought the suffering boy. I’ll wager
+some of the heat is due to the herbs themselves. O-o-o-o-ow! Ouch!”
+
+For now the third poultice, most powerful of all, was in place,
+and Mrs. Squaw was binding it on as though she intended it never
+to come off.
+
+Two minutes after that Tom Reade commenced to retch violently.
+With a memory of the messes that he had swallowed he didn’t wonder.
+The squaw now stepped outside, calling for coffee. This was
+brought. Tom was obliged to drink several cupfuls, after which
+he began to feel decidedly more comfortable.
+
+“Now, take nap,” advised the squaw, and quitted the tent.
+
+“The bronze lady seems to know what she’s doing,” thought Tom.
+“I guess I’ll take the whole of her course of treatment.” Thereupon
+he turned his face to the wall. Within sixty seconds he slept.
+
+“How’s Reade?” demanded Harry, rising eagerly as the squaw stepped
+inside the chief’s tent.
+
+“He sleep,” muttered the squaw.
+
+“He---he---isn’t dead!” choked Harry, turning deathly pale.
+
+“You think I make death medicine?” demanded the squaw scornfully.
+“You think me heap fool?”
+
+“The young man will be all right, squaw?” asked Mr. Thurston.
+
+“Humph! Maybe,” grunted the red woman. “Yes, I think so. You
+know bimeby.”
+
+“That’s the Indian contempt for death,” explained the chief engineer,
+turning to Harry. “I imagine that Reade is doing all right, or
+she wouldn’t have left him.”
+
+However, Hazelton was not satisfied with that. He slipped out,
+crossed camp and stealthily peeped inside of the tent. Then
+Hazelton slipped back to Mr. Thurston to report.
+
+“If Tom doesn’t swallow some of those big snores of his, and choke
+to death, I think he’ll get well,” said Harry, with a laugh that
+testified to the great relief that had come to his feelings. With
+that all hands had to be content for the time being.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+’GENE BLACK, TROUBLE-MAKER
+
+
+In the morning Tom Reade declared that he was all right. The
+old Indian squaw had pronounced him safe, and had gone on her way.
+
+“You’ll stay in camp today, Reade,” announced Mr. Thurston, dropping
+into the mess tent.
+
+“With all the work there is ahead of us, sir?” cried Reade aghast.
+
+“That’s why you’ll stay,” nodded Mr Thurston. “Your life has
+been saved, but after the shock you had yesterday you’re not as
+strong as you may feel. One day of good rest in camp will fit
+you for what’s ahead of us in the days to come. The strain of
+tramping miles and working like a steam engine all day is not
+to be thought of for you today. Tomorrow you’ll go out with the
+rest.”
+
+Tom sighed. True, he did not feel up to the mark, and was eating
+a very light breakfast. Still he chafed at the thought of inaction
+for a whole day.
+
+“The chief wouldn’t order you to stay in,” remarked Blaisdell,
+after Mr. Thurston had gone, “unless he knew that to be the best
+thing for you.”
+
+So, after the engineers, their chainmen and rodmen had left camp
+Tom wandered about disconsolately. He tried to talk to the cook,
+but Jake and his helper were both rushed in getting the meal that
+was to be taken out over the trail by burro train.
+
+“Lonely, Reade?” called the chief from his tent.
+
+“Yes, sir,” Tom nodded. “I wish I had something to do.”
+
+“Perhaps I can find work for you in here. Come in.”
+
+Tom entered eagerly. Mr. Thurston was seated at the large table,
+a mass of maps and field notes before him.
+
+“How are you on drawing, Reade?” queried his chief.
+
+“Poor, sir.”
+
+“Never had any training in that line?”
+
+“I can draw the lines of a map, sir, and get it pretty straight,
+as far as the mathematics of map-drawing goes,” Tom answered.
+“But another man has to go over my work and put in the fine touches
+of the artist. You know what I mean, sir; the fancy fixings of
+a map.”
+
+“Yes, I know,” nodded Mr. Thurston. “I can sympathize with you, too,
+Reade, for, though I always longed to do artistic platting (map-work)
+I was always like yourself, and could do only the mathematical part of
+it. You can help me at that, however, if you are careful enough. Take a
+seat at that drawing table; and I’ll see what you can do.”
+
+First, Reade stepped to a box that held map paper. Taking out a sheet,
+he placed it on the surface of the drawing table, then stuck in
+thumb-tacks at each of the four corners.
+
+“All ready, sir,” he announced.
+
+Mr. Thurston stepped over with an engineer’s field note book.
+
+“See if these notes are all clear,” directed the chief engineer.
+
+“Yes, sir; I know what the notes call for,” Tom answered confidently.
+
+“Then I’ll show you just what’s wanted Reade,” continued the chief.
+
+After some minutes of explanation Tom picked up the T-square,
+placing the top at the side of the drawing surface. Then against
+the limb of the “T” Tom laid the base of a right-angled triangle.
+Along this edge he drew his perpendicular north-and-south line
+in the upper left-hand corner. He crossed this with a shorter
+line at right angles, establishing his east-and-west line. Mr.
+Thurston, standing at the cub engineer is back, looked on closely.
+
+Tom now settled on his beginning point, and made the dot with
+his pencil. From that point he worked rapidly, making all his
+measurements and dotting his points. Then he began to draw in.
+The chief engineer went back to his table.
+
+After Tom had worked an hour the chief interrupted him.
+
+“Now, Reade, get up and let me sit down there for a little while.
+I want to go over your work.”
+
+For some minutes Mr. Thurston checked off the lad’s work.
+
+“You really know what you are doing, Reade,” he said at last.
+“Your line measurements are right, and your angles tally faultlessly,
+I’m glad I kept you back today. You can help me here even more
+than in the field. Tomorrow, however, I shall have to keep Rice
+back. He’s our ornamental draughtsman, and puts in the fine,
+flowery work on our maps. Here’s some of his work.”
+
+Tom gazed intently at the sheet that Mr. Thurston spread for his
+inspection.
+
+“Rice does it well,” remarked Reade thoughtfully. “You’ve one
+other man in the corps who can do the pretty draughting about as well.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“Hazelton. Harry doesn’t do the mathematical part as easily as
+I do, but he has a fine talent for fancy drawing, sir.”
+
+“Then I’ll try Hazelton tonight,” decided Mr. Thurston aloud.
+“You may go on with your drawing now, Reade. Hello; someone
+is coming into camp.”
+
+Mr. Thurston stepped over to the doorway in time to see a young
+man riding up on a pony.
+
+“Where’s the chief engineer?” called the newcomer.
+
+“You’re looking at him,” replied Mr. Thurston.
+
+The young man, who appeared to be about twenty-eight years of
+age, rode his horse to a near-by tree, then dismounted gracefully
+and tied his mount.
+
+The young man was well-built, dark-haired and smooth-faced, with
+snapping black eyes. There was an easy, half-swaggering grace
+about him suggesting one who had seen much of free life in the
+open air. For one attired for riding in saddle over mountain
+trails the stranger was not a little of a dandy in appearance.
+His khaki trousers and leggings, despite his probably long ride,
+were spotless. His dark-blue flannel shirt showed no speck of
+dust; his black, flowing tie was perfection; his light-hued sombrero
+looked as though it had just left the store.
+
+“If you are Mr. Thurston, I have the honor to present a letter,”
+was the stranger’s greeting as he entered the large tent.
+
+Mr. Thurston glanced at the envelope, reading: “Mr. Eugene Black.”
+
+“Be seated, Mr. Black,” requested the chief, then opened the letter.
+
+“Oh, you’re a new engineer, sent out from the offices in New York,”
+continued the chief.
+
+“Yes,” smiled the newcomer.
+
+“An experienced engineer, the vice-president of the company informs
+me.”
+
+“Six years of experience,” smiled the newcomer, showing his white,
+handsome teeth.
+
+Tom glanced up just in time to see that smile. “Somehow, I don’t
+quite like the looks of Mr. Black,” Reade decided.
+
+“What is your especial line of work, Mr. Black?” Thurston continued.
+
+“Anything in usual field work, sir.”
+
+“This letter states that you expect one hundred and twenty-five
+dollars a month.”
+
+“Then the letter is correct, sir.”
+
+“All right, Mr. Black; we’ll put you at work and let you prove
+that you’re worth it,” smiled Mr. Thurston pleasantly.
+
+“How soon shall I go to work, sir?” asked Black.
+
+“I expect my assistant, Mr. Blaisdell, here in about an hour.
+I’ll send you out with him when he returns to field.”
+
+“Then, if you’re through with me at present, sir, I’ll step outside
+and be within call.”
+
+Tom and his chief were again alone. Reade kept steadily on with
+his work, and no word was spoken for half an hour. Then there
+came a commotion in camp, for four drovers came in with two dozen
+horses that had been ordered for the use of the engineering party.
+
+“Step outside, Reade, and see the horses, if you care to do so,”
+suggested Mr. Thurston, reaching for his sombrero.
+
+“Thank you, sir; but the horses will keep, and I’m greatly interested
+in finishing my drawing so that I can take up more work.”
+
+“That young cub, Reade, is no idler.” thought the chief, as he
+stepped into the open.
+
+Tom kept steadily at work.
+
+Ten minutes later, Thurston still being absent, Eugene Black strolled
+into the tent. He glanced at Tom’s drawing with some contempt,
+then inquired:
+
+“Drawing, boy?”
+
+“Why, not?” laughed Tom. “I’m only one of the stable boys, and,
+as you can see, I’m currying a horse.”
+
+“Stop that sort of nonsense with me, right at the start,” flashed
+Black angrily, striding closer. “I don’t allow boys to be fresh
+with me.”
+
+“Where’s the boy?” drawled Tom, turning slightly, for a better view
+of the stranger’s face.
+
+“You’re one,” snapped Black.
+
+“What are you?” Tom asked curiously.
+
+“I’m an engineer.”
+
+“If that is anything to be chesty about, then I’m an engineer also,”
+Reade replied, rising.
+
+“Sit down, boy!” commanded Black angrily.
+
+The trace of frown on Reade’s face disappeared. He smiled
+good-humoredly as he observed.
+
+“Black, I’m a bit uncertain about you.”
+
+“_Mister_ Black, boy!” warned the other, his dark eyes snapping.
+“Why are you uncertain about me?”
+
+“I’m wondering,” purred Tom gently, “whether you are just _trying_
+to be offensive, or whether you don’t know any better than to talk
+and act the way you do?”
+
+“You young puppy, I’ll teach you something right now,” cried Black,
+stepping closer and raising a clenched fist.
+
+“Look out,” begged Tom. “You’ll upset my drawing table.”
+
+Eugene Black closed in, striking out. Reade who felt that the
+situation didn’t call for any fighting, retreated, still smiling.
+
+Whether by accident or design, Black, as he made a half turn to
+start after the cub engineer anew, brushed a corner of the unstable
+drawing table hard enough to tip it over. A bottle of drawing
+ink fell, too, splashing ugly black blotches over Tom’s carefully
+drawn outlines of a map.
+
+“Now, you’ve done it!” exclaimed Tom.
+
+“I haven’t quite finished,” snapped the stranger, rushing after Reade.
+
+“I’m going to box your ears soundly, boy!”
+
+“Are you, indeed?” demanded Tom, halting. He was still smiling,
+but there was a stern look in his eyes. Tom no longer retreated,
+but stood awaiting Black’s assault.
+
+Blanks fist shot out straight, but Reade didn’t stop the blow.
+Instead, he ducked low. When he came up his arms enveloped Black’s
+legs in one of the swift football tackles that Tom had learned
+with the Gridley High School football team.
+
+“You annoy me,” drawled Tom, and hurled the fellow ten feet away.
+Black landed on his back with an angry roar, followed by cursing.
+
+“Profanity is always objectionable to a gentleman,” declared Tom
+dryly, running over ere the newcomer could regain his feet. Once
+more Reade bent and rose. As he did so, Eugene Black shot through
+the tent doorway, landing on the ground a dozen feet beyond.
+
+Tom stood in the doorway, smiling. Black leaped to his feet.
+
+“You puppy!” gasped Black, sending his right hand back to his
+hip pocket. Tom didn’t wait to see what he would bring out, but
+darted forward. This time he seized the stranger in a dead tackle,
+dropping him over on his back without throwing him.
+
+“Now, roll over,” ordered Reade grimly. “I’m curious to see what
+you have in your pocket. Ah! So---this is it! You’re another
+Peter Bad, are you?”
+
+Tom held in one hand a silver-plated revolver with ivory handle
+that he had snatched out of Black’s pocket.
+
+“I wonder why it is,” mocked Tom, grinning, “that nine out of
+every ten dude tenderfeet from the east come west with one of
+these things.”
+
+Black charged the cub, intent on recapturing his pistol, but Reade
+shot out a foot, tripping him. Then Tom ran nimbly over to the
+cook tent. Here he halted, breaking the weapon at the breech
+and allowing the cartridges to drop into his hand. He transferred
+them to his pocket, then wheeled and picked up Jake’s kitchen
+hatchet.
+
+With a few swift strokes from the head of the hatchet Tom put
+that firearm on the retired list for good.
+
+“Give me my pistol, boy!” choked Black, running up.
+
+“Certainly,” rejoined Reade, wheeling and politely offering the
+ruined firearm. “I don’t want it. I’ve no use for such things”
+
+Black took his weapon, gasped, then, seizing it by the barrel,
+leaped at Tom, intent on battering his head.
+
+“Here, what’s the trouble?” cried Mr. Thurston, appearing around
+the corner of the cook house and promptly seizing Black by the
+collar of his flannel shirt.
+
+“Nothing much, sir,” laughed Tom. “Mr. Black has just been showing
+me how bad men behave out in this part of the country.”
+
+“This boy is a troublesome cub, Mr. Thurston,” declared Black
+hotly. “Do you see what he has done to my revolvers”
+
+“How did Reade come to have it?” inquired Mr. Thurston.
+
+“He snatched it away from me.”
+
+“Reade, is this true?” demanded the chief engineer, turning to
+the youth.
+
+“Yes, sir; as far as the story goes.”
+
+“Tell me the whole truth of this affair,” ordered Mr. Thurston
+sternly.
+
+Tom started to do so, modestly, but Black broke in angrily at
+points in the narrative.
+
+“The principal thing that I have against Mr. Black,” Tom said,
+“is that he spoiled all my drawing work of this morning.”
+
+“Yes; but how did I come to do it?” insisted the newcomer. “You
+pushed me against your drawing table.”
+
+Tom started with astonishment.
+
+“My friend,” he remarked, “Baron Munchausen never had anything
+on you!”
+
+“Careful, Reade! Don’t pass the lie,” ordered the chief engineer
+sternly. “I shall look fully into this matter, but at present
+I’m inclined to believe that you’re more at fault than is Black.
+Return to the tent and start your drawing over again.”
+
+There was a smile again on Tom’s face as he turned back to make
+his spoiled work good.
+
+Mr. Thurston went back to his inspection of the ponies. Later,
+the chief engineer was able to pick up some details of the trouble
+from Jake Wren, who had seen Black reach for his revolver.
+
+“Understand two things, Mr. Black,” said the chief briskly. “In
+the first place, it is not expected that the engineers of this
+corps will find any real cause for fighting. Second, I will tolerate
+no pistol nonsense here.”
+
+Then he went back to Tom Reade and spoke to him more quietly.
+
+“Reade, if Black doesn’t turn out to be a valuable man here he
+won’t last long. If he is a good man, then you will find it necessary,
+perhaps, to use a little tact in dealing with him. Did you notice
+what snapping black eyes the man has? Men with such black eyes
+are usually impulsive. Remember that.”
+
+“I never thought of that before, sir,” Tom admitted dryly. “I
+really didn’t know that people with black eyes are impulsive.
+This I do know, however, people who are too impulsive generally
+get black eyes!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+“DOCTORED” FIELD NOTES?
+
+
+There was no more trouble---immediately. When the other engineers
+heard of the row---which news they obtained through Jake, not
+from Reade---they soon made it plain to ’Gene Black that Tom Reade
+was a favorite in the corps. Black was therefore treated with
+a coldness that he strove hard to overcome.
+
+In the matter of being a capable civil engineer ’Gene Black speedily
+proved himself efficient. Assistant Chief Engineer Blaisdell
+soon reported at headquarters that the new member of the corps
+was an exceedingly valuable man. Black was therefore placed at
+the head of a leveling squad that obtained the field notes from
+which were to be estimated the cost of making excavations in several
+cuts that must be made ere the coming tracks could be laid.
+
+In the days that passed Tom and Harry saw little of the field
+work. They were kept at the chief’s tent. Hence Reade had but
+little to do with ’Gene Black, which may have been fortunate,
+as Tom still retained his first instinctive dislike for the black-eyed
+fellow.
+
+<tb>
+
+“Reade and Hazelton, you two young men are going to forge ahead
+rapidly, and you are sure to earn good salaries, if you don’t
+make the too common mistake of young engineers first starting
+out,” Mr. Thurston told the cubs one forenoon.
+
+“And what is that mistake, sir, if you please?” Tom queried.
+
+“Don’t make the mistake of getting too large an idea of the value
+of your services,” replied the chief. “Just work hard all the
+time and be wholly unassuming.
+
+“I think we can follow that advice, sir,” Tom replied, with a
+smile.
+
+“If you can, you’ll get along rapidly. I have already written
+to our officers in New York, thanking them for having sent you
+two young men.”
+
+“Here’s the map I have just finished, sir,” said Harry, rising
+from his drawing table on which were arranged the various draughtsman’s
+inks and washes---the latter being thin solutions of water colors
+with which some parts of the maps were colored.
+
+“Very handsomely done, Hazelton. Reade, what are you doing?”
+
+“I’m at work on Black’s field notes of the leveling,” Tom answered.
+
+“I am very much pleased with Black’s work,” replied Mr. Thurston.
+“His notes show that we are going to get out of the excavating
+in the cuts at about one third of the trouble and expense that
+I had looked for.”
+
+“Black’s field notes certainly do look good, sir, for they show
+that you can get the work through on this division in much less
+time than you had supposed.”
+
+As he turned around to speak, Tom sat where he could easily see
+the colored field map that Harry had just turned in to the chief.
+
+“Hold on, there, Harry,” Tom objected.
+
+“You’ve lined in a pretty high hill on Section Nineteen. You’ll
+have to cut that down a bit.”
+
+“The surveyor’s field notes call for that hill,” Hazelton retorted.
+
+“But, as it happens,” objected Tom, “I’m just working out the
+profile drawing of Section Nineteen from Black’s notes. See here-----”
+Tom rested a pencil point on a portion of the hill depicted on
+Hazelton’s map. “You’ve drawn that pretty steep. Now, as you’ll
+see by Black’s notes, the upgrade at that point is only a three
+per cent. grade.”
+
+“Humph! It’s all of an eight per cent. grade,” grunted Hazelton.
+“See, here are the surveyor’s field notes.”
+
+“Three per cent. grade,” insisted Tom, holding forward Black’s
+leveling notes.
+
+“There’s a difference there, then, that must be reconciled,” broke
+in Mr. Thurston, rising, a look of annoyance on his face. “We
+can’t have any such disagreement as that between the field map
+and the profile sheet. Let us find out, at once, where the trouble
+lies.”
+
+Yet the more the three pondered over the matter the greater became
+the puzzle. The notes of the surveyor, Matt Rice, and of the
+leveler, ’Gene Black, were at utter variance.
+
+“We must get hold of these men as soon as they come in tonight,”
+exclaimed Mr. Thurston, much disturbed. “We must find out just
+which one is at fault.”
+
+“Rice is a very reliable man, sir,” spoke up Tom.
+
+“Yes; but Blaisdell reports that Black thoroughly understands
+his work, too,” grumbled the chief. “We must settle this tonight.”
+
+“May I make a suggestion, sir?” asked Tom.
+
+“Certainly. Go ahead.”
+
+“There is no use, sir, in my going ahead with this profile drawing,
+if there’s a chance that the sights turned in by Black are wrong.
+Until we know, my time at this drawing board may all be wasted.
+Trotter, one of the rodmen, is in camp today. I might take him,
+and a level along, and go over the foresights and backsights myself.
+All of the stakes will be in place. In two hours I ought to
+have a very good set of leveling notes. Then I can bring them
+back and compare them with Black’s sights.”
+
+“Can you run a level well?” inquired Mr. Thurston.
+
+“Of course I can, sir. It’s simple enough work, and I’ve done
+a good bit of it in the east.”
+
+“Go along, then, and see if you can throw any light on this,”
+sighed the disturbed chief.
+
+“Reade really ought to have two rodmen,” broke in Harry eagerly.
+“May I go along, sir, to serve as the other rodman?”
+
+“Run along,” assented Mr. Thurston. “Remember, boys, I can’t
+go any further until this tangle is settled. Come back as speedily
+as you can.”
+
+Tom and Harry snatched up their sombreros, hurrying forth. Trotter
+was found readily, and was ordered to saddle three ponies. Tom
+busied himself in picking out the best leveling instrument in
+camp, while Hazelton secured the rods and a chain. Then the party
+set forth in Indian file, Tom riding in advance.
+
+A trot of half an hour brought them to Section Nineteen. Here
+Tom speedily adjusted his instrument, taking up his post over
+the first stake at the bottom of the hill.
+
+Leveling is not difficult work, though it calls for some judgment
+and a good deal of care. For instance, when Tom set his telescope
+exactly level and took a reading of the rod at the second stake,
+which Harry held, he read the height as eight feet and four inches.
+Then he trudged forward, carrying his instrument, while Trotter
+held his rod exactly perpendicular over the first stake. From
+the second stake Tom sighted back through his telescope, reading
+two feet three inches. The difference between these two readings
+was six feet and one inch, showing that, for the distance between
+first and second stakes the rise in the hillside was six feet
+one inch. Thereupon Reade turned and sighted, from stake number
+two to stake number three, noting in his book the reading he secured
+from the rod at number three. Once at number three he turned
+his telescope backward, taking a reading from Trotter’s rod at
+number two. Ten stakes were thus covered, and not only were the
+foresights and backsights read and recorded, but the distance
+between each pair of stakes was measured with the chain and the
+distances entered on the record.
+
+At stake number ten Tom halted.
+
+“Harry,” he directed, “you take Black’s leveling notes and hold
+them while I read my own notes. Stop me every time that you note
+a difference between the two records.”
+
+After that Harry steadily stopped his chum at every reading.
+By the time that they had finished the comparisons Hazelton’s
+face looked blank from sheer astonishment.
+
+“Why, every single one of Blacks foresights and backsights is
+wrong!” gasped Harry. “And yet Mr. Blaisdell reported that ’Gene
+Black is such a fine engineer.”
+
+Tom turned to make sure that Trotter was resting out of hearing
+before he replied:
+
+“Harry, Black isn’t such a fool as to bring in an absolutely wrong
+record of sights, and yet do it innocently. If he didn’t do it
+unintentionally, then he must have tangled the record purposely.”
+
+“But why should he do it purposely?” Harry insisted. “He would
+know that, sooner or later, his blunders or lies would be discovered,
+and that he would be discharged. Now, Black really wants to hold
+his job with this outfit.”
+
+“Does he?” asked Tom bluntly.
+
+“Why, what do you mean?”
+
+“I don’t know,” Reade confessed. “I never heard of any such bungle
+as this before by an engineer. Why, Harry, this hillside averages
+an eight and a third grade, yet Black’s field notes show it to
+be only a three per cent. grade. Hang it, the fellow must have
+played the trick purposely!”
+
+“Yet why?” pressed Hazelton.
+
+“I’ll admit that I can’t understand. Unless, well---unless-----”
+
+“Say it!”
+
+“Unless Black joined this outfit with the express purpose of
+queering all the work of the entire corps as he could easily
+do. Harry, do you think that Black could possibly be serving
+with this outfit as the paid tool of the rival road, the W.C.
+& A.? Can he be the enemy’s spy within our lines---sent to prevent
+our finishing the road on time?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THINGS BEGIN TO GO DOWN HILL
+
+
+“I suppose I’m thick,” Harry murmured. “How would Black, by turning
+in some wrong backsights and foresights, expect to delay the building
+of the road, even if he wanted to do it?”
+
+“How?” repeated Tom Reade, showing an amount of heat and excitement
+that he rarely displayed. “Why, Harry, this same old Section
+Nineteen is one of the hard spots on the road. A lot of excavating
+has to be done before the tracks can be laid here. It’s not a
+mere matter of scooping up dirt and removing it, either. A large
+amount of solid rock has to be blasted out here before the roadbed
+can be laid.”
+
+“I know it,” Harry nodded.
+
+“Well, then, at the present moment our chief, Mr. Thurston, is
+preparing the estimates for the work that must be done. On his
+estimates will be based the strength of the laboring gangs that
+must come forward to do the work.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then, suppose that Mr. Thurston has been misled into making a
+certain estimate as to the number of thousand cubic yards of stuff
+that must be taken out of the outs that are to be made. After
+he gets his laborers here, and at work, he finds that he has at
+least three times as much rock and dirt to get out-----”
+
+“I see,” cried Hazelton. “Before the chief could get men and
+wagons, and make all necessary changes in the work, the time would
+have slipped by so far that the finishing of the road would be
+blocked.”
+
+“And the S.B. & L. would lose its charter,” finished Tom grimly.
+
+“It’s mighty lucky that we came out here today, then,” exclaimed
+Hazelton, now fully alive to the danger that menaced their employers.
+“Come, we must hustle back to camp and show Mr. Thurston how
+he has been imposed on. There can’t be a doubt that ’Gene Black
+has been deliberately crooked.”
+
+“Go slowly,” advised Tom. “Don’t be in a rush to call any other
+man a crook. Mr. Thurston can hear our report. Then he can look
+into it himself and form his own opinion. That’s as far as we
+have any right to go in the matter.”
+
+“Thurston is at fault in not having come out here himself,” Harry
+continued. “The chief engineer in charge of a job should know
+every foot of the way.”
+
+“Thurston, from the nature of his own work, is obliged to leave
+much of the detail to his assistant, Mr. Blaisdell,” Tom explained.
+
+“Then why doesn’t Blaisdell look out that no such treacherous
+work is done by any member of the engineer corps?” flared Harry.
+
+“’Gene Black is plainly a very competent man,” Reade argued.
+“The work has had to be rushed of late, and, on so simple a matter
+as leveling, I don’t suppose Blaisdell has thought it at all necessary
+to dig into Black’s field notes.”
+
+“I hope Black is fired out of this outfit, neck and crop!” finished
+Hazelton.
+
+“That’s something with which we have nothing to do,” Reade retorted.
+“Harry, we’ll confine ourselves to doing our work well and reporting
+our results. Mr. Thurston is intelligent enough to form all his
+own conclusions when he has our report. Come, it’s high time
+for us to be putting the ponies to real speed on the trail back.”
+
+Not long afterwards the young engineers rode into the engineer
+camp. Harry dismounted, seating himself on the ground, while
+Tom hurried toward the chief’s big tent.
+
+It was Blaisdell who sat in the chief’s chair when Tom entered.
+
+“Oh, hello, Reade,” was the assistant’s pleasant greeting.
+
+“Where’s the chief?”
+
+“Gone back to the track builders. You know, they’re within fourteen
+miles of us now.”
+
+“When will Mr. Thurston be back?”
+
+“I don’t know,” Blaisdell answered. “In the meantime, Reade, you
+know, I’m acting chief here.”
+
+“I beg your pardon,” Tom murmured hastily.
+
+“The chief told me, just before leaving, that you thought some of
+Black’s sights on Section Nineteen are wrong,” Blaisdell pursued.
+
+“They’re all wrong,” Reade rejoined quietly.
+
+“_All_?” echoed Blaisdell, opening his eyes very wide.
+
+“Yes, sir; everyone of them.”
+
+“Come, come, Reade!” remonstrated the acting chief. “Don’t try
+to amuse yourself with me. All of the sights can’t be wrong.”
+
+“But they are, sir. Hazelton and I have been over them most carefully
+in the field. Here are _our_ notes, sir. Look them over and
+you’ll find that Section Nineteen calls for three or four times
+as much excavating as Black’s notes show.”
+
+“This is strange!” mused Blaisdell, after comparing the two sets
+of notes. “I can’t credit it. Reade, you and Hazelton are very
+young---mere cubs, in fact. Are you sure that you know all you
+owlet to know about leveling?”
+
+“Mr. Blaisdell, I’ll answer you by saying, sir, that though Hazelton
+and I are nothing but cubs, we have the success of this railroad
+building game at heart. We’re deeply in earnest. We’ll work
+ourselves to our very bones in order to see this road get through
+in time. I don’t ask you, sir, to take our word about these sights,
+but we both beg you, sir, to go out with a gang of men and go
+over some of the work yourself. Keep on surveying, sir, until
+you’re satisfied that Black is wrong and that Hazelton and I are
+right. You know what it would mean, sir, if we’re right and you
+don’t find it out in time. Then you simply couldn’t get the cut
+through Section Nineteen in time and the S.B. & L. would lose
+its charter.”
+
+“By Jove, you’re right,” muttered Blaisdell uneasily, as he slowly
+stood up. “Reade, I’m going to take men and go out, carrying
+your notes and Black’s. Let me warn you, however, that if I find
+that Black is right and you’re wrong, then it will give you two
+cubs such a black eye that the chief will run you out of camp.”
+
+“If we had made any such gigantic blunder as that,” returned Tom
+firmly, “then we’d deserve to be run out. We wouldn’t have the
+nerve to put in another night in camp.”
+
+“Hey, you, don’t unsaddle those ponies. Hold yourselves ready
+to go out,” called Blaisdell from the doorway of the tent.
+
+“Will you give us our orders on drawing before you go, sir?” asked
+Reade.
+
+“No,” smiled Blaisdell. “If you’ve made a blunder out on Nineteen,
+then you’re not to be trusted with drawing. Wait until I return.
+Take it easy until then.”
+
+“Very good.”
+
+“And---Reade!”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Neither you nor Hazelton are to let a word cross your lips regarding
+the disagreement over Section Nineteen.”
+
+“You’ll never have any trouble, sir, over our talking when we ought
+not to do it,” promised Reade.
+
+Two minutes later the assistant engineer rode out with a pair of
+rodmen whom he picked up on the way to Nineteen.
+
+“What happened?” asked Harry, coming into the big tent.
+
+Tom told him all that had taken place, adding the caution that
+nothing was to be said about the matter for the present.
+
+“Whew! I wish Mr. Blaisdell had let me go along,” murmured Hazelton.
+“I’d like to have seen his face when he finds out!”
+
+Hearing footsteps approaching outside, Reade signaled for silence.
+Then the flap of the tent was pulled back and Bad Pete glanced in.
+
+“Howdy, pardners?” was the greeting from the bad man, that caused
+Tom Reade almost to fall from his campstool.
+
+“How are you, Peter?” returned Tom. “This is, indeed, a pleasure.”
+
+“Where’s the boss?” continued Bad Pete.
+
+“If you mean Mr. Thurston, he’s away.”
+
+“Where’s Blaisdell, then?”
+
+“He hit the trail, just a few minutes ago,” Tom responded.
+
+“Then I suppose you have no objections if I sit in here a while?”
+
+“Peter,” replied Tom solemnly, “you’ll be conferring a great honor
+on us.”
+
+The bad man’s present mood was so amiable that Harry did not deem
+it desertion to go outside. Bad Pete had his cartridge belt restocked
+with sure-enough cartridges, and his revolver swung as jauntily
+in its holster as ever. Pete seemed to have no idea, however, of
+trying to terrify anyone with his hardware.
+
+“You’ve been away?” suggested Tom, by way of making conversation,
+after an awkward silence had endured for nearly two minutes.
+
+“Yep,” admitted the bad one. “Pardner, it seems like home to
+get back. Do you know, Reade, I’ve taken a big liking to you?”
+
+“Peter,” protested Tom, “if you don’t look out you’ll make me
+the vainest cub on earth.”
+
+“I mean it,” asserted Pete. “Pardner, I’ve a notion me and you
+are likely to become big friends.”
+
+“I never dared to hope for so much,” breathed Tom, keeping back
+a laugh.
+
+“’Cause,” continued Bad Pete, “I reckon you’re one of the kind
+that never goes back on a real pardner.”
+
+“I should hope not,” Tom assured him.
+
+“Have a cigar?” urged Pete, doffing his sombrero and taking out
+a big, black weed that he tendered the cub.
+
+“What’s the matter with it?” asked Tom curiously.
+
+For just a second Bad Pete’s eyes flashed. Then he choked back
+all signs of anger as he drawled:
+
+“The only matter with this cigar, pardner, is that it’s a gen-u-wine
+Havana cigar.”
+
+“I couldn’t tell it from a genuine Baltimore,” asserted Tom.
+“But I suppose that is because I never smoked.”
+
+“You never smoked? Pardner, you’ve got a lot to learn,” replied
+Bad Pete, as he put the cigar back in his hat and replaced the
+latter on his head. “And, while we’re talking about such matters,
+pardner, you might just hand me a twenty for a few days.”
+
+“Twenty dollars?” returned Tom. “Peter, until payday gets around
+I won’t have twenty cents.”
+
+Bad Pete gazed at the cub keenly.
+
+“Fact!” Tom assured him.
+
+“Huh!” grunted Pete, rising. “I’ve been wasting my time on a pauper!”
+
+Saying which, he stalked out.
+
+Tom discreetly repressed his desire to laugh. Hazelton glided
+into the tent, grinning.
+
+“Tom, be careful not to string Bad Pete so hard, or, one of these
+days, you’ll get him so mad that he won’t be able to resist drilling
+you through with lead.”
+
+“Let’s go over to the cook tent and either beg or steal something
+to eat,” proposed Reade.
+
+It was two hours later when a rodman rode hurriedly into camp.
+
+“Hey, you cubs,” he called, “come and help me get Mr. Blaisdell’s
+bed ready for him. He’s coming back sick.”
+
+“Sick?” demanded Reade, thunderstruck. “Why, he looked healthy
+enough when he went out of camp a little while ago.”
+
+“He’s sick enough, now,” retorted the rodman.
+
+“What ails Mr. Blaisdell?” asked Harry.
+
+“It’s mountain fever, I reckon,” rejoined the rodman. “Blaisdell
+must have been off color for days, and didn’t really know it.”
+
+All three worked rapidly getting everything in readiness for the
+coming of the assistant engineer. Then Mr. Blaisdell was brought
+in, on a stretcher rigged between two ponies. The acting chief
+is face was violently flushed, his eyes seemed bright as diamonds.
+
+“Reade,” said the acting chief thickly, as they lifted him from
+the litter to his cot, “if I’m not better by morning you’ll have
+to get word to the chief.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” assented Reade, placing a hand on Blaisdell’s forehead.
+It felt hot and feverish. “May I ask, sir, if you verified any
+of the sights on Nineteen?”
+
+“I---I took some of ’em,” replied the acting chief hesitatingly.
+“Reade, I’m not sure that I remember aright, but I think---I
+think---you and Hazelton were correct about that. I---wish I
+could---remember.”
+
+Bill Blaisdell closed his eyes, and his voice trailed off into
+murmurs that none around him could understand. Even Reade, with
+his very slight experience in such matters, realized that the
+acting chief was a very sick man.
+
+“You cubs better clear out of here now,” suggested one of the
+rodmen. “I know better how to take care of men with mountain fever.”
+
+“I hope you do know more about nursing than I do, Carter,” replied
+Tom very quietly. “In the future, however, don’t forget that,
+though I may be a cub, I am an engineer, and you are a rodman.
+When you speak to me address me as Mr. Reade. Come, men, all
+out of here but the nurse.”
+
+Once in the open Tom turned to Harry with eyes ablaze.
+
+“Harry, could anything be tougher? The chief away, the acting
+chief down with fever and on the verge of delirium---and a crooked
+engineer in our crowd who’s doing his best to sell out the S.B.
+& L.---bag, baggage and charter!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE CHIEF TOTTERS FROM COMMAND
+
+
+It was not like Tom Reade to waste time in wondering what to do.
+
+“Harry,” he continued, once more turning upon his chum, “I want
+you to get a pony saddled as fast as you can. You know that the
+telegraph wire is being brought along as fast as it can be done.
+This morning I heard Rutter say that it was hardly five miles
+back of us on the trail. Get into saddle, wire the chief at the
+construction camp, and bring back his orders as fast as you can
+ride.”
+
+Hazelton replied only with a nod, then broke into a sprint for
+the spot where the saddle animals were tethered. Two minutes
+later Harry, though not a crack horseman, left camp at a gallop.
+
+In Blaisdell’s tent matters dragged along. Ice was needed, but
+none was to be had. Cloths were wrung out in spring water and
+applied to the sick man’s head. Within half an hour Tom received
+word that the acting chief was “out of his head.”
+
+Later on Hazelton galloped back into camp bearing this despatch:
+
+“Reade, Engineer Corps.
+Take charge of camp until Rutter returns. Then turn over charge
+to him. Rush for the nearest physician; engage him to remain
+at camp and look after Blaisdell. I return tonight.
+(Signed) Thurston, Chief Engineer.”
+
+“Men,” called Tom striding over to the little party of rodmen,
+“tell me where the nearest physician is to be found.”
+
+“Doe Jitney, at Bear’s Cave,” replied one of the men.
+
+“How far is that?”
+
+“Fourteen miles, by the trail.”
+
+“Get on to a pony, then, and go after Dr. Gitney. Bring him here
+and tell him we’ll want him here for the present. Tell the doctor
+to bring all the medicines he’ll need, and both of you ride fast.”
+
+“I’m not going on your orders,” retorted the man sullenly.
+
+“Yes, you are,” Tom informed him promptly. “I’m in charge, for
+the present, and acting under Mr. Thurston’s orders. If you don’t
+go, you won’t eat any more in this camp, or draw any more pay
+here. It’s work or jump for you---and discharge if you lose or
+waste any time on the way. Mr. Blaisdell’s life is at stake.
+Rustle!”
+
+The man so ordered scowled, but he rose, went over and saddled
+a pony and rode out of camp.
+
+“That part is attended to,” sighed Tom. “Hang it, I wish we could
+get hold of some ice. I don’t know much, but I do know that ice
+is needed in high fevers. I wonder if anyone here knows where
+ice can be had? By Jove, there’s Peter! He knows more about
+this country than anyone else around here.”
+
+It was now within an hour of the time when the engineer parties
+might be expected hack into camp. Reade, however, was not of
+the sort to lose an hour needlessly.
+
+Tom had just caught sight of Bad Pete as the latter stepped through
+a little gully an eighth of a mile below the trail and vanished
+into some green brush.
+
+“I’ll run after him,” Tom decided. “Pete wants a little money,
+and this will be a chance for him to earn it---if he can find
+some man to drive a load of ice to camp.”
+
+Being a trained runner, Tom did not consume much time in nearing
+the spot where he had last seen Bad Pete. The lad put two fingers
+up to his mouth, intending to whistle, when he heard a twig snap
+behind him. Tom turned quickly, then, warned by some instinct,
+stepped noiselessly behind high brush. The newcomer was ’Gene
+Black.
+
+“Pete!” called Black softly.
+
+“Oy!” answered a voice some distance away.
+
+“That you, Pete?” called the engineer.
+
+“Yep.”
+
+“Then close in here. I have doings for you.”
+
+Tom Reade should have stepped out into sight. He was neither
+spy nor eavesdropper. For once, something within urged him to
+keep out of sight and silent.
+
+“Where be you, pardner?” called Pete’s voice, nearer at hand now.
+
+“Right here, Pete,” called Black.
+
+“What do you want, pardner?” demanded the bad man, coming through
+the brush.
+
+“Lend me a couple of hundred dollars, Pete,” laughed ’Gene Black.
+
+“Did you call me here for any such fool talk as that?” scowled Pete.
+
+“No,” Black admitted. “Pete, I don’t believe you have two hundred
+dollars. But you’d like to have. Now, wouldn’t you!”
+
+“Two hundred silver bricks,” retorted Bad Pete, his eyes gleaming,
+“is the price of shooting up a whole town. Pardner, just get me an
+extra box of cartridges and lead me to that town! But have you got
+the money?”
+
+“Yes,” laughed Black, holding up a roll of greenbacks. “This
+and more, too!”
+
+Bad Pete surveyed the money hungrily.
+
+“Some men who know me,” he muttered thickly, “would be afraid
+to show me a whole bankful of money when there was no one else
+looking.”
+
+“I’m not afraid of you, Pete,” replied Black quietly. “You might
+shoot me, if you felt you could get away with it. Do you notice
+that my left hand is in my pocket! I’m a left-handed shooter,
+you see.”
+
+Pete glanced covertly at that bulging left trousers’ pocket of
+the engineer.
+
+“You won’t have to do anything like that to get the money, Pete.
+Save your cartridges for other people. There, I’ve let go of
+my gun. Come close and listen to what I have to say---but only
+in your ear.”
+
+There followed some moments of whisperings Try as he would, Reade
+could not make out a word of what was being said until at last
+Bad Pete muttered audibly, in a low, hoarse voice:
+
+“You’re not doing that on your own account, Black?”
+
+“No, Pete; I’m not.”
+
+“Then you must really be working for the road that wants to steal
+the charter away---the W.C. & A.?”
+
+“Perhaps so, Pete. You don’t need to know that. All you have
+to know is what I want done. I’m a business man, Pete, and money
+is the soul of business. Here!”
+
+Black peeled some banknotes from his roll.
+
+“Ten twenties, Pete. That makes the two hundred I was talking
+to you about. Understand, man, that isn’t your pay. That’s simply
+your expense money, for you to spend while you’re hanging about.
+Stick to me, do things just as I want them done, and your pay
+will run several times as high as your expense money.”
+
+“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for this sort o’ thing,
+pardner?” Pete inquired huskily.
+
+“No; of course not,” rejoined ’Gene Black rather impatiently.
+
+“All my life,” returned Bad Pete solemnly. “Pardner, I’ll sell
+myself to you for the money you’ve been talking about.”
+
+“Come along, then. We’re too near the camp. I want to talk with
+you where we’re not so likely to be interfered with by people who
+have too much curiosity.”
+
+“If that means me,” quoth Tom Reade inwardly, “the shoe fits to
+a nicety.”
+
+Tom followed the pair for a little way, with a stealth that was
+born in him for the present need. Then the plotters stepped into
+a rocky, open gully, where the cub engineer could not have followed
+without being seen.
+
+“Oh, dear! I never wanted to follow anyone as much in my life!”
+groaned Reade in his disappointment.
+
+There was nothing to do but to go back. Then, too, with a guilty
+start, Tom remembered the great need of ice for poor, fever-tossed,
+big-hearted Bill Blaisdell, who had been so kind to the two cubs
+from the hour of their arrival in the field camp.
+
+Just as he stepped into the camp area Tom espied Jack Rutter,
+who also saw him and came quickly forward.
+
+“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Reade,” said Rutter, in
+a tone that was close to carrying reproach with it.
+
+“I’ve been absent on real business, Rutter,” Tom answered, with
+a flush, nevertheless. “Mr. Blaisdell must have ice a lot of it.”
+
+“Great Scott! Where shall we find it in these mountains in midsummer?”
+Rutter demanded.
+
+“We’ve got to have it, haven’t we?” Tom urged. “It will be the
+first thing that the doctor will call for.”
+
+“Then he should bring it with him,” returned Rutter.
+
+“Would you want the doctor to be hampered with a ton or so of
+ice!” asked Reade.
+
+“Would we need that much?” Rutter seemed hopelessly ignorant in
+such matters.
+
+“I imagine we’d want a lot of it,” Tom answered. “By the way,
+Mr. Rutter-----”
+
+“Well?” Jack inquired.
+
+Tom was on the point of giving a hint of what he had heard in
+the gully during the meeting between Black and Bad Pete. Then,
+on second thought, the cub engineer decided to hold that news
+for the ear of Mr. Thurston alone.
+
+“What were you going to say?” pressed Rutter.
+
+“Probably Hazelton has told you,” Tom continued, “that you’re
+in charge here until Mr. Thurston arrives.”
+
+“Yes; and I’m mighty glad that the chief will be here before daylight
+tomorrow,” returned Jack. “I may be a fair sort of engineer, but I’m
+not cut out for a chief engineer.”
+
+Later, one of the rodmen was sent to guide Harry to the nearest
+small town, twenty-eight miles away, for ice. If they succeeded
+in obtaining it they might be back by dark of the following day.
+
+Supper in camp was a gloomy meal. No one felt light-hearted.
+
+“Mr. Rutter,” asked Tom, approaching the temporary chief, soon
+after the evening meal, “what do you want Hazelton and myself
+to do this evening?”
+
+“Don’t ask me,” returned Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+“What have you been doing? Drawing?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Why don’t you go on with it?”
+
+“We’re at a point where we need orders, for we’ve had to lay down
+one part of the work while waiting for further instructions.”
+
+“I can’t help you any, then,” replied Rutter. “Sorry, but before
+I could give any orders I’d need a few myself.”
+
+At eleven o’clock that night Dr. Gitney arrived, with saddle-bags
+full of medicines and other necessaries. He saw Blaisdell, and
+pronounced the assistant engineer a very sick man.
+
+Shortly after midnight Mr. Thurston rode into camp. He tottered
+from saddle and reeled until Tom, on the lookout for him, ran
+forward and supported the chief engineer to his tent.
+
+Then Dr. Gitney was sent for and came.
+
+“Your chief has mountain fever, too,” said the medical attendant
+to Tom, after stepping outside the tent.
+
+“How long will it take them to get well?” asked Wade anxiously.
+
+“Weeks! Hard to say,” replied the physician vaguely.
+
+“Weeks!” groaned Tom Reade. “And the camp now in charge of Jack
+Rutter, who’s a fine workman but no leader! Doc Gitney doesn’t
+know it, but he has sentenced the S.B. & L. railroad to death!”
+
+It was a trying situation. The cub engineer felt it keenly, for
+he had set his heart on seeing the S.B. & L. win out over its rival.
+
+Then, too, all in a flash, the memory of ’Gene Black’s treachery
+to his employers came back to the mind of Tom Reade.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+FROM CUB TO ACTING CHIEF
+
+
+Tom didn’t sleep that night. He sat by, silently, in the big
+tent, nursing the patient as Dr. Gitney directed.
+
+In the morning, at five, Matt Rice came. Tom gladly surrendered
+the post to him and took a scant hour of deep slumber on the bare
+ground outside.
+
+“Wake up, Reade,” ordered Rutter, at last shaking the cub and
+hauling him to his feet. “This is no place to sleep. Go to your
+tent and stretch out full length on your cot.”
+
+“On my cot?” demanded Tom, rubbing his eyes fiercely. “You can’t
+spare me from the day’s work?”
+
+“I don’t believe there will be any day’s work,” Rutter answered.
+
+“You’re in charge, man! You must put us to work,” Tom insisted.
+
+“I don’t know just what ought to be done,” complained Rutter.
+“I shall have to wait for orders.”
+
+“Orders?” repeated Tom, in almost breathless scorn. “From whom
+can you get orders?”
+
+“Howe is Thurston’s assistant at the lower camp,” Rutter rejoined.
+“He’ll have to come over here and take real charge. I’m going
+to send a messenger to the telegraph station and wire Mr. Howe
+to come here at once.”
+
+“See here, Rutter,” blazed Tom insistently, “Mr Howe is in charge of
+the construction forces. He’s laying the bed and the tracks. He
+can’t be spared from the construction work for even a day, or the
+road will fail to get through, no matter what we do here. Man,
+you’ve simply got to be up and doing! Make some mistakes, if you
+have to, but don’t lie down and kill the S.B. & L. with inaction.”
+
+“Cub,” laughed Rutter good-humoredly, “you speak as if this were
+a big personal matter with you.”
+
+“Oh, isn’t it, thought” retorted Tom Reade with spirit. “My whole
+heart is centered on seeing the S.B. & L. win out within the time
+granted by its charter. Rutter, if you don’t take hold with a
+rush and make a live, galloping start with your new responsibilities,
+I’m afraid I’ll go wild and assault you violently!”
+
+“Ha, ha, ha!” Jack laughed loudly.
+
+“Here, stop that cackling,” ordered Reade in the same low voice
+that he had been using. “Let’s get away from the chief’s tent.
+We’ll disturb him with our noise.”
+
+Dr. Gitney, entering the big tent five minutes later, found Mr.
+Thurston very much awake, for he had heard the low-voiced conversation
+outside the tent. Mr. Thurston was not quite as ill as was Blaisdell,
+and had not as yet reached the stage of delirium.
+
+“Doctor, I want you to summon the engineer corps here,” begged
+the patient.
+
+“When you’re better,” replied the doctor, with a hand on the sick
+man’s pulse.
+
+“Doc, you’d better let me have my way,” insisted Mr. Thurston
+in a weak voice. “If you don’t, you’ll make me five times more
+ill than I am at present.”
+
+Watching the fever glow in the man’s face deepen, and feeling
+the pulse go up several beats per minute, Dr. Gitney replied:
+
+“There, there, Thurston. Be good, and I’ll let you have three
+minutes with your engineers.”
+
+“That’s all I ask,” murmured the sick man eagerly.
+
+Dr. Gitney went outside and rounded them up. All were present
+except ’Gene Black, who, according to Matt Rice, had taken a little
+walk outside of camp.
+
+“I hope you’ll soon be better, sir,” began Rutter, as the engineers
+gathered at the cot of their stricken chief.
+
+“Don’t say anything unnecessary, and don’t waste my time,” begged
+Mr. Thurston. “Rutter, do you feel equal to running this field
+corps until either Blaisdell or I can take charge again?”
+
+“No, I don’t chief,” replied Jack. “I’ve sent a wire to Howe, urging
+him to come here and take charge.”
+
+“Howe can’t come,” replied the chief. “If he does, the construction
+work will go to pieces. This corps will have to be led by someone
+now present.”
+
+Morris and Rice gazed eagerly at their chief. Butter showed his
+relief at being allowed to hack out from full control.
+
+As for Timothy Thurston, he let his gaze wander from face to face.
+
+“Reade!” he almost whispered.
+
+“Yes, sir!” answered Tom, stepping gently forward. “What can
+I do for you, sir?”
+
+“Reade,” came in another whisper, “can you---have you the courage
+to take the post of acting chief?”
+
+Several gasps of astonishment broke on the air, but the greatest
+gasp of all came from Reade himself.
+
+“I think you need a little sleep now, sir,” urged Tom.
+
+“I’m not out of my head,” smiled Timothy Thurston wanly. “Doc
+Gitney will tell you that. Come---for I’m growing very tired.
+Can you swing this outfit and push the S.B. & L. through within
+charter time?”
+
+“I---I---hardly know what to say,” stammered Tom, who felt dizzy
+from the sudden rush of blood to his head.
+
+“Have you the courage to try?”
+
+“Yes, sir---_I have_!” came, without further hesitation from Tom
+Reade. “I believe I’ll succeed, at that, for I’ll stake health,
+and even life, on winning out!”
+
+“That’s what I like to hear,” breathed Mr. Thurston, an added flush
+coming to his own face.
+
+“Gentlemen, it’s time to leave,” warned Dr. Gitney, watching his
+patient.
+
+“One moment more, Doc,” insisted the chief engineer feebly.
+“Gentlemen, you’ve heard what has just been said. Will everyone of
+you pledge himself on his honor to drop all feeling that might
+interfere? Will you all stand loyally by Reade, take his orders
+and help boost him and all the rest of us through to victory in this
+big game?”
+
+“I will!” spoke Jack Rutter earnestly and with a deep sigh of relief.
+
+The others added their promises.
+
+“Reade, you will take full charge here,” continued Timothy Thurston.
+“Notify Mr. Howe, too, at once. You and he will not need to
+conflict with each other in any way. Also notify the president
+of the road, at the New York offices. Wire him at once. Now---thank
+you all, gentlemen. I believe I shall have to stop and go to sleep.”
+
+“Get out, all of you,” came firmly from bearded, middle-aged Dr.
+Gitney. “You fellows now have your acting chief to look to, and
+you don’t need to bother a sick man any more.”
+
+When Tom Reade stepped outside, on the heels of the others, he
+certainly didn’t feel as though treading on air. Instead, he
+wondered if he were going to reel and totter, so dizzy did he
+feel over the sudden realization of the responsibilities he had
+taken upon himself.
+
+“Give us our orders, chief,” begged Matt Rice, with a grin, when Tom
+joined the others over by the mess tent.
+
+“Wait a few moments,” urged Reade. “I don’t really know whether
+I am chief or a joke.”
+
+“Great Scott! After lecturing me the way you did, you are not going
+to get cold feet, are you?” gasped Jack Rutter.
+
+“You’ll know what I mean before long,” Tom murmured. “I signaled
+to Dr. Gitney to follow me as soon as he could.”
+
+“How does it seem to know that you have only to beckon and that men
+must follow?” laughed Joe Grant. It is doubtful whether Tom, gazing
+at the chief’s big tent, even heard.
+
+Presently Dr. Gitney stepped outside and came toward them.
+
+“Doctor,” began Tom, “will you give me your word of honor that
+Mr. Thurston is in his right mind?”
+
+“He certainly impresses me as being so,” the physician replied.
+
+“You fully believe that he knew just what he was doing?” Tom insisted.
+
+“I do, Reade. But why should you care? You have the reins in your
+own hands now.”
+
+“I wish to keep the reins there,” Tom returned quickly. “Still
+I don’t want to hold the power for an instant if there is reason
+to believe that Mr. Thurston didn’t know what he was doing.”
+
+“If that is all you required of me, Reade, rest easy and go ahead
+with the big trust that has been placed in your hands,” replied
+Dr. Gitney.
+
+“Then help me to get a few things out of the chief’s tent that we
+shall need,” replied Tom.
+
+“Tell me what the things are,” rejoined the physician, “and I’ll pass
+them out. I don’t want one of you in there, or Thurston will soon be
+as delirious as Blaisdell is, poor fellow.”
+
+By stealth, drawing tables and instruments, several boxes of maps,
+books and papers and other necessary articles were taken from
+Mr. Thurston tent without awaking the sick man.
+
+These were removed to a tent that was not occupied at the moment.
+
+“Supper’s ready, folks,” announced Bob, the cook’s helper, stepping
+softly through camp.
+
+Tom joined the other engineers, taking a few hasty mouthfuls.
+Hardly had the party gathered in the mess tent when ’Gene Black,
+bright and cheery, stepped in swiftly, nodding here and there.
+
+“Well, Rutter, I take it you are running the camp from now on?”
+asked Black.
+
+“Guess just once more,” replied Jack.
+
+“Who is, then?”
+
+“Mr. Reade.”
+
+Black gulped, then grinned.
+
+“The cub? That’s good!”
+
+Black leaned back on his stool, laughing loudly.
+
+“But who _is_ going to boss the camp?” insisted Black, after he had
+had his laugh.
+
+“Mr. Reade!” flung back the other engineers in one voice.
+
+“What have you to say to this, cub?” asked ’Gene Black, turning
+to Tom.
+
+“Mr. Thurston placed me in charge because no one else would assume
+the responsibility,” smiled Tom good-humoredly.
+
+“Then you’re going to stay boss for the present?”
+
+“Unless Mr. Thurston changes his mind.”
+
+“Oh, what a fool I was to be away this afternoon!” groaned Black
+to himself. “I could have gotten this chance away from a cub like
+Reade. Oh, but my real task would have been easy if I had been here
+on deck, and had got Thurston to turn matters over to me. Reade
+will be easy! He’s only a cub---a booby. Even if he proved
+shrewd---well, I have at my disposal several ways of getting rid
+of him!”
+
+Then, aloud, Black went on:
+
+“Reade, I’m a candidate for the post of acting assistant chief
+engineer.”
+
+“That goes to Rutter, if he’ll take it,” replied Tom, with a smile.
+
+“Oh, I’ll take it,” nodded Jack Rutter. “I can follow orders, when
+I have someone else to give them.”
+
+Tom was intentionally pleasant with ’Gene Black. He intended
+to remain pleasant---until he was quite ready to act.
+
+Immediately after supper Tom ordered one of the chainmen to saddle
+a pony and be ready to take a message back to the telegraph service
+that was rapidly overtaking them.
+
+“I want you to be sure to get a receipt for the message from the
+operator,” Tom explained. “Direct the operator to get the message
+through to New York at once.”
+
+“What’s the use?” demanded the chainman. “It’s night in New York,
+the same as it is here. If the message goes through at any time
+tonight it will do.”
+
+“I didn’t ask you that,” Tom replied quietly. “I told you to
+instruct the operator, from me, to send the message at once.
+Then, if there is any delay on the way, the message will still
+be in New York in the morning when the company’s offices open.”
+
+Then Tom Reade went to the new headquarters’ tent, seated himself
+at the desk and picked up a pen.
+
+“Whew!” he muttered suddenly. “This message is going to be harder
+to write than I thought! When the president of the S.B. & L. gets
+my telegram, informing him that a cub is in command here, he’ll blow
+up! If he recovers he’ll wire me that he’s sending a grown man for
+the job!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+BLACK TURNS OTHER COLORS
+
+
+Through the night Tom Reade managed to get some sound sleep.
+
+Had he been less exhausted physically the excitement caused by
+his sudden and dizzying promotion might have interfered with his
+rest. As it was, he slept like a log, though, by his own orders,
+he was called twice in the night to be informed as to the condition
+of the two sick men.
+
+In the morning a male nurse for whom Dr. Gitney had arranged arrived
+in camp. Thereafter the physician had a little opportunity for rest.
+
+Mr. Thurston reached the delirium stage in his illness that forenoon.
+
+“Reade, I don’t feel like going out this morning,” announced ’Gene
+Black, approaching the young head of the camp after early breakfast.
+
+“What’s the matter?” Tom asked pleasantly.
+
+“I have rather a bad headache,” complained Black.
+
+“That’s a woman’s complaint,” smiled Tom.
+
+“Just the same, I’m not fit for duty,” retorted Black rather testily.
+“I hope I’m not going to come down with the fever, but I can’t be
+sure.”
+
+“You’d better stay in camp, then,” nodded Reade. “Don’t go out into
+the field again until you feel like work.”
+
+“Humph! He takes it easily enough,” grunted Black to himself
+as the young chief strode away to confer with Butter. “I wonder
+if the cub suspects the game I’m playing here? Oh, pshaw! Of
+course he doesn’t suspect. Why should he? The truth is that
+Cub Reade doesn’t realize how much every man is needed in the
+field. Reade doesn’t understand the big need for hustle here.
+Well, that all helps to make my task the easier.”
+
+Within five minutes Rutter and the other engineers had their full
+instructions. As they started away Tom called after them:
+
+“Gentlemen, if there is any possible way of putting fifty per cent.
+more work into each day, now, I know I can rely upon you all to do
+it. The S.B. & L. must run its first train over the completed road
+within charter time.”
+
+Now, Tom had opportunity to wonder what had happened to Harry
+Hazelton, who should have been back in camp the preceding evening.
+“He must have had to go farther for ice than we imagined,”
+was the only conclusion Reade could form. “At any rate, Harry
+won’t come back until he has it. He won’t bring back merely an
+excuse when his commission was for a ton of ice.”
+
+Tom wandered into the new headquarters’ tent, heaved a big sigh
+as the weight of his new responsibilities struck him with full
+force, and began a systematic examination of all the piles of
+papers and maps now under his charge.
+
+By nine o’clock Harry Hazelton and his guide returned, followed
+by a four-mule transport wagon.
+
+Tom, hearing the approach, came out and beckoned. Harry rode
+up, dismounting.
+
+“Well, I got the ice, you see,” announced Hazelton.
+
+“Did you have to go very far for it?”
+
+“No; but you and I forgot to allow for the time that mules would
+need for rest on such a steep, uphill climb. Where is the ice to go?”
+
+“Send the man over to Jake Wren. Jake knows more about such things
+than you or I will know within the next ten years.”
+
+Harry carried the order to the driver, then hurried back.
+
+“How are our sick men?” he asked.
+
+“Both alive, but delirious. Doc Gitney has a man nurse to help
+him now.”
+
+“Did Mr. Rutter leave any orders for me?” pressed Harry.
+
+“No; Rutter is in charge of the actual field work only.”
+
+“Who gives the main orders?”
+
+“I do---unless New York changes the plan.”
+
+Tom hastily narrated what had taken place in Mr. Thurston’s tent
+the day before. Harry listened, his eyes growing larger as he
+heard.
+
+“Tom! I’m mighty glad!” he cried delightedly. “You’re going
+to do the trick, too! You’re going to put the S.B. & L. through
+within the time allowed by the charter!”
+
+“I’m going to do it or wear myself out,” replied Reade, with a
+glint of determination in his eyes. “But, Harry, the road isn’t
+going to go through on mere wind. We’ve got to work---not talk!
+Come into the new headquarters’ tent. Throw the front of your
+shirt open, take a few deep breaths, tie down the safety valve
+and get ready to make the steam fly. I’m going over the maps
+and documents, the field notes, the reports and what not. I want
+you to help me untangle them and set all matters straight.”
+
+For two hours the cub engineers worked as they had never toiled
+before. Then a horseman drew up before their tent.
+
+“Telegram for Reade, acting chief engineer,” called the man from
+saddle. “The czar over at the cook house told me I’d find my
+man here.”
+
+“I’m Reade,” admitted Tom, stepping outside and receiving the
+envelope. “Do you belong with the telegraph construction crowd?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” replied the young horseman.
+
+“How long before you expect to have the line up with the camp?”
+
+“By tomorrow night, unless you move the camp forward again.”
+
+“That’s good news,” nodded Reade. “Wait until I see whether there
+is to be an answer to this message.”
+
+Tom stepped inside, breaking the flap of the envelope. From head
+to foot he trembled as his eyes took in the following message:
+
+“Reade, Acting Chief Engineer.
+
+“Relying upon Thurston’s judgment, and from your satisfactory
+wire, conclude that Thurston chose right man for post. Assume
+all responsibilities. Advise New York offices daily as to condition
+of work, also condition Thurston and Blaisdell. Spare no expense
+in their care. Shall join you within five days.”
+
+(Signed) “Newnham, President S.B. & L. R.R.”
+
+Having read the telegram, Tom turned to pick up a sheet of paper.
+After jotting down the address of President Newnham, he added:
+
+“Shall hustle job through rapidly if there is any way of doing
+it. Shall engage extra engineers in this state. Hope to be able
+to show you, on arrival, things moving at speed.”
+
+(Signed) Reade, “Acting Chief Engineer.”
+
+Then Tom shoved both despatches under his chum’s eyes. Naturally
+Hazelton read the one from New York first.
+
+“Whew! The president seems to trust you,” murmured Harry.
+
+“No; he doesn’t,” Tom retorted. “He doesn’t know anything about
+me. His wire shows that he knows and trusts Mr. Thurston, the
+man who picked me out for this job.”
+
+Then Tom wrote a second despatch, addressed to the State University.
+It ran as follows:
+
+“Have heard that your university has party from engineering school
+in field this summer. Can you place me in immediate wire communication
+with professor in charge of party? Have practical work to offer
+students.”
+
+This also Tom showed briefly to his chum. Then, picking up the
+two telegrams, Tom stepped outside, turning them over to the rider.
+“Ask your operator to rush both of these, the one to New York
+going first.”
+
+As the pony’s hoofs clicked against the gravel, Reade stepped
+inside the tent.
+
+“What are you going to do with the State University students?”
+asked Harry curiously.
+
+“Put ’em at work on the smaller jobs here,” Tom answered. “At
+least, as many of them as the professor will vouch for.”
+
+Three hours later Tom received an answer to his local despatch.
+It was from Professor Coles, sixty miles away, in camp with a
+party of thirty engineering students. The professor asked for
+further particulars. Tom wired back:
+
+“Can use your entire lot of students in practical railroad work,
+if they want experience and can do work. Will you bring them
+here with all speed and let us try them out? For yourself, we
+offer suitable pay for a man of your attainments. Students engaged
+will be paid all they are worth.”
+
+“Gracious, but you’re going in at wholesale! What will President
+Newnham say to you for engaging men at such a wholesale rate!”
+
+“By the time he reaches here,” replied Tom in a tone that meant
+business, “either he will see results that will force him to
+approve---or else he’ll give me my walking papers.”
+
+“Now, what shall we do?” inquired Hazelton.
+
+“Nothing. It’s nearly time for the field force to be back in camp.”
+
+“We’d better work every minute of the time,” urged Harry.
+
+“We’re going to take things more easily after this,” Tom yawned.
+
+“Is that what you mean by hustling?”
+
+“In a way, yes,” Tom nodded. “See here, Harry, in the field we
+tried to do the work of a man and a half each, didn’t we? And
+here at the drawing tables, too.”
+
+“Of course.”
+
+“Now there is need of hustling, and, if we work too hard, we simply
+won’t have time to plan for others, or even to know what they’re
+doing. There are a lot of students coming, Harry. Most of them
+will be good men, for they’re young, full of enthusiasm, and just
+crazy to show what they can do. Some of them will doubtless be
+good draughtsmen. You’ll take these men and see to it that the
+drawing is pushed forward. But you won’t work too hard yourself.
+You’ll see to it that the force under you is working, and in
+that way you’ll be three times as useful as if you merely ground
+and dug hard by yourself. I shall go light on real work, just
+in order that I may have my eyes and brains where they will do
+the most good every minute of the time.”
+
+Someone was approaching. Tom threw open the flap of the tent,
+thus discovering that the man was Black.
+
+“Howdy, Reade,” was the greeting of the idle engineer. “I’m glad
+to say that my headache is better. I’m not going to have the
+fever, after all. Tomorrow I’ll be out on the leveling job.”
+
+Tom shook his head.
+
+“I want you to rest up tomorrow, Black.”
+
+“I won’t do it,” retorted the other flatly. “Tomorrow I go out
+and continue running my levels.”
+
+“Then I may as well tell you,” Tom continued, “what I would have
+preferred to break to you more easily later on.”
+
+“What do you mean?” questioned the other sharply, an uneasy look
+creeping into his face.
+
+“You’re not going to do any more work for us, Black,” replied the
+young chief coolly.
+
+“Not do any more work, What do you mean, Reade? Am I discharged
+from this corps?”
+
+“Not yet, Black, for I haven’t the money at hand to pay you to
+date. So you may stay here until the paymaster comes. Then, when
+you have your full amount of pay, you can leave us.”
+
+“What does this mean?” demanded ’Gene Black angrily, as he stepped
+closer, his eyes blazing.
+
+Some young men would have shrunk back before Black’s menacing
+manner. Tom had never yet met the man who could make him really
+afraid.
+
+“I’ve already told you the whole story, Black.”
+
+“Why am I discharged?”
+
+“I am not obliged to give you my reasons.”
+
+“You’ll find you’ll have to do so!” stormed ’Gene Black.
+
+“Well, then,” Tom answered, “you get through here because you kicked
+one of the tripod legs of your leveling instrument the other day, and
+left a mark on the wood.”
+
+“Don’t you try to be funny with me, you young hound!” hissed Black,
+stepping so close that Tom gently pushed him back. “You young
+idiot! Do you think you can fire me---and get away with it?”
+
+“We won’t talk about it any more,” Tom answered. “Your time will
+be all your own until the paymaster arrives. After you’ve received
+your money you will leave camp.”
+
+“Are any of the others going?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Then you’re discharging me for personal reasons!” snarled ’Gene
+Black. “However, you can’t do it! I’ll wire the president of
+the road, at New York.”
+
+“He won’t receive your wire,” Tom assured the irate one. “President
+Newnham is on his way here. Probably he’ll arrive here before
+the paymaster does. You may take your case to President Newnham
+in person if you wish.”
+
+“That’s what I’ll do, then!” breathed ’Gene Black fiercely.
+“And I’ll take your place in charge here, cub! If I don’t, _you_
+shall never finish the S.B. & L!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BAD PETE MIXES IN SOME
+
+
+Forty-Eight hours later Professor Coles arrived in camp with thirty
+healthy, joyous young students of engineering.
+
+It didn’t take Tom half an hour to discover that he had some excellent
+material here. As for the professor himself, that gentleman was
+a civil engineer of the widest experience.
+
+“I shall need you to advise me, professor,” Tom explained. “While
+I had the nerve to take command here, I’m only a boy, after all,
+and you’ll be surprised when you find out how much there is that
+I don’t know.”
+
+“It’s very evident, Mr. Reade,” smiled the professor, “that you
+know the art of management, and that’s the important part in any
+line of great work.”
+
+The student party had brought their own tents and field equipment
+with them. Their arrival had been a total surprise in camp, as
+none of the other engineers, save Harry, had known what was in
+the wind.
+
+“If these boys don’t make mistakes by wholesale,” declared Jack
+Butter, “we’ll just boost the work along after this. I wonder
+why Mr. Thurston never hit upon the idea of adding such a force?”
+
+“It’s very likely he has been thinking of it all along,” Tom rejoined.
+“The main point, however, is that we seem to have a bully field
+force.”
+
+Four of the students had been selected to serve as map-making
+force under Harry Hazelton. The rest were going out into the
+field, some of them as engineers in embryo, the rest as chainmen
+and rodmen.
+
+Though the field outfit now presented a lively appearance, all
+was kept as quiet as possible in and near the camp, for neither
+Mr. Thurston nor Mr. Blaisdell knew what was going on about them.
+Both were still delirious, and very ill.
+
+“Now I see why you could afford to ‘fire’ me and let the work
+slack up for a while,” sneered Black, meeting Reade after dark.
+
+“Do you?” asked Tom.
+
+“These boys will spoil the whole business. You don’t seem to
+have any idea of the numbers of fool mistakes that boys can make.”
+
+“They’re good fellows, anyway, and honest,” Tom rejoined.
+
+“Give some of ’em leveling work out on Section Nineteen,” suggested
+’Gene, apparently seized with a sudden thought. “Then compare
+their field notes with mine, and see how far out they are.”
+
+“I happen to know all about your leveling notes on Nineteen,”
+Reade retorted rather significantly.
+
+“What do you mean?” flared Black.
+
+“Just before Mr. Thurston was taken ill, as it happened, Hazelton
+and I took a leveling instrument out on Nineteen one day and ran
+your sights over after you.”
+
+“So that’s why you ‘fired’-----” began Black, his thoughts moving
+swiftly. Then, realizing that he was about to say too much, he
+went on: “What did you find wrong with my sights on Nineteen?”
+
+“I didn’t say that anything was wrong with your work,” Reade rejoined.
+“What I was about to say was that, if I put any of the students
+at leveling on Nineteen, by way of test, I shall have my own notes
+with which to compare theirs.”
+
+“Humph!” muttered the fellow. Then shaking with anger, he walked
+away from the young chief.
+
+“Now, Black knows that much against himself,” smiled Reade inwardly.
+“He doesn’t yet know, however, that I heard him talking with
+Bad Pete.”
+
+Though he was pretending to take things easily, Tom’s head was
+all but whirling with the many problems that presented themselves
+to him. To get away from it all for a while Tom strolled a short
+distance out of camp, seating himself on the ground under a big
+tree not far from the trail.
+
+Five minutes later the young chief heard halting footsteps that
+struck his ear as being rather stealthy. Someone, from camp,
+was heading that way. Stealth in the other’s movements made Reade
+draw himself back into the shadow.
+
+’Gene Black halted not far from the tree. Turning back toward
+the camp, the fellow shook his fist violently in that direction.
+
+“He’s certainly thinking of me,” grimaced Reade.
+
+“You young cub, you may laugh for a day or two more!” muttered
+Black, with another shake of his fist.
+
+“If that’s meant for me, I’m much obliged, I’m sure,” thought
+Reade. “Laughing is always a great pleasure for me.”
+
+“It’s your turn now,” continued Black, in the same low, passionate
+tone, “but I’ll soon have you blocked---or else under the sod!”
+
+“Oho!” reflected the young acting chief engineer, not without
+a slight shudder. “Is assassination in the plans of the people
+behind ’Gene Black’s treachery? Or is putting me under the sod
+merely an addition that Black has made for his own pleasure?”
+
+The plotter, still unaware of the eavesdropper, had now turned
+and was walking down the trail. He was now so far from camp that
+he did not need to be soft-footed.
+
+Out of the shadow, after a brief pause, stole Tom Reade.
+
+“If Black is going to meet anyone tonight I’d better be near to
+the place of meeting. I might hear something that would teach
+me just what to do to checkmate the plotters against us.”
+
+For fully half a mile the chase continued. Two or three times Reade
+stepped against some slight obstacle in the darkness, making a
+sound which, he feared, would travel to the ears of Black. But
+the latter kept on his way.
+
+Finally ’Gene Black halted where three trees grew in the form
+of a triangle and threw a dense shadow. In the same instant the
+young chief engineer dropped out of sight behind a boulder close
+to the path.
+
+Black’s low, thrilling whistle sounded. A night bird’s call answered.
+Soon afterwards, another form appeared, and Tom, peering anxiously,
+was sure that he recognized the man whom he expected to see---Bad
+Pete.
+
+What Tom heard came disjointedly---a few words here and there,
+but enough to set him thinking “at the rate of a mile a minute,”
+as he told himself.
+
+Up the trail came the pair, after some minutes. Tom crouched
+flat behind his boulder.
+
+“Great! I hope they’ll halt within a few feet and go on talking
+about the things that I want to hear---_must_ hear!” quivered Reade.
+
+It was provoking! Black and Bad Pete passed so close, yet the
+only sound from either of them, while within earshot, was a chuckle
+from Pete.
+
+“That’s right! Laugh,” gritted disappointed Tom. “Laughing is in
+your line! You’re planning, somehow, to put the big laugh over the
+whole line of the S.B. & L. railroad. If I could only hear a little
+more I might be able to turn the laugh on you!”
+
+The pair went on out of sight. Tom waited where he was for more
+than half an hour.
+
+“Now, the coast is surely clear,” thought Reade at last. He rose
+and started campward.
+
+“The soft-foot, the rubber shoe won’t work now,” Tom decided.
+“If I were to go along as if trying not to run into anyone, and
+that pair got first sight of me, it would make them suspicious.
+I haven’t been eavesdropping---oh, no! I’m merely out taking
+a night stroll to ease my nerves.”
+
+Therefore the cub chief puckered his lips, emitting a cheery whistling
+as he trudged along up the trail.
+
+As it happened the pair whom Tom sought had not yet parted. From
+behind a boulder a man stepped out in his path. From the other
+side of the boulder another man moved in behind him.
+
+“Out for the air, Reade?” asked the sneering voice of ’Gene Black.
+
+“Hello, Black---is that you?”
+
+“Now, Black,” broke in the voice of Bad Pete, “you wanted this
+cub, and he’s all yours! What are you going to do with him?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+BLACK’S PLOT OPENS WITH A BANG
+
+
+“Some mistake here, gentlemen,” interjected Tom Reade coolly.
+“Unless I’m very badly informed I don’t belong to either of you.
+If anyone owns me, then I belong to the S.B. & L.”
+
+“I told you I’d make you settle with me for throwing me out of
+the camp,” remarked Black disagreeably.
+
+“You’re not out yet---more’s the pity,” Tom retorted. “You will
+be, however, as soon as the paymaster arrives.”
+
+“You’re wrong,” jeered ’Gene. “You’re out---from this minute!”
+
+“What do you mean?” Tom inquired, looking Black steadily in the eye.
+
+Yet the young chief engineer had a creepy realization of just
+what the pair _did_ mean. Black must have confederates somewhere
+in the mountains near. It was evidently the rascal’s intention
+to seize Tom and carry him away where he would be held a prisoner
+until he had lost all hope of regaining his position at the head
+of the railroad’s field force.
+
+“You say that I’ll be thrown out of camp very soon,” sneered Black.
+“The fact is, you are not going back to camp.”
+
+“What’s going to stop me?” Reade inquired, with no sign of fear.
+
+“You’re not going back to camp!” Black insisted.
+
+“Someone has been giving you the wrong tip,” smiled Tom.
+
+He started forward, brushing past Black. It was mainly a pretense,
+for Reade had no notion but that he would be stopped.
+
+With a savage cry Black seized him by the shoulders.
+
+Tom made a quick turn, shaking the fellow off. While he was thus
+occupied Bad Pete slipped about, and now confronted Reade. The
+muzzle of a revolver was pressed against the young engineer’s belt.
+
+“Hoist your hands!” ordered Pete warningly.
+
+Tom obeyed, though he hoisted his hands only as far as his mouth.
+Forming a megaphone, he gave vent to a loud yell of:
+
+“Roo-rup! roo-rup! roo-rup!”
+
+It was one of the old High School yells of the good old Gridley
+days---one of the yells sometimes used as a signal of distress
+by famous old Dick & Co., of which Tom Reade had been a shining
+member.
+
+On the still air of the mountain night that yell traveled far
+and clearly. It was a call of penetrating power, traveling farther
+than its sound would suggest.
+
+“You do that again, you young coyote, and I’ll begin to pump!”
+growled Bad Pete savagely.
+
+“I won’t need to do it again,” Tom returned. “Wait a few minutes,
+and you’ll see.”
+
+“Shall I drop him, Black?” inquired Pete.
+
+’Gene Black was about to answer in the affirmative, when a sound
+up the trail caught his attention.
+
+“There’s someone coming,” snarled Black, using his keen powers
+of hearing.
+
+“Wait and I’ll introduce you,” mocked Tom Reade.
+
+“We won’t wait. Neither will you,” retorted Black. “You’ll come
+with us. About face and walk fast!”
+
+“I’m not going your way tonight,” replied Reade calmly.
+
+“If he doesn’t obey every order like a flash, Pete, then you pull
+the trigger and wind this cub up.”
+
+“All right,” nodded Pete. “Cub, you heard what Black said?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Tom, looking at Pete with smiling eyes.
+
+“Then come along,” ordered Black, seizing Tom by one arm.
+
+“I won’t!” Tom declared flatly.
+
+“You know what refusal means. Pete is steady on the trigger.”
+
+“Is he?” asked Reade coolly.
+
+Watching like a cat through his sleepy-looking eyes, Reade suddenly
+shot his right hand across his abdomen in such fashion as to knock
+away the muzzle of the revolver. Bad Pete felt himself seized
+in a football tackle that had been the terror of more than one
+opposing High School football player.
+
+Crash! Pete struck the ground, Reade on top of him.
+
+’Gene Black darted to the aid of his companion, but shrank back
+as he caught the glint of the revolver that Tom had twisted out
+of the hand of the bad man.
+
+“Duck, Black!” warned Tom, in a quiet tone that nevertheless had
+a deadly note in it.
+
+“Where are you?” called the voice of Harry Hazelton, not two hundred
+yards up the trail now.
+
+“Here!” called Tom.
+
+“Wow-ow-ow! Whoop!” yelled a chorus of college boys.
+
+It all took place in a very few seconds. Black, hesitating whether
+or not to close with Reade, decided on flight. He turned and
+fled.
+
+Whizz-zz-zz! The sound was made by the captured revolver as Tom,
+leaping to his feet, threw it as far from him as he could. It
+sailed through space, next disappearing over the edge of a steep
+precipice.
+
+“What’s your hurry, Peter?” drawled Reade, as, jerking Bad Pete
+to his feet, he planted a kick that sent the bad man down the
+trail a dozen feet.
+
+Tom started after Pete, intent on another kick. Bad Pete sped
+down the trail blindly. Like most of his gun-play kind, he had
+little courage when deprived of his implement of murder.
+
+“What’s up, Tom?” demanded Harry Hazelton, leaping to the spot.
+
+“What’s the row, chief?” asked one of the university boys eagerly.
+“Anyone you want us to catch? Whoop! Lead the way to the running
+track while we show you our best time!”
+
+“There’s nothing to be done, I think,” laughed Tom. “Do you all
+know Black by sight?”
+
+“Yes,” came the answer from a score of throats.
+
+“Well,” Tom continued, “if any of you ever catch sight of him
+in the camp again you are hereby authorized to run him out by
+the use of any kind of tactics that won’t result fatally.”
+
+On the way up the trail Tom told the rescue party something about
+the late affair.
+
+However, Reade referred to it only as a personal quarrel, refraining
+from making any mention of the treachery of Black and of the plots
+of which that treacherous engineer was a part.
+
+“If you’ve many friends like that one, chief, you had better strap
+a gun on to your belt.”
+
+“I don’t like revolver carrying,” Tom replied bluntly. “It always
+makes a coward of a fellow.”
+
+Two mornings later the telegraph wire, one end of which now rested
+in a tent in camp, brought word that President Newnham was at the
+construction camp, and would be along in the course of the day.
+
+Tom, Harry and the draughtsmen were the only engineers in camp
+at the hour when the message arrived.
+
+“Big doings coming our way!” announced Tom, after he had broken
+the news to the others.
+
+“Is Mr. Newnham likely to make much of a shake-up?” asked Watson,
+one of the college-boy draughtsmen.
+
+“I’ve never met him,” Tom answered, “and I don’t know. We’re
+going along at grand old speed, and Mr. Newnham had better let
+things run just as they’re going now, if he wants to see the S.B.
+& L. open for traffic within charter time.”
+
+“He may give all of us university boys the swift run,” laughed
+another of the draughtsmen.
+
+“I don’t believe it,” Tom replied. “The added help that you fellows
+have given us has enabled us to double our rush forward. I’ve a
+notion that President Newnham is a man of great common sense.”
+
+“How are the sick men this morning,” inquired Harry. “Is either
+one of them fit to talk with the president?”
+
+“Doc Gitney says he won’t allow any caller within a thousand feet
+of his patients,” Tom smiled. “And Doc seems to be a man of his
+word.”
+
+Both Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell were now weakly conscious,
+in a half-dazed sort of way. Their cases were progressing favorably
+on the whole, though it would be weeks ere either would be fit
+to take charge of affairs.
+
+The camp had been moved forward, so as to leave the sick men about
+a fifth of a mile away from the scenes of camp activity. This
+insured quiet for them until they were able to endure noise once more.
+
+“You’ll be amazingly busy until the president gets here, I take
+it,” remarked Bushrod, another college boy, without glancing up
+from his drawing table.
+
+“Yes,” drawled Tom, with a smile. “When you get time to breathe
+look out of the door and see what I’m doing.”
+
+Tom walked over to his favorite seat, a reclining camp chair that
+he had placed under a broad shade tree. Seating himself, the
+cub chief opened a novel that he had borrowed from one of the
+college boys.
+
+“It looks lazy,” yawned Tom, “but what can I do? I’ve hustled
+the corps, but I’m up with them to the last minute of work they’ve
+done. There is nothing more I can do until they bring me more
+work. I might ride out and see how the fellows are coming along
+in the field, but I was out there yesterday, and I know all they’re
+doing, and everyone of their problems. Besides, if I rode afield,
+I’d miss Mr. Newnham.”
+
+So he opened the book and read for an hour. Then he glanced up
+as a stranger on horseback rode into camp.
+
+“Tell me where I can find Mr. Reade,” said the new arrival.
+
+“You’re looking at hire,” Tom replied.
+
+“No, son; I want your father,” explained the horseman.
+
+“If you go on horseback it will take you months to reach him,”
+Tom explained. “My father lives ’way back east.”
+
+“But I want the chief engineer of this outfit,” insisted the stranger.
+
+“Then you’re at the end of your journey.”
+
+“Don’t tell me, young man, that you’re the chief engineer,” protested
+the horseman.
+
+“No,” Tom admitted modestly. “I’m only the acting chief. Hold
+on. If you think I’m not responsible for that statement you might
+ask any of the fellows over in the headquarters tent.”
+
+At that moment Harry Hazelton thrust his head out through the
+doorway.
+
+“Young man,” hailed the stranger, “I want to find the chief.”
+
+“Reach out your hand, and you can touch him on the shoulder,”
+answered Hazelton, and turned back.
+
+“I know I don’t look entirely trustworthy,” grinned Tom, “but
+I’ve been telling you the truth.”
+
+“Then, perhaps,” continued the stranger, looking keenly at the
+cub engineer, “you’ll know why I’m here. I’m Dave Fulsbee.”
+
+“You’re mighty welcome, then,” cried Tom, reaching out his hand.
+“I’ve been wondering where you were.”
+
+“I came as soon as I could get the wagon-load of equipment together,”
+grinned Fulsbee.
+
+“Where is the wagon?”
+
+“Coming along up the trail. It will be here in about twenty minutes.”
+
+“I’ll be glad to see your equipment, and to set you at work as
+soon as we’re ready,” Reade went on. “Harry, show Mr. Fulsbee
+the tent we’ve set aside for himself and his helper.”
+
+“Who is that party?” questioned Watson, as Hazelton started off
+with the newcomer in tow.
+
+“Oh, just a new expert that we’re taking on,” Tom drawled.
+
+Ten minutes later all other thoughts were driven from Reade’s
+mind. A mountain wagon was sighted coming up the trail, drawn
+by a pair of grays. The stout gentleman, on the rear seat, dressed
+in the latest fashion, even to his highly polished shoes, must
+surely be all the way from Broadway.
+
+“Mr. Newnham?” queried Tom, advancing to the wagon as it halted.
+
+“Yes; is Mr. Reade here?”
+
+“You’re speaking to him, sir,” smiled the cub engineer.
+
+Mr. Newnham took a quick look, readjusted his spectacles, and
+looked once more. Tom bore the scrutiny calmly.
+
+“I expected to find a very young man here, Mr. Reade, but you’re
+considerably younger than I had expected. Yet Howe, in charge
+of the construction corps, tells me that you’ve been hustling
+matters at this field survey end. How are you, Reade?”
+
+Mr. Newnham descended from the wagon, at once holding out his hand.
+
+“I’m very comfortable, thank you, sir,” Tom smiled.
+
+“You’re dreadfully busy, I’m sure,” continued the president of
+the S.B. & L. “In fact, Reade, I feel almost guilty in coming
+here and taking up your time when you’ve such a drive on. Don’t
+let me detain you. I can go right on into the field and talk
+with you there.”
+
+“It won’t be necessary, sir,” Tom answered, with another smile.
+“I’m not doing anything in particular.”
+
+“Nothing in particular? Why, I thought-----”
+
+“I don’t do any tearing around myself,” laughed Reade. “Since
+you were kind enough to make me acting chief engineer here I’ve
+kept the other fellows driving pretty hard, and I have every bit
+of work done right up to the minute. Yet, as for myself, I have
+little to do, most of the day, except to sit in a camp easy chair,
+or else I ride a bit over the ground and see just where the fellows
+are working.”
+
+“You take it mighty easily,” murmured President Newnham.
+
+“A chief may, if he has the sense to know how to work his
+subordinates,” Tom continued. “I don’t believe, sir, that you’ll
+find any fault with the way matters have gone forward.”
+
+“Let me see the latest reports,” urged Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Certainly, sir, if you’ll come into the head-quarters tent.”
+
+Leading the way into the tent where Harry Hazelton and his draughting
+force were at work, Tom announced:
+
+“Gentlemen, Mr. Newnham, president of the S.B. & L., wishes to
+look over the reports and the maps with me. You may lay off until
+called back to work.”
+
+As the others filed out of the tent, Tom made Harry a sign to
+remain. Then the three went over the details of what the field
+survey party was doing.
+
+“From all I can see,” remarked President Newnham, “you have done
+wonderfully well, Reade. I can certainly find no fault with Tim
+Thurston for recommending that you be placed in charge. Thurston
+will certainly be jealous when he gets on his feet again. You
+have driven the work ahead in faster time than Thurston himself
+was able to do.”
+
+“It’s very likely, sir,” replied Tom Reade, “that I have had an
+easier part of the country to work through than Mr. Thurston had.
+Then, again, the taking on of the engineer student party from
+the State University has enabled us to get ahead with much greater
+speed.”
+
+“I wonder why Thurston never thought to take on the students,”
+murmured Mr. Newnham.
+
+Bang! sounded an explosion, a mile or two to the westward.
+
+“I didn’t know that you were doing any blasting, Reade,” observed
+the president of the S.B. & L.
+
+“Neither did I, sir,” Tom replied, rising and listening.
+
+Bang! bang! bang! sounded a series of sharp reports.
+
+Tom ran out into the open Mr. Newnham following at a slower gait.
+
+Bang! bang! bang!
+
+“Hi, there, Riley!” roared Tom promptly. “Saddle two horses as
+quickly as you can. Harry, make ready to follow with me as soon
+as the horses are ready.”
+
+“Is anything wrong?” inquired the president. He was answered by more
+explosions in the distance.
+
+“I’m afraid so,” Tom muttered, showing his first trace of uneasiness.
+“However, I don’t want to say, Mr. Newnham, until I’ve investigated.”
+
+Before the horses were ready Tom descried, half a mile away, on
+a clear bit of trail, a horseman riding in at a furious gallop.
+
+“There comes a messenger, Mr. Newnham,” Tom went on. “We’ll soon
+know just what the trouble is.”
+
+“Trouble?” echoed Mr. Newnham, in astonishment. “Then you believe
+that is the word, do you?”
+
+“I’m afraid, Mr. Newnham, that you’ve reached here just in time to
+see some very real trouble,” was Reade’s quick answer. “But wait
+just two minutes, sir, and we’ll have exact information. Guessing
+won’t do any good.”
+
+Once or twice, through the trees, they caught sight of the on-rushing
+rider. Then Jack Rutter, a big splotch of red on the left sleeve
+of his shirt, rode hard into camp.
+
+“Reade,” he shouted, “we’re ambushed! Hidden scoundrels have
+been firing on us.”
+
+“You’ve ordered all the men in?” called Tom, as Rutter reined
+up beside him.
+
+“Every man of them,” returned Jack. “Poor Reynolds, of the student
+party, is rather seriously hit, I’m afraid. Some of the fellows
+are bringing him in.”
+
+“You’re hit yourself,” Tom remarked.
+
+“What? That little scratch?” demanded Rutter scornfully. “Don’t
+count me as a wounded man, Reade. There are some firearms in
+this camp. I want to get the men armed, as far as the weapons
+will go, and then I want to go back and smoke out the miserable
+rascals!”
+
+“It won’t be wise, Jack,” Tom continued coolly. “You’ll find
+that there are too many of the enemy. Besides, you won’t have
+to fatigue yourselves by going back over the trail. The scoundrels
+will be here, before long. They doubtless intend to wipe out
+the camp.”
+
+“Assassins coming to wipe out the camp?” almost exploded President
+Newnham. “Reade, this is most extraordinary!”
+
+“It is---very,” Tom assented dryly.
+
+“But who can the villains be?”
+
+“A picked-up gang of gun-fighters, sent here to blow this camp
+off the face of the earth, since that is the only way that the
+backers of the rival road can find to set us back,” Tom rejoined.
+“If they drive us away from here, they’ll attack the construction
+force next!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+SHUT OFF FROM THE WORLD
+
+
+Five horsemen belonging to the field party rode in furiously, Matt
+Rice at their head.
+
+“It’s a shame,” yelled Rice, as he threw himself from his horse.
+“I’d have stayed behind---so would the others---if we had had rifles
+with us. The scoundrels kept up a fire at a quarter of a mile range.
+Then we passed the men who are carrying Reynolds---they’re almost
+here now---but it wouldn’t have done any good for us to stand by them.
+We’d have made the other party only a bigger mark. Where are the
+revolvers, Reader? We’ve got to make a stand here. We can’t run away
+and leave our camp to fall into their hands.”
+
+“We’re not going to run away,” said Reade grimly. “But I’ll tell
+you what a half dozen of you can do. Hustle for shovels and dig
+a deep hole here. This gentleman is Mr. Newnham, president of the
+company that employs us. If the camp is attacked we can’t afford to
+have the president of the road killed.”
+
+“Mr. Newnham would do far better to ride down the trail as fast as
+he can go, and try to join the construction camp,” offered Rutter.
+
+The president of the S.B. & L. had been silent during the last few
+exciting moments. But now he opened his mouth long enough to reply
+very quickly:
+
+“Mr. Newnham hasn’t any thoughts of flight. I am not a fighting
+man, and never saw a shot fired in anger in my life, but I’m going
+to stand my ground in my own camp.”
+
+“Dig the hole, anyway,” ordered Tom. “We’ll want a safe place to put
+young Reynolds. We can’t afford to leave him exposed to fire.”
+
+“Where are the revolvers?” Rice insisted, as others started to get
+shovels and dig in a hurry.
+
+“Oh, never mind the revolvers,” replied Tom. “We won’t use ’em,
+anyway. We can’t, for they wouldn’t carry far enough to put any of
+the enemy in danger.”
+
+“Mr. Reade,” remarked Mr. Newnham, in a quiet undertone, “does it
+occur to you that you are making no preparations to defend the camp!
+That, in fact, you seem wholly indolent in the matter?”
+
+“Oh, no; I’m not indolent, sir,” smiled Tom. “You’ll find me
+energetic enough, sir, I imagine, when the need for swift work comes.”
+
+“Of course you couldn’t foresee the coming of any such outrage
+as this,” Mr. Newnham continued.
+
+“Oh, I rather guessed that this sort of thing was coming,” Tom
+confessed.
+
+“You guessed it---and yet the camp has been left undefended? You
+haven’t taken any steps to protect the company’s rights and property
+at this point?” gasped Mr. Newnham.
+
+“You will find, sir, that I am not wholly unprepared,” Reade remarked
+dryly, while the corners of his mouth drew down grimly.
+
+Tom was apparently the only one in camp, after the excitement
+started, who had noted that Dave Fulsbee, at the first shots, had
+leaped to his horse and vanished down the trail to the eastward.
+
+At this moment a party of a dozen, headed by Professor Coles, came
+in on foot, bearing young Reynolds with them.
+
+“Harry, mount one of the saddled horses and rush down yonder for
+Doc Gitney,” Tom ordered. “Give him your horse to come back on.
+He must see to young Reynolds promptly.”
+
+Some of the field party came in on horseback, followed soon by still
+others on foot. Many of the field engineering party, in their haste,
+had left their instruments, rods and chains behind.
+
+Tom, after diving into and out of the headquarters tent, held up a
+pair of powerful binocular field glasses. With these he took
+sweeping views of the near-by hills to the westward.
+
+“The scoundrels haven’t gotten in at close quarters yet, sir,” Reade
+reported to President Newnham. “At least, I can’t make out a sign
+of them on the high ground that commands this camp.”
+
+“This whole business of an armed attack on us is most incomprehensible
+to me,” remarked Mr. Newnham. “I know, of course, that the W.C.
+& A. haven’t left a stone unturned to defeat our efforts in getting
+our road running within the limits set in the charter. However,
+the W.C. & A. people are crazy to send armed assassins against
+us in the field in this fashion. No matter, now, whether we finish
+the road on time, this rascally work by the opposition will defeat
+their hopes of getting the charter away from us.”
+
+“It might prevent them from doing so, sir,” Tom rejoined quietly,
+“if you were able to prove that the scoundrels who fired on our
+engineering parties this morning were really employed by the W.C.
+& A. railroad crowd.”
+
+“Prove it?” snorted the man from Broadway. “Who else would have
+any interest in blocking us?”
+
+“Would that statement go in court, or before a legislature?” Tom
+pressed.
+
+“No, it wouldn’t,” President Newnham admitted thoughtfully. “I see
+the point, Reade. After the scoundrels have done their worst against
+us, they can disperse, vanishing among the hills, and the W.C. & A.
+people will simply deny that they were behind the attack, and will
+call upon us to prove it.”
+
+“Not only that, sir,” continued the cub chief engineer, “but I doubt
+if any of the officials of the W.C. & A. have any real knowledge that
+such a move is contemplated. This trick proceeds from the fertile
+mind of some clever, well-paid scoundrel who is employed in the
+opposition railroad’s gloom department. It is a cleverly thought-out
+scheme to make us lose three or four days of work, which will be
+enough to prevent us from finishing the road on time. So, the
+enemy think that we must lose the charter, sir.”
+
+“That trick will never work,” declared Mr. Newnham angrily. “Reade,
+there are courts, and laws. If the State of Colorado doesn’t protect
+us in our work, then we can’t be held to am count for not finishing
+within a given time.”
+
+“That’s as the legislature may decide, I imagine, sir,” hazarded
+the young engineer. “There are powerful political forces working
+to turn this road’s charter over to the W.C. & A. crowd. Your
+company’s property, Mr. Newnham, is entitled to protection from the
+state, of course. The state, however, will be able to reply that
+the authorities were not notified, and could not send protection
+to us.”
+
+“But we have a telegraph running from here out into the world!”
+cried the man from Broadway way, wheeling like a flash. “Reade,
+we’re both idiots not to have remembered, at the first shots,
+to send an urgent message to Denver. Where’s your operating tent?”
+
+“Over there. I’ll take you there, sir,” offered Tom, after pointing.
+“Still it won’t do any good, Mr. Newnham, to think of telegraphing.”
+
+“Not do us any good?” echoed the other, aghast. “What nonsense
+are you talking, Reade? If we are hindered the feet of our having
+wired to the governor of the state will be our first proof of having
+appealed to the state for protection. Can’t you see that, Reade?”
+
+The pair now turned in at the operator’s tent.
+
+“Operator,” said Reade, to the young man seated before the keys on
+a table, “this gentleman man is President Newnham, of the S.B. & L.
+Send any messages that he dictates.”
+
+“Get Denver on the wire,” commanded Mr. Newnham. “Hustle!”
+
+Click-click-click! rattled the sounder.
+
+“It won’t do a particle of good,” Tom uttered calmly. “’Gene Black,
+the engineer discharged from this camp, is serving the enemy.
+Black has brains enough to see that our wire was cut before he
+started a thing moving.”
+
+Click-click-click! spoke the sounder again.
+
+“I can’t get a thing,” explained the operator. “I can’t even get a
+response from the construction camp. Mr. Reade must be right---our
+wire has been cut and we’re shut off from the outside world.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE REAL ATTACK BEGINS
+
+
+Hearing the moving wheels of a wagon on the trail, Tom looked outside,
+then seized Mr. Newnham’s arm rather roughly.
+
+“Come along, sir, and come quickly, if you want to see something
+that will beat a carload of telegrams,” urged the cub engineer.
+
+Having gotten the president of the road outside, Tom let go of
+his arm and raced on before that astonished man from Broadway.
+
+“Here, you fellows,” called Tom, almost gayly, as he ran to where
+engineers and chainmen men were standing in little groups, talking
+gloomily over the forenoon’s work. “Get in line, here---a whole
+crowd of you!”
+
+Dave Fulsbee was now riding briskly toward the centre of the camp,
+ahead of the wagon for which he had gone down the trail. Laughing
+quietly, Tom hustled group after group of young men into one long
+line.
+
+“Hold up your right hands!” called out the young cub engineer.
+
+Wondering, his subordinates obeyed. Fulsbee reined up, dismounting
+before the line.
+
+“They’re all ready for you, friend,” called Tom gayly.
+
+“Listen, boys!” commanded Dave Fulsbee, as he faced the line on
+foot. “You do each and all of you, singly and severally, hereby
+swear that you will serve truly and well as special deputy sheriffs,
+and obey all lawful orders, so help you God?”
+
+Almost in complete silence the hands fell as their owners nodded.
+Both the engineers and rodmen felt a trifle dazed. Why was this
+solitary deputy sheriff before them, and with what did he expect
+them to fight! Were they to stand and throw rocks at an enemy armed
+with rifles?
+
+But just then the wagon was driven in front of them.
+
+“Hustle the cases out, boys! Get ’em open!” commanded Dave, though
+he spoke without excitement. “Forty rifles and ten thousand cartridges,
+all borrowed from the National Guard of the State. Get busy!
+If the coyotes down to the westward try to get busy around here
+we will talk back to them!”
+
+“Whoop!” yelled the college boys. They pushed and crowded about
+the wooden cases that were now unloaded.
+
+“See here,” boomed in the deep voice of Professor Coles, “I wasn’t
+sworn in, and I now insist that I, too, be sworn.”
+
+“Mr. Newnham, tell the professor that fighting is a boy’s business,
+and that there isn’t any call for him to risk himself,” appealed
+Tom. “There are plenty of youngsters here to do the fighting
+and to take the chances.”
+
+“Surely, there appear to be enough men,” chuckled President Newnham,
+who, since he realized that rifles and ammunition were at hand,
+appeared to be wonderfully relieved. “Professor, don’t think of
+running yourself into any danger. Look on, with me.”
+
+“Rifles are all given out, now, anyway,” called Dave Fulsbee coolly.
+“Now, youngsters, I’m going to show you where to station yourselves.
+Mr. Reade, have you seen anything through the glasses that looks
+interesting?”
+
+“By Jove,” Tom admitted, flushing guiltily, “I quite forgot to keep
+the lenses turned on the hills to the west.”
+
+He now made good for his omission, while Fulsbee led his young men
+away, stationing them in hiding places along the westward edge of
+the camp. Each man with a rifle was ordered not to rise from the
+ground, or to show himself in any way, and not to fire unless orders
+were given. Then Dave hurried back to the wagon. Something else
+was lifted out, all canvas covered, and rushed forward to a point
+just behind a dense clump of bushes.
+
+“Reade, I want to apologize to you,” cried the man from Broadway,
+moving quickly over to where Tom stood surveying the hills beyond
+through his glass. “I thought, for a few minutes, that you had
+suspected some such rascally work afoot, and that you had failed
+to take proper precautions.”
+
+“If I had failed, sir,” murmured Tom, without removing the glass
+from before his eyes, “you would have arrived just in time, sir,
+to turn out of the camp a man who wasn’t fit to be in charge.
+Yet it was only accident, sir, that led me to suspect what might
+be in the air.”
+
+Thereupon Tom hastily recounted to the president of the company
+the story of how he had accidentally overheard fragments of talk
+between ’Gene Black and Bad Pete.
+
+“That gave me a hint of how the wind was blowing,” Tom continued,
+“though I couldn’t make out enough of their talk, on either occasion,
+to learn just what was happening. I telegraphed to the nearest
+town that had a sheriff in it, and that put me in touch with Fulsbee.
+Then Dave, over the wire, offered to bring arms here and to help
+us to defend our camp.”
+
+“Mr. Reade,” exclaimed President Newnham hoarsely, “you are a
+wonderful young man! While seeming to be idle yourself, you have
+rushed the work through in splendid shape. Even when our enemies
+plot in the dark, and plan incredible outrages against us, you fully
+inform yourself of their plans. When the cowards strike you are
+ready to meet them, force for force. You may be only a cub
+engineer, but you have an amazing genius for the work in which
+chance has placed you out here.”
+
+“You may be guilty, Mr. Newnham, of giving me far more credit than
+I deserve,” laughed Tom gently. “In the matter of finding out the
+enemy’s designs, I didn’t, and I don’t know fully yet what the other
+side intends to do to us. What I did learn was by accident.”
+
+“Very few other young men would have been equal to making the
+greatest and best use of what accident revealed,” insisted Mr.
+Newnham warmly.
+
+Harry Hazelton came now, from the hole in the ground, to report
+that Dr. Gitney had done all he could for the comfort of poor
+young Reynolds.
+
+“Gitney says that Reynolds ought to come along all right, as far
+as the mere wound itself is concerned,” Hazelton added. “What
+will have to be looked out for is suppuration. If pus forms in
+and around the wound it may carry Reynolds off, for there are
+no hospital conveniences to be had in this wild neck of the woods.”
+
+“Is the doctor staying with Reynolds?” Tom asked, still using the
+glasses on the hilly country that lay ahead.
+
+“No; he has gone back to Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell,” Hazelton
+answered. “Doc says he’ll have to be with them to quiet them in
+case the firing gets close. He says both men will become excited and
+try to jump out of bed and come over here. Doc says he’s going to
+strap ’em both down.”
+
+“Dr. Gitney may be badly needed here, if a fight opens,” Tom mused
+aloud.
+
+“He says, if we need him, to send for him.”
+
+“Come through a hot fire?” Tom gasped.
+
+“Surely! Doc Gitney is a Colorado man, born and bred. He doesn’t
+mind a lead shower when it comes in the line of duty,” laughed
+Harry. “Now, if you’re through using me as a messenger, I’m going
+to find a rifle.”
+
+“You won’t succeed,” Tom retorted. “Every rifle in camp already
+has an amateur soldier behind it.”
+
+“Just my luck!” growled Harry.
+
+“You’re a good, husky lad,” Tom continued. “If you want to be
+of real use, just lie down hug the earth, take good care not to
+be hit, and-----”
+
+“Fine and manly!” interjected Hazelton with contempt.
+
+“Now, don’t try to be a hero,” urged Tom teasingly. “There are
+altogether too many green, utterly inexperienced heroes here at
+present. Be useful, Harry, old chum, and let those who are good
+for nothing else be heroes.”
+
+“Following your own advice?” asked Hazelton. “Is that why you
+haven’t a rifle yourself?”
+
+“Why do I need a rifle?” demanded Reade. “I’m a non-combatant.”
+
+“You-----”
+
+“Box the chatter, Harry, and ship it east,” Tom interposed, showing
+signs of interest. Then, in a louder voice, Tom called:
+
+“Dave Fulsbee!”
+
+“Here,” answered the deputy sheriff from his hiding place in the
+brush.
+
+“Do you see that bald knob of rock ahead, to your left; about
+a quarter of a mile away?”
+
+“I do.”
+
+“I make out figures crawling to the cover of the line of brush
+just to the right of the bald knob,” Tom continued. “There are
+eight of them, I think.”
+
+“I see figures moving there,” Dave answered. Then, in a low voice,
+the deputy instructed the engineers on each side of him.
+
+“I see half a dozen more figures---heads, rather---showing just
+at the summit line of the rock itself,” went on Reade.
+
+“Yes; I make ’em,” answered Fulsbee, after a long, keen look.
+
+Again more instructions were given to the engineers.
+
+“Say, I’ve _got_ to have a rifle,” insisted Harry nervously.
+“You know, I always have been ’cracked, on target shooting. This
+is the best practical chance that I’ll ever have.”
+
+“You’ll have to wait your turn, Harry,” Tom urged soothingly.
+
+“My turn?”
+
+“Yes; wait until one of our fellows is badly hit. Then you can
+take up his rifle and move into his place on the line. When you’re
+hit, then I can have the rifle.”
+
+Hazelton made a face, though he said nothing.
+
+Meanwhile Fulsbee’s assistant, the man who had driven the wagon into
+camp, stood silent, motionless, behind the canvas-covered object in
+the bushes just behind the engineer’s fighting line.
+
+“Now, if one of you galoots dares to fire before he gets the word,”
+sounded Dave Fulsbee’s warning voice in the ominous calm that
+followed, “I’ll snatch the offender out of the line and give him
+a good, sound spanking. The only man for me is the man who has
+the nerve to wait when he’s being shot at.”
+
+Crack! Far up on the bald knob a single shot sounded, and a bullet
+struck the ground about six feet from where Tom Reade stood with
+the binocular at his eyes.
+
+Then there came a volley from the right of the rock, followed
+by one from the rock itself.
+
+“Easy, boys,” cautioned Fulsbee, as the bullets tore up the ground
+back of the firing line. “I’ll give you the word when the time
+comes.”
+
+Another volley sounded. Bullets tore up the ground near President
+Newnham, and one leaden pellet carried off that gentleman’s soft
+hat.
+
+“Please lie down, Mr. Newnham,” begged Tom, turning around. Now
+that the fight had opened the cub chief saw less use for the binocular.
+“We can’t have you hit, sir. You’re the head of the company,
+please remember.”
+
+“I don’t like this place, but I’m only one human life here,” the man
+from Broadway replied quietly, gravely. “If other men so readily
+risk their lives for the property of my associates and myself, then
+I’m going to expose myself at least as much as these young men ahead
+of us do.”
+
+“Just one shot apiece,” sounded Dave Fulsbee’s steady voice.
+“Fire where you’ve been told.”
+
+It was an irregular volley that ripped out from the defenders
+of the camp. Half of the marksmen fired to the right of the rook,
+the others at its crest.
+
+Right on top of this came another volley, fired from some new
+point of attack. It filled the air at this end of the camp with
+bullets.
+
+“Livin’ rattlers!”, cried Dave Fulsbee, leaping to his feet. “That’s
+the real attack. Reade, locate that main body and turn us loose on
+’em. If you don’t, the fellows in the real ambush will soon make a
+sieve of this camp. There must be a regiment of ’em!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+WHEN THE CAMP GREW WARM
+
+
+President Newnham had prudently decided to lie down flat on the ground.
+
+Nor was it any reflection on his courage that he did so. He was
+taking no part in the fight, and the leaden tornado that swept
+the camp from some unknown point was almost instantly repeated.
+
+At the same time the marksmen on and at the right of the bald
+knob continued to fire. The camp defenders were in a criss-cross
+of fire that might have shaken the nerves of an old and tried
+soldier.
+
+Tom watched the ground as bullets struck, trying to decide their
+original course from the directions in which the dust flew. Then
+he swung around to the right.
+
+With modern smokeless powder there was no light, bluish haze to
+mark the firing line of the new assailants. Tom Reade had to
+search and explore with his binocular glass until he could make
+out moving heads, waving arms.
+
+“I’ve found ’em, Fulsbee!” young Reade cried suddenly, above the
+noise of rifles within a few yards of where they stood, as the
+engineers made the most of their chances to fire. “Turn the same
+way that I’m looking. See that blasted pine over there to your
+right, about six hundred there to the gully southeast of the tree.
+Got the line? Well, along there there’s a line of men hidden.
+Through the glass I can sometimes make out the flash of their rifles.
+Take the glass yourself, and see.”
+
+Dave Fulsbee snatched the binoculars, making a rapid survey.
+
+“Reade,” he admitted, “you have surely located that crowd.”
+
+“Now, go after them with your patent hay rake,” quivered Tom,
+feeling the full excitement of the thing in this tantalizing cross
+fire. Then the cub added, with a sheepish grin:
+
+“I hope you’ll scare ’em, instead of hitting ’em, Dave.”
+
+Fulsbee stepped over to his assistant. Between them they swung
+the machine gun around, the assistant wrenching off the canvas
+cover. Fulsbee rapidly sighted the piece for six hundred yards.
+The assistant stood by to feed belts of cartridges, while Dave took
+his post at the firing mechanism.
+
+Cr-r-r-r-rack! sounded the machine gun, spitting forth a pelting
+storm of lead. As the piece continued to disgorge bullets at
+the rate of six hundred a minute, Dave, a grim smile on his lips,
+swung the muzzle of the piece so as to spread the fire along the
+entire line of the main ambush.
+
+“Take the glass,” Tom roared in Harry’s ear, above the din. “See
+how Fulsbee is throwing up dust and bits of rock all along that
+rattled line.”
+
+Hazelton watched, his face showing an appreciative grin.
+
+“It has the scoundrels scared and going!” Hazelton yelled back.
+
+Fully fifteen hundred cartridges did the machine gun deliver up
+and down that line.
+
+Then, suddenly, Dave Fulsbee swung the gun around, delivering
+a hailstorm of bullets against the bald knob rock and the bushes
+to the right of it.
+
+“There’s the answer!” gleefully uttered Hazelton, who had just
+handed the glass back to his chum.
+
+The “answer” was a fluttering bit of white cloth tied to a rifle
+and hoisted over the bushes at the right of the bald knob.
+
+“Who do you suppose is holding the white cloth?” chuckled Tom.
+
+“I can’t guess,” Harry confessed.
+
+“Our old and dangerous friend Peter,” Tom laughed.
+
+“Bad Pete!”
+
+“No; Scared Pete.”
+
+There was a sudden twinkle in Hazelton’s eyes as he espied Dave
+Fulsbee’s rifle lying on the ground beside the machine gun.
+
+In another instant Harry had that rifle and was back at Tom’s
+side.
+
+Harry threw open the magazine, making sure that there were cartridges
+in the weapon. Then he dropped to one knee, taking careful sight
+in the direction of the white flag.
+
+“You idiot---what are you doing?” blazed Tom.
+
+The fire from the camp had died out. That from the assailants
+beyond had ceased at least thirty seconds earlier.
+
+One sharp report broke the hush that followed.
+
+“Who’s doing that work? Stop it!” ordered Fulsbee, turning
+wrathfully.
+
+“I’m through,” grinned Harry meekly.
+
+“What do you mean by shooting at a flag of truce?” demanded the
+deputy sheriff angrily.
+
+“I didn’t,” Harry argued, laying the rifle down on the ground.
+“I sent one in with my compliments, to see whether the fellow
+with the white rag would get the trembles. I guess he did, for
+the white rag has gone out of sight.”
+
+“They may start the firing again,” uttered Dave Fulsbee. “They’ll
+feel that you don’t respect their flag of truce.”
+
+“I didn’t feel a heap of respect for the fellow that held up the
+white flag,” Hazelton admitted, with another grin. “It was Bad
+Pete, and I wanted to see what his nerve was like when someone
+else was doing the shooting and he was the target.”
+
+“Peter simply flopped and dropped his gun, Tom declared.
+
+“Say,” muttered Harry, his face showing real concern, “I hope
+I didn’t hit him.”
+
+“Did you aim at him?” demanded Tom.
+
+“I did not.”
+
+“Then there _is_ some chance that Peter was hit,” Tom confessed.
+“Harry, when you’re shooting at a friend, and in a purely hospitable
+way, always aim straight for him. Then the poor fellow will have
+a good chance to get off with a whole skin!”
+
+“Cut out that line of talk,” ordered Hazelton, his face growing
+red. “Back in the old home days, Tom, you’ve seen me do some
+great shooting.”
+
+“With the putty-blower---yes,” Tom admitted, with a chuckle.
+“Say, wasn’t Old Dut Jones, of the Central Grammar, rough on boys
+who used putty-blowers in the schoolroom?”
+
+“If Pete was hit, it wasn’t my shot that did it,” muttered Harry,
+growing redder still. “I aimed for the centre of that white rag.
+If we ever come across the rag we’ll find my bullet hole through
+it. That was what I hit.”
+
+Deputy Dave’s assistant was now cleaning out the soot-choked barrels
+of the machine gun, that the piece might be fit for use again as soon
+as the barrels had cooled.
+
+“I reckon,” declared Dave, “that our friends have done their worst.
+It’s my private wager that they’re now doing a foot race for the
+back trails.”
+
+“Is any one of our fellows hit?” called Tom, striding over to
+the late firing line. “Anyone hit? If so, we must take care
+of him at once.”
+
+Tom went the length of the line, only to discover that none of
+the camp’s defenders had been injured, despite the shower of bullets
+that had been poured in during the brief but brisk engagement.
+Three of the engineers displayed clothing that had been pierced
+by bullets.
+
+“Dave,” called Tom, “how soon will it be safe to send over to
+the late strongholds and find out whether any of Naughty Peter’s
+friends have any hurts that demand Doc Gitney’s attention?”
+
+“Huh! If any of the varmints are hit, I reckon they can wait,”
+muttered Fulsbee.
+
+“Not near this camp!” retorted Reade with spirit. “If any human
+being around here has been hurt he must have prompt care. How
+soon will it be safe to start?”
+
+“I don’t know how soon it will be safe,” Dave retorted. “I want
+to take about a half dozen of the young fellows, on horseback,
+and ride over just to see if we can draw any fire. That will
+show whether the rascals have quit their ambushes.”
+
+“If they haven’t,” mocked Tom, “they’ll also show your little
+party some new gasps in the way of excitement.”
+
+Nevertheless Reade did not object when Fulsbee called for volunteers.
+If any new firing was to be encountered it was better to risk
+a small force rather than a large one.
+
+Harry Hazelton was one of the six volunteers who rode out with
+Deputy Dave. Though they searched the country for miles they
+did not encounter any of the late raiders. Neither did they find
+any dead or wounded men.
+
+The abandoned transits and other instruments and implements were
+found and brought back to camp.
+
+While this party was absent Tom took Mr. Newnham back to headquarters
+tent, where he explained, in detail, all that had been accomplished
+and all that was now being done.
+
+Late in the afternoon Dave Fulsbee and his little force returned. Tom
+listened attentively to the report made by the sheriff’s officer.
+
+“They’ve cheated you out of one day’s work, anyway,” muttered the
+man from Broadway, rather fretfully.
+
+“We can afford to lose the time,” Tom answered almost carelessly.
+“Our field work is well ahead. It’s the construction work that
+is bothering me most. I hope soon to have news as to whether the
+construction outfit has been attacked.”
+
+“The wires are all up again, sir,” reported the operator, pausing
+at the doorway of the tent. “The men you sent back have mended
+all the breaks. I’ve just heard from the construction camp that
+none of the unknown scoundrels have been heard from there.”
+
+“They found you so well prepared here,” suggested President Newnham,
+“that the rascals have an idea that the construction camp is also well
+guarded. I imagine we’ve heard the last of the opposition.”
+
+“Then you’re going to be fooled, sir,” Tom answered, very decisively.
+“For my part, I believe that the tactics of the gloom department of the
+W.C. & A. have just been commenced. Fighting men of a sort are to be
+had cheap in these mountains, and the W.C. & A. railroad is playing a
+game that it’s worth millions to win. They’re resolved that we shan’t
+win. And I, Mr. Newnham, am determined that we shall win!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+SHERIFF GREASE DROPS DAVE
+
+
+Tom’s prediction came swiftly true in a score of ways.
+
+The gloom department of the W.C. & A. immediately busied itself
+with the public.
+
+The “gloom department” is a comparatively new institution in some
+kinds of high finance circles. Its mission is to throw gloom
+over the undertakings of a rival concern. At the same time, through
+such matter as it can manage to have printed in some sorts of
+newspapers the gloom department seeks to turn the public against
+its business rivals.
+
+That same day news was flashed all over the country that a party
+of railway engineers, led by a mad deputy sheriff had wantonly
+fired on a party of travelers who had had the misfortune to get upon
+the building railway’s right of way.
+
+In many parts of Colorado a genuine indignation was aroused against
+the S.B. & L. President Newnham sought to correct the wrong impression,
+but even his carefully thought out statements were misconstrued.
+
+The W.C. & A., though owned mainly abroad, had some clever American
+politicians of the worst sort in its service. Many of these men
+were influential to some extent in Colorado.
+
+The sheriff of the county was approached and inflamed by some of
+these politicians, with the result that the sheriff hastened to the
+field camp, where he publicly dismissed Dave Fulsbee from his force
+of deputies. The sheriff solemnly closed his fiery speech by
+demanding Dave’s official badge.
+
+“That’s funny, but don’t mind, Dave,” laughed Tom, as he witnessed
+the handing over of the badge. “You won’t be out of work.”
+
+“Won’t be out of work, eh?” demanded Sheriff Grease hotly. “Just
+let him wait and see. There isn’t a man in the county who wants
+Dave Fulsbee about now.”
+
+“Then what a disappointed crowd they’re going to be,” remarked
+Tom pleasantly, “for Mr. Newnham is going to make Dave chief of
+detectives for the company, at a salary of something like six
+thousand a year.
+
+“He is, oh?” gulped down Sheriff Grease. “I’ll bet he won’t. I’ll
+protest against that, right from the start.”
+
+“Dave will be our chief of detectives, if you protest all night
+and some more in the morning,” returned Tom Reade. “And Dave,
+I reckon, is going to need a force of at least forty men under
+him. Dave will be rather important in the county, won’t he, sheriff,
+if he has forty men under him who feel a good deal like voting the
+way that Dave believes? A forty-man boss is quite a little figure
+in politics, isn’t he, sheriff?”
+
+Grease turned nearly purple in the face, choking and sputtering
+in his wrath.
+
+“Come along, Dave, and see if that job as chief detective is open
+today,” urged Tom, drawing one arm through Fulsbee’s. “If you’re
+interested in knowing the news, sheriff, you might wait.”
+
+“I’ll-----” ground out Grease, gritting his teeth and clenching
+one fist. Tom waited patiently for the county officer to finish.
+Then, as he didn’t go further, Reade rejoined, half mockingly:
+
+“Exactly, sheriff. That’s just what I thought you’d do.”
+
+Then Tom dragged Dave down to the headquarters tent, where they
+found the president of the road.
+
+“Mr. Newnham,” began Tom gravely, “the sheriff has just come to
+camp and has discharged Fulsbee from his force of deputies, just
+because Fulsbee acted as a real law officer and stopped the raid
+on the road. I have told Mr. Fulsbee, before Sheriff Grease, that
+you are going to make him chief of detectives for the road at a
+salary of about six thousand a year.”
+
+Mr. Newnham displayed his astonishment very openly, though he
+did not speak at first.
+
+“That’s all right,” replied President Newnham. “Mr. Fulsbee,
+do you accept the offer of six thousand as chief detective for
+the road,”
+
+“Does a man accept an invitation to eat when he’s hungry?” replied
+Dave rather huskily.
+
+“Then it’s settled,” put in Tom, anxious to clinch the matter,
+for he had a very shrewd idea that he would need Dave badly ere
+long. “Now, Mr. Newnham, until we get everything running smoothly,
+Mr. Fulsbee ought to have a force of about forty men. They will
+cost seventy-five dollars a month, per man, with an allowance
+for horses, forage, etc. Hadn’t Mr. Fulsbee better get his force
+together as soon as possible? For I am certain, sir, that the
+next move by the opposition will be to tear up and blow up our
+tracks at some unguarded points. At the same time, sir, I feel
+certain that we can get far more protection from Chief of Detectives
+Fulsbee’s men than from a man like Sheriff Grease.”
+
+“Reade?” returned President Newnham, “it is plain to be seen that
+you lose no time in making your plans or in arranging to put them
+into execution. I imagine you’re right, for you’ve been right in
+everything so far. So arrange with Mr. Fulsbee for whatever you
+think may be needed.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” murmured Tom. Then he signaled Fulsbee to get
+out of the tent, and followed that new official.
+
+“Never hang around, Dave, after you’ve got what you want,” chuckled
+Tom. “Hello, Mr. Sheriff! This is just a line to tell you that
+Fulsbee has a steady job with the company, and that he’ll need
+the services of at least forty men, all of whom must be voters
+in this county. The pay will be seventy-five a month and keep, with
+extra allowance for horses.”
+
+Sheriff Grease didn’t look much more pleasant than he felt.
+
+“Are you homeward bound---when you go?” continued Reade.
+
+The sheriff nodded.
+
+“Then you might spread the word that men are needed, and tell
+the best men to apply to Dave Fulsbee, at this camp,” suggested
+Tom. “Be strong on the point that all applicants have to be voters
+in this county.”
+
+“I will,” nodded the sheriff, choking down his wrath by a great
+effort. “Dave won’t have any trouble in getting good men when
+I spread the word. You’re a mighty good fellow, Dave. I always
+said it,” added the sheriff. “I’m sorry I had to be rough with
+you, but---but-----”
+
+“Of course we understand here that orders from a political boss
+have to be obeyed,” Tom added good-naturedly. “We won’t over-blame
+you, Mr. Grease.”
+
+The sheriff rode away, Tom’s smiling eyes following him.
+
+“That touch about your having forty voters at your beck and call
+must have stuck in the honorable sheriff’s crop, Dave,” chuckled
+the cub chief engineer.
+
+“I reckon it does,” drawled Dave. “A man like Grease can’t understand
+that a man of my kind wouldn’t ask any fellow working for him
+what ticket he voted for on election day. You certainly hit the
+sheriff hard, Mr. Reade. In the first place, six thousand a year
+is a lot more money than the sheriff gets himself. Forty voters
+are fully as many as he can control, for which reason Grease,
+in his mind’s eye, sees me winning his office away from him any day
+that I want to do so.”
+
+Ere three days had passed Sheriff Grease had lost fully half of
+his own force, and some of his controlled voters as well, for many
+of his deputies flocked to serve under Dave Fulsbee. The rest of
+the needed detectives also came in, and Dave was soon busy posting
+his men to patrol the S.B. & L. and protect the workers against any
+more raids by armed men.
+
+After a fortnight student Reynolds recovered sufficiently to be sent
+to Denver, there to complete his work of recovering from his wound.
+President Newnham also saw to it that Reynolds was well repaid for
+his services.
+
+The camp moved on. Soon Lineville was sighted from the advanced
+camp of the engineers. As Lineville was to be the western terminus
+of the new railroad the work of the field party was very nearly
+finished.
+
+President Newnham, who was all anxiety to see the first train run
+over the road, remained with the field engineers.
+
+“I couldn’t sleep at night, if I were anywhere else than here,”
+explained the president, “though I feel assured now that the W.C.
+& A. will make no more efforts, in the way of violence; to prevent
+us from finishing the building of the road.”
+
+“Then you’re more trustful than I am,” smiled Tom Reade. “What’s
+worrying me most of all is that I can’t quite fathom in what way
+the W.C. & A’s gloom department will plan to stop us. That they
+have some plan---and a rascally one---I’m as certain, sir, as I am
+that I’m now speaking with you.”
+
+“Has Fulsbee any suspicions?” inquired Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Loads of ’em,” declared Tom promptly.
+
+“What does he think the W.C. & A. will try to do?”
+
+“Dave’s suspicions, Mr. Newnham, aren’t any more definite than mine.
+He feels certain, however, that we’re going to have a hard fight
+before we get the road through.”
+
+“Then I hope the opposition won’t be able to prevent us from finishing,”
+murmured Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Oh, the enemy won’t be able to hinder us,” replied Tom confidently.
+“You have a Fulsbee and a Reade on the job, sir. Don’t worry.
+I’m not doing any real worrying, and I promise you that I’m not
+going to be beaten.”
+
+“It will be a genuine wonder if Reade is beaten,” reflected Mr.
+Newnham, watching the cub’s athletic figure as Tom walked through
+the centre of the camp. “I never knew a man of any age who was
+more resourceful or sure to win than this same cub, Tom Reade,
+whose very name was unknown to me a few weeks ago. Yet I shiver!
+I can’t help it. Men just as resourceful as Tom Reade are sometimes
+beaten to a finish!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+MR. NEWNHAM DROPS A BOMB
+
+
+The field work was done. Yet the field engineers were not dismissed.
+Instead, they were sent back along the line. The construction
+gang was still twelve miles out of Lineville, and the time allowed
+by the charter was growing short.
+
+At Denver certain politicians seemed to have very definite information
+that the S.B. & L. R.R., was not going to finish the building of
+the road and the operating of the first through train within charter
+time.
+
+Where these politicians had obtained their news they did not take the
+trouble to state.
+
+However, they seemed positive that, under the terms of the charter,
+the state would take over as much of the railroad as was finished,
+pay an appraisal price for it, and then turn the road over to
+the W.C. & A. promoters to finish and use as part of their own
+railway system.
+
+These same politicians, by the way, were a handful of keen,
+unscrupulous men who derived their whole income from politics, and
+who had always been identified with movements that the better
+people of the state usually opposed.
+
+Mr. Thurston and his assistant, Blaisdell, were now able to be
+up and to move about a little, but were not yet able to travel
+forward to the point that the construction force had now reached.
+Neither Thurston nor Blaisdell was in fit shape to work, and
+would not be for some weeks to come.
+
+Mr. Newnham, who had learned in these weeks to ride a horse, came
+along in saddle as Tom and Harry stood watching the field camp
+that was now being rapidly taken down by the few men left behind.
+
+“Idling, as usual, Reade?” smiled the president of the road.
+
+“This time I seem to have a real excuse, sir,” chuckled Tom.
+“My work is finished. There isn’t a blessed thing that I could
+do, if I wanted to. By tomorrow I suppose you will be paying
+me off and letting me go.”
+
+“Let you go---before the road is running?” demanded Mr. Newnham,
+in astonishment. “Reade, have you noted any signs of my mind
+failing lately?”
+
+“I haven’t, sir.”
+
+“Then why should you imagine that I am going to let my chief engineer
+go before the road is in operations”
+
+“But I was acting chief, sir, only of the field work.”
+
+“Reade,” continued Mr. Newnham, “I have something to tell you.
+Thurston has left our employ. So has Blaisdell. They are not
+dissatisfied in any way, but neither man is yet fit to work.
+Besides, both are tired of the mountains, and want to go east
+together as soon as possible and take up some other line of
+engineering work. So---well, Reade, if you want it, you are
+now chief engineer of the S.B. & L. in earnest.”
+
+“Don’t trifle with me, sir!” begged Tom incredulously. “I’m too
+far from home.”
+
+“No one has ever accused me of being a humorist,” replied Mr.
+Newnham dryly. “Now tell me, Reade, whether you want the post I
+have offered you?”
+
+“Want it?” echoed Tom. “Of course I do. Yet doesn’t it seem
+too ‘fresh’ in a cub like myself to take such a post?”
+
+“You’ve won it,” replied the president. “It’s also true that
+you’re only a cub engineer in years, and there are many greater
+engineers than yourself in the country. You have executive ability,
+however, Reade. You are able to start a thing, and then put it
+through on time---or before. The executive is the type of man who
+is most needed in this or any other country.”
+
+“Is an executive a lazy fellow who can make others work!” asked
+Reade.
+
+“No; an executive is a man who can choose other men, and can wisely
+direct them to big achievements. An executive is a director of
+fine team play. That describes you, Reade. However---you haven’t
+yet accepted the position as chief engineer of the S.B. & L.”
+
+“I’ll end your suspense then, sir,” smiled the cub. “I _do_ accept,
+and with a big capital ‘A’.”
+
+“As to your salary,” continued Mr. Newnham, “nothing has been
+said about that, and nothing need be said until we see whether
+the road is operating in season to save its charter. If we save
+our charter and the road, your salary will be in line with the
+size of the achievement.”
+
+“If we should lose the charter, sir,” Tom retorted, his face clouding,
+“I don’t believe I’d take any interest in the salary question.
+Money is a fine thing, but the game---the battle---is twenty
+times more interesting. However, I’m going to predict, Mr. Newnham,
+that the road WILL operate on time.”
+
+“I believe you’re going to make good, Reade, no matter what a
+small coterie of politicians at Denver may think. I never met
+a man who had success stamped more plainly on his face than you
+have. By the way, I shall ask you to keep Mr. Howe as an assistant.
+You still have the appointment of one other assistant, in place
+of Mr. Blaisdell.”
+
+“I know the fellow I’d like to appoint,” cried Tom eagerly.
+
+“If you’re sure about him, then go ahead and appoint him,” responded
+the president of the S.B. & L. railway.
+
+“Hazelton!” proclaimed Tom. “Good, old dependable Harry Hazelton!”
+
+“Hazelton would be a wise choice,” nodded Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Harry!” called Reade, as his chum appeared in the distance.
+“Come here hustle!”
+
+Mr. Newnham turned away as Hazelton came forward. Tom quickly
+told his chum the news.
+
+“I? Assistant chief engineer?” gasped Harry, turning red. “Whew,
+but that’s great! However, I’m not afraid of falling down, Tom,
+with you to steer me. What’s the pay of the new job!”
+
+“Not decided,” rejoined Tom. “Wait until we get the road through
+and the charter is safe.”
+
+“Never mind the wages. The job’s the thing, after all!” cried
+Harry, his face aglow. “Whew! I’ll send a letter home tonight
+with the news.”
+
+“Make it a small post card, then, concealed under a postage stamp,”
+counseled Reade dryly. “We’ve work ahead of us---not writing.”
+
+“What’s the first thing you’re going to do?” inquired Hazelton.
+
+“The first thing will be to get on the job.”
+
+“You’re going back to the construction force?”
+
+“I am.”
+
+“When?”
+
+“Well, we start within five minutes.”
+
+“Whew!”
+
+His face still aglow with happiness, Harry Hazelton bounded off
+to his tent. Tom called to one of the men to saddle two horses,
+and then followed.
+
+“You’re going back to the construction camp?” inquired Mr. Newnham,
+looking in at the doorway.
+
+“As fast as horses can take us, sir,” Tom replied, as he whipped
+out a clean flannel shirt and drew it over his head.
+
+“I’m going with you,” replied Mr. Newnham.
+
+“You’ll ride fast, if you go with us, sir,” called Tom.
+
+“I can stand it, if you can, Reade. Your enthusiasm and speed
+are ‘catching,’” replied the president, with a laugh, as he started
+off to give orders about his horse.
+
+“If the president is going with us, then we’ll have to take two
+of Dave Fulsbee’s men with us,” mused Tom aloud to his chum.
+“It would never do to have our president captured just before
+we’re ready to open the road to traffic.”
+
+The orders were accordingly given. Tom then appointed one of
+the chainmen to command the camp until the construction gang came up.
+
+Just seven minutes after he had given the first order, Tom Reade
+was in saddle. Hazelton was seated on another horse some thirty
+seconds afterward. The two railroad detectives rode forward,
+halting near by, and all waited for Mr. Newnham.
+
+Nor did the president of the S.B. & L. delay them long. During
+his weeks in camp in the Rockies the man from Broadway had learned
+something of the meaning of the word “hustle.”
+
+As the party started Tom ordered one of the detectives to ride
+two hundred yards in advance of the party, the other the same
+distance to the rear.
+
+“Set a good pace, and keep it,” called Tom along the trail.
+Shortly after dark the party reached the construction camp, which
+now numbered about five hundred men.
+
+Assistant Chief Engineer Howe appeared more than a little astonished
+when he learned that Tom Reade was the actual chief engineer of
+the road. However, the man who had been in charge so far of the
+construction work made no fuss about being supplanted.
+
+“Show me what part of the work you want me to handle,” offered
+Howe, “and you’ll find me right with you, Mr. Reade.”
+
+“Thank you,” responded Tom, holding out his hand. “I’m glad you
+feel no jealousy or resentment. There’s just one thing in life
+for all of us, now, and that is to win the fight.”
+
+Howe produced the plans and reports, and the three---for Hazelton
+was of their number---sat up until long after midnight laying out
+plans for pushing the work faster and harder.
+
+At four in the morning, while it was still dark, Tom was up again.
+He sat at the desk, going over the work once more until half
+past five o’clock. Then he called Harry and Howe, and the trio
+of chiefs had a hurried breakfast together.
+
+At six in the morning Mr. Newnham appeared, just in time to find
+Tom and Harry getting into saddle.
+
+“Not going to stay behind and sit in an easy chair this morning,
+Reade?” called the president.
+
+“Not this, or any other morning, sir,” Tom replied.
+
+“You amaze me!”
+
+“This construction work requires more personal attention, sir.
+I may have twenty minutes to dream, in the afternoon, but my
+mornings are mortgaged each day, from four o’clock on.”
+
+An hour later Mr. Howe joined Reade and Hazelton in the field.
+Tom had already prodded three or four foremen, showing them how
+their gangs were losing time.
+
+“If we get the road through on time, and save the charter,” Tom
+called, on leaving each working party, “every laborer and foreman
+is to have an extra week’s pay for his loyalty to us.”
+
+In every instance that statement brought forth a cheer.
+
+“Did Mr. Newnham tell you that you could promise that?” inquired
+Harry.
+
+“No,” said Tom shortly.
+
+“Then aren’t you going a bit far, perhaps!”
+
+“I don’t care,” retorted Tom. “Victory is the winning of millions;
+defeat is the loss of millions. Do you imagine Mr. Newnham will
+care about a little thing such as I’ve promised the men? Harry,
+our president is a badly worried man, though he doesn’t allow
+himself to show it. Once the road is finished, operating and
+safe, he won’t care what money he has to spend in rewards. He-----”
+
+Tom did not finish his words. Instead he dug his heels into his
+pony, bringing his left hand down hard on that animal’s flank.
+
+“Yi, yi, yi! Git!” called Tom, bending low over his mount’s neck.
+He drove straight ahead. Hazelton looked astonished for a space
+of five seconds, then started in pursuit of his chum and chief.
+
+It was not long ere Tom reined in, holding up a hand as a signal
+to Harry to do the same thing.
+
+“Here, hold my horse, and stay right here,” ordered the young chief.
+
+“Tom, what on earth-----”
+
+Tom Reade was already a hundred yards away, running in amid the
+brush. At last he halted, studying the ground earnestly. Then
+Reade disappeared.
+
+“One thing I know, anyway,” muttered the puzzled Hazelton, “Tom
+is not crazy, and he doesn’t dash off like that unless he has
+something real on his mind.” The minutes passed. At last Tom
+came back, walking energetically. He took his horse’s bridle
+and leaded into saddle.
+
+“Harry, ride back, hard, and send me two or three of the railroad
+detectives, unless you happen to meet some of them this side of
+the camp. I want the men on the rush. Don’t fail to tell ’em
+that.”
+
+“Any---er---explanations” queried Hazelton.
+
+“For you---yes---but don’t take the time to pass the explanation
+on to the men. Just hustle ’em here. When I started my horse
+forward it was because I caught sight of ’Gene Black’s head over
+the bush tops. I found a few of his footprints, then lost the
+trail. Send Dave Fulsbee along, too, if you have the luck to
+see him. I want ’Gene Black hunted down before he does some big
+mischief. Now---ride!”
+
+Harry Hazelton went back over the trail at a gallop.
+
+Not until he reached camp did he come upon Fulsbee’s men. These
+he hustled out to find Tom.
+
+Two hours later Reade came back over the trail, at a slow jog.
+The young chief engineer looked more worried than Hazelton had
+ever seen his chum look before.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE TRAP AT THE FINISH
+
+
+A number of days passed, days full of worry for the young chief
+engineer. Yet, outwardly, Tom Reade was as good-humored and cheery
+as ever.
+
+He was sure that his eyes had played him no trick, and that he
+really had seen ’Gene Black in the brush.
+
+The presence of that scoundrel persuaded Tom that someone working
+in the interests of the W.C. & A. Railroad Company was still employing
+Black in an attempt to block the successful completion of the
+S.B. & L.
+
+Moreover, the news that Dave Fulsbee received from Denver showed
+that two of the officials of the W.C. & A. were in that city,
+apparently ready to proceed to get possession of the rival road.
+
+Politicians asserted that it was a “cinch” that the new road would
+fall short of the charter requirement in the matter of time.
+
+“All this confidence on the part of the enemy is pretty fair proof
+that the scoundrels are up to something,” Tom told Mr. Newnham.
+
+“Or else they’re trying to break down our nerve so that we’ll
+fail through sheer collapse,” replied the president of the S.B.
+& L., rubbing his hands nervously. “Reade, why should there be
+such scoundrels in the world?”
+
+“The president is all but completely gone to pieces,” Reade confided
+to his chum. “Say, but I’m glad Mr. Newnham himself isn’t the
+one who has to get the road through in time. If it rested with
+him I’m afraid he’d fizzle. But we’ll pull it through, Harry,
+old chum---we’ll pull it through.”
+
+“If this thing had to last a month more I’m afraid good old Tom
+would go to pieces himself,” thought Harry, as he watched his
+friend stride away. “Tom never gets to his cot now before eleven
+at night, and four thirty in the morning always finds him astir
+again. I wonder if he thinks he’s fooling me by looking so blamed
+cheerful and talking so confidently. Whew! I’d be afraid for
+poor old Tom’s brain if anything should happen to trip us up.”
+
+Harry himself was anxious, but he was not downright nervous.
+He did not feel things as keenly as did his chum; neither was
+Hazelton directly responsible for the success of the big undertaking.
+
+Mile after mile the construction work stretched. Trains were
+running now for work purposes, nearly as far as the line extended.
+
+The telegraph wires ran into the temporary station building at
+Lineville, and the several operators along the line were busy
+carrying orders through the length of the wire service.
+
+Back at Stormburg, where the railroad line began, three trains
+lay on side tracks. These were passenger trains that were to
+run the entire length of the road as soon as it was opened.
+
+Back at Stormburg, also, the new general superintendent slept
+at his office that he might receive messages from President Newnham
+the more quickly.
+
+At Bakerstown a division superintendent was stationed, he, too,
+sleeping at his office.
+
+Once more Tom Reade had brought his work within sight of Lineville.
+In fact, the track extended all but the last mile of the line.
+Ties were down nearly all of the way to the terminal station.
+
+This was the state of affairs at two o’clock in the afternoon.
+Before midnight the last rail must be laid, and the first through
+train from Stormburg must run in. If, at the stroke of midnight,
+the first train had failed to go through, then the charter of
+the S.B. & L. would be forfeited and subject to seizure and sale
+by the state.
+
+Up from Denver some of the worst politicians had come. They were
+quartered at the new little hotel in Lineville. Dave Fulsbee had
+detailed three of his men covertly to watch these same politicians.
+
+Tom, inwardly consumed with fever, outwardly as cheery as human being
+might be, stood watching the laying of the rails over that last
+stretch. The men who could be prevented from dropping in their tracks
+must work until the last rail had been spiked into place. Away up in
+Lineville Harry Hazelton was personally superintending the laying of
+the last ties.
+
+The honk of an automobile horn caused Tom Reade to glance up.
+Approaching him was President Newnham, himself driving the runabout
+that he had had forwarded.
+
+“Reade!” called the president of the S.B. & L., stopping his car, and
+Tom went over to him.
+
+“The suspense is over, at last, Reade,” exclaimed Mr. Newnham, smiling
+broadly. “Look! the road is all but completed. Hundreds of men are
+toiling. The first train left Stormburg this morning. By seven tonight
+you’ll have the last rails in place. Between eight and nine this
+evening the first through train will have rolled into Lineville and we
+shall have won the fight that has brought me many gray hairs. At last
+the worry is over!”
+
+“Of course, sir,” nodded Tom.
+
+“Reade, don’t you really believe that the stress is over---that
+we shall triumph tonight?”
+
+“Of course we shall, sir,” Tom responded. “I have predicted,
+all along, that we’d have the road through in time, haven’t I?”
+
+“And the credit is nearly all yours, Reade,” admitted Mr. Newnham
+gleefully. “Nearly all yours, lad!”
+
+Honk! honk! Unable to remain long at one spot, Mr. Newnham started
+his car again.
+
+Reade felt a depression that he could not shake off.
+
+“It’s just the reaction following the long train,” Tom tried to
+tell himself. “Whew! Until within the last two or three days
+I haven’t half realized how much the strain was taking out of
+me! I’ll wager I’ll sleep, tonight, after I once have the satisfaction
+of seeing the first train roll in!”
+
+By six o’clock Tom felt as though he could hardly stand up. Be
+wondered if his teeth were really chattering, or whether he merely
+imagined it.
+
+To take up his time Tom tried a brisk canter, away from the railroad.
+At seven o’clock he rode into Lineville.
+
+“Tom, Tom!”, bawled Harry, from the centre of a group of workmen.
+“We’ve been looking for you! Come here quickly!”
+
+Tom urged his pony forward to the station from which Hazelton had
+called him.
+
+“Watch this---just watch it!” begged Harry.
+
+Clank! clank! clank! Tom Reade, gazing in fascination, saw
+the last spike of the last rail being driven into place.
+
+“Two sidetracks and switches already up!” called Harry.
+
+Tom threw his bridle to one of the workmen, then sprang from his
+horse. Out of the station came Mr. Newnham, waving a telegram.
+
+“Our first train, with passengers, has just left the station at
+Brand’s Ranch junction, a hundred and ten miles away,” shouted
+the president of the road. “The train should be here long before
+ten o’clock.”
+
+From the crowd a cheer greeted the announcement.
+
+“There’s nothing left but to wait to win,” continued Mr. Newnham.
+
+Five hundred voices in the crowd cheered the announcement. A
+group of five Denver politicians smiled sardonically.
+
+Tom pushed his way gently through the crowd, glancing inside the
+station. There was no one there, save an operator. Closing the
+door behind him, Tom crossed to a seat and sank wearily upon it.
+
+Here he sat for some minutes, to be discovered by the telegraph
+operator when the latter came out to light the lamps in the waiting
+room.
+
+“Mr. Reade is all in, I guess,” thought the operator. “I don’t
+wonder. I hope he goes to sleep where he sits.”
+
+Ten minutes later the receiver of one of the up the terminal station.
+The operator broke in, sending back his response. Then a telegram
+came, which he penned on paper.
+
+“Mr. Reade,” called the operator, “this is for you.”
+
+Tom sat up, brushing his eyes, and read:
+
+“If you can spare time wish you would ride down track to point
+about two miles west of Miller’s where brook crosses under roadbed.
+Have something to show you that will interest you. Nothing serious,
+but will fill you with wonder. My men all along line report all
+safe and going well. Come at once.” (signed) “Dave Fulsbee.”
+
+Tom’s first instinct was to start and tremble. He felt sure that
+Fulsbee had bad news and was trying to conceal the fact until
+he could see the young chief engineer in person.
+
+“But that’s really not Dave’s way,” Reade told himself in the
+next breath. “Fulsbee talks straight out from the shoulder.
+What has he to show me, I wonder! Gracious, how tired I am!
+If Fulsbee knew just how I feel at this moment he wouldn’t send
+for me. But of course he doesn’t know.”
+
+Stepping outside, Tom looked about, espying his pony standing
+where it had been tied to one of the porch pillars of the station.
+
+“I’ll get Harry to ride with me,” Reade thought, but he found
+his chum engaged in testing a stretch of rails near the station,
+a dozen of the college students with him.
+
+“Pshaw! I’m strong enough to ride five miles alone,” muttered
+Tom. “Thank goodness my horse hasn’t been used up. Never mind,
+Tom Reade. To-morrow you can ride as far as you like on the railroad,
+with never a penny of fare to pay, either!”
+
+Unnoticed, the young chief engineer untied his horse in the dark,
+mounted and rode away.
+
+How dark and long the way seemed. Truth to tell, Tom Reade was
+very close to the collapse that seemed bound to follow the reaction
+once his big task was safely over. Only his strength of will
+sustained him. He gripped the pony’s sides with his knees.
+
+“I wouldn’t want anyone to see me riding in this fashion!” muttered
+the lad. “I must look worse than a tenderfoot. Why, I’ll be
+really glad if Dave Fulsbee can ride back with me. I had no idea
+he was so near. I believed him to be at least fifty or sixty
+miles down the line.”
+
+Tom was nearing the place appointed when a sudden whistle rang
+out from the brush beside the track.
+
+Then half a dozen men leaped out into view in the darkness, two
+of them seizing the bridle of his horse.
+
+“Good evening, Reade!” called the mocking voice of ’Gene Black.
+“Down this way to see your first train go through? Stay with
+us, and we’ll show you how it doesn’t get through---not tonight!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+“CAN YOUR ROAD SAVE ITS CHARTER NOW?”
+
+
+“Oh, I guess the train will go through, all right,” replied Tom
+Reade, with much more confidence expressed in his tone than he
+really felt.
+
+“Stay with us and see it go through,” mocked ’Gene Black.
+
+“If it’s just the same to you I’d rather ride on,” Tom proposed.
+
+“But it isn’t all the same to us,” Black chuckled.
+
+“Then I guess I prefer to ride on, anyway.”
+
+“You won’t, though,” snapped Black. “You’ll get off that horse
+and do as we tell you.”
+
+“Eh?” demanded the young chief engineer. He appeared astonished,
+though he was not.
+
+“You came down the line to meet your railroad detective, Fulsbee,”
+Black continued sneeringly. “You’d better give it up.”
+
+“You seem to think you know a good deal about my business,” Tom
+continued.
+
+“I know all about the telegram,” ’Gene retorted. “I sent it---or
+ordered it sent.”
+
+Tom started in earnest this time.
+
+“Did you ever hear of ways of cutting out a telegraph wire and
+then attaching one of the cut ends to a box relay?” queried the
+scoundrel.
+
+“I---I believe I have heard of some such thing,” Reade hesitated.
+“Was that the trick you played on me?”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Gene Black. “We cut the wire just below here.
+We’ve got a box relay on the wire going both ways. Your operators
+can’t use the wire much tonight. Your company can’t use it from
+Lineville at all.”
+
+Tom’s face showed his dismay. ’Gene Black laughed in intense
+enjoyment.
+
+“So you cut the wire, oh, and attached box relays?”
+
+“Surely,” Black nodded.
+
+“I’m glad you confess it,” replied Tom slowly. “Cutting telegraph
+wires, or attaching box relays without proper authority is a felony.
+The punishment is a term in state’s prison.”
+
+“Bosh!” sneered Black. “With all the political pull our crowd
+has behind it do you suppose we fear a little thing like that?”
+
+“I’ll talk the crime over with Dave Fulsbee,” Tom continued.
+
+“A lot of good Fulsbee will do you,” jeered ’Gene. “We have him
+attended to as well as we have you.”
+
+“That’s a lie,” Reade declared coolly.
+
+“Do you want us to show him to you?”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Tom. “You’d have to show me Dave Fulsbee before
+I’d believe you.”
+
+“Yank the cub off that horse!” ordered ’Gene Black harshly.
+
+Three or four men seized Reade, dragging him out of the saddle
+and throwing him to earth. Tom did not resist, for he saw other
+men standing about with revolvers in their hands. He did not
+believe that this desperate crew of worthless characters would
+hesitate long about drilling holes through him.
+
+“Take the horse, you, and ride it away,” directed Black, turning
+to one of the men, who promptly mounted and rode off into the
+darkness. “Tie that cub’s hands behind him,” was Black’s next
+order. “Now, bring him along.”
+
+’Gene Black led the way back from the track and into the woods
+for a few rods. Then the party wheeled, going eastward in a line
+parallel with the track.
+
+Tom did not speak during the journey. It was not his nature to
+use words where they would be worse than wasted.
+
+After proceeding a quarter of a mile or so, Black parted the bushes
+of a dense thicket and led the way inside. At the centre the
+brush had been cleaned out, clearing a circular space about twenty
+feet in diameter and dimly lighted by a lantern placed in the
+centre of the inclosure.
+
+“A snug little place, Reade,” chuckled the scoundrel, turning about
+as Reade was piloted into the retreat. “How do you like it?”
+
+“I like the place a whole lot better than the company,” Tom answered
+promptly.
+
+“What’s the matter with the company?” jeered Black.
+
+“A hangman would feel more at home in a crowd like this.”
+
+“See here, cub! Don’t you try to get funny,” warned Black, his
+eyes snapping dangerously. “If you attempt any of your impudence
+here you’ll soon find out who’s master.”
+
+“Master?” scoffed Tom, his own eyes flashing. “Black, do you
+draw any comfort from feeling that you’re boss of such an outfit?
+Though I daresay that the outfit is better than its boss. However,
+you asked my opinion, and you got it. I’ll give you a little
+more of my opinion, Black, and it won’t cost you a cent.”
+
+He looked steadily into his enemy’s eyes as he continued:
+
+“Black, a good, clean dog wouldn’t willingly stand by this crowd!”
+
+Thump! ’Gene Blacks clenched fist landed in Reade’s face, knocking
+him down.
+
+“Thank you,” murmured Reade, as he sat up.
+
+“Much obliged, are you?” jeered Black.
+
+“Yes,” admitted Tom. “As far as it goes. That was a coward’s
+act---to have a fellow’s hands tied before daring to hit him.”
+
+Black’s face now turned livid with passion.
+
+“Lift the fool to his feet, if he wants to stand,” ordered Black
+savagely. “He’s trying to make me waste my time talking to him.
+Operator, call up Brewster’s and ask if he held the train as
+ordered by wire.”
+
+“Oho!” thought Tom. “So that’s your trick? You have the wire
+in your control, and you’re sending supposed train orders holding
+the train at a station so that it can’t get through You’re a worse
+scoundrel than I thought!”
+
+Off at the edge of the brush, on the inner side, a telegraph instrument
+had been set up on a barrel. From the instrument a wire ran toward
+the track.
+
+In another moment the sounder of the sender was clicking busily.
+There was a pause, then the answer came back:
+Click-click-click-clickety-click!
+
+The operator, a seedy-looking fellow over whose whole appearance
+was written the word “worthless,” swung a lantern so that the light
+fell on a pad of paper before him. Pencil in hand, he took off the
+message as it came.
+
+“Come over here and read it, sir?” inquired the operator.
+
+Black crossed, bending over the sheet. Despite himself the scoundrel
+started. Then he moved so that the light should not fall across
+his face. Plainly Black was greatly disappointed. He swallowed
+hard, then strolled back to the main group, of which Tom was one.
+
+“That’s the way to do business,” announced ’Gene Black, with a
+chuckle. “We sent fake train orders from the top of that barrel,
+and your own railroad operator handed the orders to the conductor
+of your through train. Therefore the train is switched off on
+to the side track at Brewster’s, and the engineer, under the false
+orders, is allowing his steam to cool. Now, do you believe you
+will get your train through tonight?”
+
+“Oh, yes!” yawned Tom coolly. “For you are lying. The message
+that came back over the wire from our operator at Brewster’s read
+in these words: ‘Showed your order to train conductor. He refused
+order, saying that it was not signed properly. Train has proceeded.’”
+
+It was an incautious speech for Tom Reade Black fairly glared into
+his eyes.
+
+“So you can pick up telegraph messages by the sounds” ’Gene demanded.
+
+“’Most anyone can who has ever worked over a telegraph key,” Tom
+admitted.
+
+Now that the secret was out, Black plainly showed his anger over
+the fact that the conductor had refused train orders at Brewster’s.
+“You S.B. & L. fellows have put up some trick to beat us off!” he
+declared, looking accusingly into Tom’s face.
+
+“What of it?” Reade inquired. “It’s our railroad, isn’t it? Can’t
+we do what we please with our own road?”
+
+“It won’t be your road after tonight!” Black insisted, grinding
+his teeth in his rage. “Fortunately, we have other ways of stopping
+that train from getting through. You’ll soon know it, too.”
+
+Black called to the tramp operator.
+
+“My man, call up the box relay fellow below here.”
+
+The sounder clicked busily for some moments. “I have the other
+box relay man,” declared the operator.
+
+“Then send this, very carefully,” Black continued hoarsely:
+“X-x-x---a-a-a---b-b-b.”
+
+The operator repeated it. Black nodded. Once more the instrument
+clicked.
+
+“The other box relay man signals that he has it,” nodded Black’s
+present operator.
+
+“Listen! Everyone of you! Not a sound in this outfit,” commanded
+’Gene Black.
+
+For fully three minutes the intense silence continued. Then Black
+turned again to the operator, saying:
+
+“Ask the other box relay man if anything has happened near him?”
+
+A minute later Black’s operator reported:
+
+“He says: ‘Yes; happened successfully.’”
+
+“Good!” laughed Black, a look of fierce Joy lighting up his eyes.
+“Now, Reade, I guess you’ll admit yourself beaten. An electric
+spark has touched off a charge of giant powder under the roadbed.
+The rails have been blown skyward and a big hole torn out of
+the roadbed itself. Even if you had a wrecking crew at the spot
+at this moment the road couldn’t be prepared for traffic inside
+of twenty-four hours. NOW, will your through train reach Lineville
+tonight? Can your road save its charter _now_?”
+
+Tom Reade’s face turned deathly white.
+
+’Gene Black stood before him, gazing tauntingly into the eyes
+of the Young Chief engineer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+BLACK’S TRUMP CARD
+
+
+“You scoundrel---you unhung imitation of Satan himself!” gasped
+Reade, great beads of perspiration standing out on his face.
+
+“Oho! We’re fools, are we?” sneered Black “We’re people whom
+you can beat with your cheap little tricks about a different signature
+for each station on the line, are we? For that was why the conductor
+refused the false order at Brewster’s. He has a code of signatures
+for train orders---a different signature to be used for messages
+at each station?”
+
+Black’s keen mind had solved the reason for the conductor’s refusal
+to hold his train on a siding. The conductor _had_ been supplied
+with a code list of signatures---a different one for each station
+along the line.
+
+“Now, you know,” mocked Black, enjoying every line of anxiety
+written on Tom Reade’s face, “that we have you knocked silly.
+You know, now, that your train can’t get through by tonight---probably
+not even by tomorrow night. You realize at last---eh?---that
+you’ve lost your train and your charter---your railroad?”
+
+“I wasn’t thinking of the train, or of the road,” Tom groaned.
+“What I’m thinking of is the train, traveling at high speed,
+running into that blown-out place. The train will be ditched
+and the crew killed. A hundred and fifty passengers with them---many
+of them state officials. Oh, Black, I wouldn’t dare stand in
+your shoes now! The whole state---the entire country---will unite
+in running you down. You can never hope to escape the penalty
+of your crime!”
+
+“What are you talking about?” sneered Black. “Do you think I’m
+fool enough to ditch the train? No, sir! Don’t believe it.
+I’m not running my neck into a noose of that kind. A cluster
+of red lights has been spread along the track before the blow-out.
+The engineer will see the signals and pull his train up---he
+has to, by law! No one on the train will be hurt, but the train
+simply can’t get through!”
+
+“Oh, if the train is safe, I don’t care so much,” replied Reade,
+the color slowly returning to his face. “As for getting through
+tonight, the S.B. & L. has a corps of engineers and a full staff
+in other departments. Black, you’ll lose after all your trouble.”
+
+“Humph!” muttered Black unbelievingly. “Your train will have
+to get through in less than three hours, Reade!”
+
+“It’ll do it, somehow,” smiled Tom.
+
+“Yes; your engineers will bring it through, somehow,” taunted
+Black. “We have the chief of that corps with us right now.”
+
+“That’s all right,” retorted Tom. “You’re welcome to me, if I
+can be of any real comfort to you. But you forget that you haven
+it my assistant. Harry Hazelton is at large, among his own friends.
+Harry will see the train through tonight. Never worry.”
+
+Click-click-click-click! sounded the machine on the barrel.
+
+“It’s the division superintendent at Lineville, calling up Brewster’s,”
+announced the operator.
+
+“Answer for Brewster, then,” directed Black. “Let us see what the
+division super wants, anyway.”
+
+More clicking followed, after which the operator explained:
+
+“Division super asks Brewster if through train has passed there.”
+
+“Answer, ‘Yes; twelve minutes ago,’” directed Black.
+
+The instrument clicked furiously for a few moments.
+
+“The division super keeps sending, ‘Sign, sign, sign!’” explained
+the operator at the barrel. “So I’ve kept on signing ‘Br,’ ‘Br,’
+over and over again. That’s the proper signature for Brewster’s.”
+
+Again the machine clicked noisily.
+
+“Still insisting on the signature,” grinned the operator uneasily.
+
+“Do you know the name of the operator at Brewster’s?” demanded
+’Gene Black.
+
+“Yes,” nodded the man at the barrel. “The operator at Brewster’s
+is a chap named Havens.”
+
+“Then send the signature, ‘Havens, operator, Brewster’s,” ordered Black.
+
+Still the machine clicked insistently.
+
+“Super still yells for my signature,” explained the man at the
+barrel desk. “He demands to know whether I’m really the operator
+at Brewster’s, or whether I’ve broken in on the wire at some other
+point.”
+
+“Don’t answer the division super any further, then,” snorted Black
+disgustedly.
+
+Tom, with his ability to read messages, was enjoying the whole
+situation until Black, with a sudden flash of his eyes, turned upon
+the cub chief engineer.
+
+“Reade,” he hissed, “you must know the proper signature for tonight
+for the operator at Brewster’s to use.”
+
+“Nothing doing,” grunted Tom.
+
+“Give us that signature the right one for Brewster’s.”
+
+“Nothing doing,” Tom repeated.
+
+“Put a pistol muzzle to his ear and see his memory brighten,”
+snarled the scoundrel.
+
+One of the hard-looking men behind Tom obeyed. Reade, it must
+be confessed, shivered slightly when he felt the cold touch of
+steel behind his ear.
+
+“Give us the proper signature!” insisted ’Gene.
+
+“Nothing doing,” Tom insisted.
+
+“Give us the right signature, or take the consequences!”
+
+“I can’t give it to you,” Tom replied steadily. “I don’t know
+the signature.”
+
+“You lie!”
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+Tom had gotten his drawl back.
+
+“Do you want to have the trigger of that pistol pulled?” cried
+’Gene Black hoarsely.
+
+“I certainly don’t,” Tom confessed. “Neither do I doubt that
+you fellows are scoundrels enough to do such a trick. However,
+I can’t help you, even though I have to lose my life for my ignorance.
+I honestly don’t know the right signature for Brewster’s tonight.
+That information doesn’t belong to the engineering department,
+anyway.”
+
+“Shall I pull the trigger, Black?” asked the man who held the
+weapon to Reade’s head.
+
+“Yes; if he doesn’t soon come to his senses,” snarled Black.
+
+“I’ve already told you,” persisted Tom, “that I couldn’t give
+you the proper signature, even if I wanted to---which I don’t.”
+
+“You may be glad to talk before we’re through with you tonight,”
+threatened Black. “The time for trifling is past. Either give
+us that signature or else prepare to take the consequences. For
+the last time, are you going to answer my question?”
+
+“I’ve told you the truth,” Reade insisted. “If you won’t believe
+me, then there is nothing more to be said.”
+
+“You lie, if you insist that you don’t know the signatures for
+tonight!” cried Black savagely.
+
+“All right, then,” sighed Tom. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
+
+From off in the distance came the shrill too-oo-oot! of a locomotive.
+Tom Reade heard, and, despite his fears for his safety, an exclamation
+of joy escaped him.
+
+“Oh, you needn’t build any false hopes,” sneered Black. “That
+whistle doesn’t come from the through train. It’s one of the
+locomotives that the S.B. & L. had delivered over the D.V. & S.,
+which makes a junction with your road at Lineville. A locomotive
+or a train at the Lineville end won’t help your crowd any. That
+isn’t the through train required by the charter. The S.B. & L.
+loses the game, just the same.”
+
+“Oh, I don’t know,” Tom argued. “The S.B. & L. road was finished
+within charter time. No railroad can get a train through if the
+opposition sends out men to dynamite the tracks.”
+
+“Humph!” jeered Black maliciously. “That dynamited roadbed won’t
+save your crowd. The opposition can make it plain enough that
+your crowd dynamited its own roadbed through a well-founded fear
+that the tracks clear through weren’t strong enough to stand the
+passing of a train. Don’t be afraid, Reader the enemies of your
+road will know how to explain the dynamiting this side of Brewster’s.”
+
+“That’s a question for tomorrow, Black,” rejoined Tom Reade.
+“No man can ever tell, today, what tomorrow will bring forth.”
+
+Too-oo-oot! sounded a locomotive whistle again. One of the men
+in the thicket threw himself to the ground, pressing his ear to
+the earth.
+
+“There’s a train, or a locomotive, at least, coming this way from
+Lineville, boss,” reported the fellow.
+
+“A train?” gasped Black. Then his face cleared. “Oh, well, even
+if it’s a fully equipped wrecking train, it can’t get the road
+mended in time to bring the through train in before midnight,
+as the charter demands.”
+
+Now the train from Lineville came closer, and the whirr of its
+approach was audible along the steel rails. The engine’s bell
+was clanging steadily, too, after the manner of the engines of
+“specials.”
+
+’Gene Black crowded to the outer edge of the thicket, peering
+through intently. The bright headlight of an approaching locomotive
+soon penetrated this part of the forest. Then the train rolled
+swiftly by.
+
+“Humph!” muttered Black. “Only an engine, a baggage car and one
+day coach. That kind of train can’t carry much in the way of
+relief.”
+
+As the train passed out of sight the engine sent back a screeching
+whistle.
+
+“The engineer is laughing at you, Black,” jeered Tom.
+
+“Let him,” sneered the other. “I have the good fortune to know
+where the laugh belongs.”
+
+Toot! toot! too-oot-oot! Something else was coming down the track
+from Lineville. Then it passed the beholders in the thicket---a full
+train of engine and seven cars.
+
+“Good old Harry Hazelton!” glowed Tom Reade. “I’ll wager that
+was Harry’s thought---a pilot ahead, and then the real train!”
+
+“Small good it will do,” laughed ’Gene Black disagreeably.
+
+Then, a new thought striking him, he added:
+
+“Bill Hoskins, you and some of the men get the dynamite under
+the track opposite here. You know how to do it! Hustle!”
+
+“You bet I know how,” growled Bill eagerly, as he stepped forward,
+picking out the fellows he wanted as his helpers. “I’ll have
+the blast against the roadbed here ready in five minutes, Black.”
+
+“Now, you’ll have three trains stalled along the line tonight,
+Cub Reade,” laughed Black sneeringly. “Getting any train as
+far as this won’t count for a copper’s worth! Your road has
+to get a through train all the way into Lineville before midnight.
+We’ll blow out the roadbed here, and then where are you?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+
+At these words even the brief hope that had been in Tom Reade’s
+mind, died out.
+
+With the roadbed gone at this point also, he did not see the slightest
+chance for the S.B. & L. to save its charter or its property rights.
+
+“Here’s the racketty stuff,” went on Hoskins, indicating the boxes.
+“That small box has the fuses. Get the stuff along, and I’ll lay
+the magneto wire.”
+
+“Not quite so hastily!” sternly broke in a new voice.
+
+Tom Reade fairly yelled for joy, for the new speaker, as he knew
+at the first sound, was Dave Fulsbee.
+
+The amazed and dismayed scoundrels huddled closer together for a
+moment in the middle of the thicket.
+
+“Spread, men! Don’t let one of ’em get out alive!” sounded Dave
+Fulsbee’s voice.
+
+The scurrying steps of Fulsbee’s men could be heard apparently
+surrounding the thicket.
+
+With an exclamation of rage, Black made a dash for freedom.
+
+“Stand where you are, Black, if you want to live!” warned Dave.
+“No use to make a kick you rascals! We’ve got you covered, and
+the first man who makes a move will eat his breakfast in another
+world. Now, listen to me. One at a time you fellows step up
+to me, drop your weapons on the ground, where I can see you do
+it, and then come out here, one at a time. No tricks---for, remember,
+you are covered by my men out here. We don’t want to shoot the
+whole lot of you up unless we have to, but we won’t stand for
+any fooling. Reade, you come through first. Any man who offers
+to hinder Mr. Reade will be sorry he took the trouble---that’s
+all!”
+
+His heart bounding with joy, Tom stepped through the thicket,
+going straight toward the sound of Fulsbee’s voice.
+
+“I’ve got a knife in my left hand,” announced Fulsbee, as Tom
+neared him in the dark. “Turn around so that I can cut the cords
+at your wrists.”
+
+In a moment this was done.
+
+“You might stay here and help me,” whispered Dave. Tom nodded.
+
+“Now, Black, you can be the first,” called Dave in a brisk,
+business-like tone. “Step up here and drop your weapons on the ground.”
+
+Wincing under a bitter sense of defeat, ’Gene Black stepped forward.
+He was not really a coward, but he valued his life, little as it was
+actually worth. So he dropped a revolver to the ground.
+
+“What I have to say to you, Black, applies to the others,” Dave
+continued from outside the thicket. “If any man among you doesn’t drop
+all his weapons, we’ll make it lively for him when we get him out here.”
+
+A look of malignant hate crossed his face, then ’Gene Black dropped
+also a knife to the ground.
+
+“Come on out, Black,” directed Dave Fulsbee. “Mr. Reade, will
+you oblige me by running your hands over the fellow’s clothing
+to see if he, has any more weapons.”
+
+Tom promptly complied. A hasty search revealed no other weapons.
+
+“Now, step right along over there, Black, where you’ll find two
+of my men,” nodded Dave Fulsbee.
+
+Again Black obeyed. He saw, dimly, two men some yards further
+away in the darkness and joined them.
+
+Click-click! Then the scoundrel cried out in the bitterness of
+his rage, for the two railway detectives had handcuffed him.
+
+“You, with the black hair, next,” summoned Fulsbee, his vision
+aided by the lantern in the centre of the thicket. “You come
+here, but first stop and drop your weapons on the pile---all the
+trouble-makers you happen to have.”
+
+Thus they came, one at a time, the operator being the last of
+all. The crowd of prisoners under guard of the two railway detectives
+grew steadily, and each was handcuffed as he reached the detectives
+after having been searched by Tom Reade.
+
+“Good job,” nodded Dave coolly, as he am approached the captives.
+“Now, we have you all under lock and key. My, but you’re a
+pretty-looking outfit!”
+
+“Come on, men. March ’em up the track. Then we’ll come back,
+or send someone else after the dynamite and other stuff. That’ll
+be handy as evidence.”
+
+Guarded by Fulsbee and his two detectives, the prisoners marched
+along a few rods.
+
+“Mr. Reade,” called Dave, pointing, “you’ll find your horse tied
+to that tree yonder. I reckon you’ll be glad to get in saddle
+again.”
+
+Indeed, Tom was glad. He ran over, untying the animal, which
+uttered a whinny of recognition. In saddle, Tom joined the marching
+party.
+
+“You don’t seem to think us a very hard crowd to guard,” remarked
+’Gene Black curiously. “Why don’t you call off the men you posted
+around the thickets”
+
+“I didn’t post any,” Fulsbee answered simply. “I sent these two
+men of mine running around the thicket. Then they had to come
+together and attend to handcuffing you fellows.”
+
+“And were you the only man who had the drop on us?” gasped ’Gene
+Black.
+
+“I was,” Dave Fulsbee responded. “If you fellows hadn’t had such
+bad nerves, you could have escaped. But it’s an old story. When
+men go bad their nerves go bad with them.”
+
+As for Black’s followers, now that they knew the nature of the
+trick that had fooled them, several of them hung back.
+
+“You fellows needn’t think you can balk now,” observed Fulsbee
+grimly. “You’re all of you handcuffed, and there are enough of
+us to handle you. I promise you that, if anyone of you tries
+to run away, I won’t run after him until I’ve first tried dropping
+him with a shot.”
+
+So the party proceeded, and in time reached Lineville. There
+was great excitement in that little junction town when the citizens
+first heard of the dastardly work that the prisoners had attempted.
+
+Dave marched his captives into the waiting room of the station.
+All outsiders were ushered forth politely. Mr. Newnham was hurriedly
+summoned, and to him Tom Reade disclosed what he had learned of
+the work of enemies along the line. Naturally the president of
+the S.B. & L. was greatly excited.
+
+“We knew something was wrong, from the nature of the telegraph
+messages that came in,” cried Mr. Newnham. “It was your friend,
+Hazelton, who first suggested the idea of sending a full train
+down the line, with a short pilot train ahead.”
+
+“Good, great old Harry!” murmured Tom admiringly.
+
+Both Fulsbee and the president of the road tried to question ’Gene
+Black. That treacherous fellow, however, steadfastly refused
+to talk. Two or three of his gang were willing enough to talk,
+but they knew little, as Black had carried all his plans and schemes
+in his own head.
+
+“No matter!” muttered Dave Fulsbee. “My two men and I were close
+to that thicket for some time before we broke in on the affair.
+We heard enough to supply all the evidence that the courts will
+want against these worthies.”
+
+As the futile questioning was drawing to a close, ’Gene Black
+suddenly roused himself to say sneeringly:
+
+“Gentlemen, look at your station clock. It’s fifteen minutes
+before midnight. A quarter of an hour left! Where’s your through
+train? If it reaches here fifteen minutes from now it will be
+too late.”
+
+“Send a message down the line quickly,” gasped Mr. Newnham, turning
+pale. Then he wheeled savagely upon the prisoner, exclaiming:
+“I forgot, Black. You rascals cut the wires. We could have
+mended them at the nearer point, but the wires were cut, too,
+at the scene of the blow-out. Oh, but you have been a thorn in
+our sides!”
+
+From the crowd that still lingered outside came a cheer. Tom
+Reade sprang to the nearest door, throwing it open.
+
+“Listen!” he shouted.
+
+The sound that had started the crowd to cheering was repeated
+again.
+
+_Too-oo-oo-oot_!
+
+“It’s the train!” cried Reade joyously. “It can’t be more than
+two or three miles below here, either. It will get through on
+time!”
+
+With nine minutes to spare, the train rolled into the station
+at Lineville. It was not the same train that had left Stormburg,
+for that train had been halted, safely, just before reaching the
+scene of the disastrous blow-out. At that point the passengers
+had alighted and had been conducted on foot to the other side
+of the gap caused by the explosion. Here Hazelton’s Lineville
+special stood ready to convey them into Lineville. So the road
+had been legally opened, since the passengers from Stormburg---among
+whom was the lieutenant governor of the state had been brought
+all the way through over the line. Within the meaning of the
+law a through train had been operated over the new line, and within
+charter time.
+
+The S.B. & L. had won! It had saved its charter. On the morrow,
+in Wall Street, the value of the road’s stock jumped by some millions
+of dollars.
+
+Let us not forget the pilot train. That returned to Lineville
+in the rear of the passenger train. Though the pilot train had
+a conductor, Harry Hazelton was in real charge.
+
+“Look whom we have here, Tom!” called Harry from the open side
+door of the baggage car, as Reade raced up to greet his successful
+chum.
+
+A man, bandaged, injured and groaning, lay on the floor of the
+baggage car.
+
+“Why, it’s Naughty Peter, himself!” cried Tom. “Peter, I’m sorry
+to find you in this shape. I am afraid you have been misbehaving.”
+
+“We found him not far from the track, near the blow-out,” Hazelton
+explained. “Whether he attended to that bit of bad work all alone,
+or whether his companions believed him dead and fled for their
+own safety, I can’t learn. Bad Pete won’t say a word. He was
+unconscious when we first discovered him. Now he knows what’s
+going on around him, but he’s too badly hurt to do more than hold
+his tongue.”
+
+It was only when Bad Pete recovered his health---in jail---and
+found himself facing a long term in prison, that he was ready
+to open his mouth. He could tell nothing, however, beyond confessing
+that he and three other men, including an operator, had attended
+to the blow-out. Pete had no knowledge of the real parties behind
+the plot. He knew only that he had acted under ’Gene Blanks orders.
+So Bad Pete was shown no mercy, but sent behind the bars for
+a term of twenty-five years. Owing to Black’s stubborn silence
+the outrages were never traced back to any official of the W.C.
+& A.
+
+’Gene Black was sentenced to prison for thirty years. The other
+rascals, who had worked under his direction, all received long
+terms.
+
+The student engineers, wholly happy and well paid, returned to
+their college.
+
+The S.B. & L. is still under the same management, and is one of
+the prosperous independent railroads of the United States. Dave
+Fulsbee continues as the head of its detective system.
+
+Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton had made good in their first professional
+undertaking. They were paid in proportion to their services, and
+given the opportunity to retain their positions at the head of the
+railway’s engineering corps.
+
+For some time they kept their positions, filling them always with
+honor. Yet, in the end, the desire to do other great things in
+their chosen profession led them into other fields of venture.
+Their greatest adventures, their severest trials and deepest
+problems, as well as their gravest perils were still ahead of them
+in their path of duty.
+
+The Young Engineers were bound to go on and up, yet their way
+was sure to be a stormy one.
+
+We shall meet these fine young Americans again in the next volume
+of this series, which is published under the title, “The Young
+Engineers in Arizona; Or, Laying Tracks on the Man-killer Quicksand.”
+It is a rousing narrative of real people and real happenings.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN COLORADO;
+OR, AT RAILROAD BUILDING IN EARNEST ***
+
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Young Engineers in Colorado; Or, At
+Railroad Building in Earnest, by H. Irving Hancock</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Young Engineers in Colorado; Or, At
+Railroad Building in Earnest</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: H. Irving Hancock</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 25, 2004 [eBook #12734]<br>
+[Most recently updated: October 27, 2023]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Jim Ludwig</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN
+COLORADO; OR, AT RAILROAD BUILDING IN EARNEST ***</div>
+
+
+
+<h1>The Young Engineers in Colorado<br><span class="small">or, At Railwood Building in Earnest</span></h1>
+
+
+<p class="center p2 big">By H. Irving Hancock</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<table class="autotable">
+<tr><th>CHAPTERS</th></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I. The Cub Engineers Reach Camp</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II. Bad Pete Becomes Worse</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III. The Day of Real Work Dawns</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV. “Trying Out” the Gridley Boys</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V. Tom Doesn’t Mind “Artillery”</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI. The Bite from the Bush</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII. What a Squaw Knew</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII. ’Gene Black, Trouble-Maker</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">IX. “Doctored” Field Notes?</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X. Things Begin to go Down Hill</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI. The Chief Totters from Command</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII. From Cub to Acting Chief</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII. Black Turns Other Colors</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV. Bad Pete Mixes in Some</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV. Black’s Plot Opens With a Bang</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI. Shut Off from the World</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII. The Real Attack Begins</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII. When the Camp Grew Warm</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX. Sheriff Grease Drops Dave</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX. Mr. Newnham Drops a Bomb</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI. The Trap at the Finish</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII. “Can Your Road Save Its Charter Now?”</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII. Black’s Trump Card</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV. Conclusion</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br><span class="small">THE CUB ENGINEERS REACH CAMP</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Look, Tom! There is a real westerner!” Harry Hazelton’s eyes
+sparkled, his whole manner was one of intense interest.</p>
+
+<p>“Eh?” queried Tom Reade, turning around from his distant view
+of a sharp, towering peak of the Rockies.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s the real thing in the way of a westerner,” Harry Hazelton
+insisted in a voice in which there was some awe.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe he is,” retorted Tom skeptically.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re going to say, I suppose, that the man is just some freak
+escaped from the pages of a dime novel?” demanded Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“No; he looks more like a hostler on a leave of absence from a
+stranded Wild West show,” Tom replied slowly.</p>
+
+<p>There was plenty of time for them to inspect the stranger in question.
+Tom and Harry were seated on a mountain springboard wagon drawn
+by a pair of thin horses. Their driver, a boy of about eighteen,
+sat on a tiny make-believe seat almost over the traces. This
+youthful driver had been minding his own business so assiduously
+during the past three hours that Harry had voted him a sullen
+fellow. This however, the driver was not.</p>
+
+<p>“Where did that party ahead come from, driver?” murmured Tom,
+leaning forward. “Boston or Binghamton?”</p>
+
+<p>“You mean the party ahead at the bend of the trail?” asked the
+driver.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; he’s the only stranger in sight.”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess he’s a westerner, all right,” answered the driver, after
+a moment or two spent in thought.</p>
+
+<p>“There! You see?” crowed Harry Hazelton triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>“If that fellow’s a westerner, driver,” Tom persisted, “have you
+any idea how many days he has been west?”</p>
+
+<p>“He doesn’t belong to this state,” the youthful driver answered.
+“I think he comes from Montana. His name is Bad Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pete?” mused Tom Reade aloud. “That’s short for Peter, I suppose;
+not a very interesting or romantic name. What’s the hind-leg
+of his name?”</p>
+
+<p>“Meaning his surnames” drawled the driver.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; to be sure.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know that he has any surname, friend,” the Colorado boy
+rejoined.</p>
+
+<p>“Why do they call him ‘Bad’?” asked Harry, with a thrill of pleasurable
+expectation.</p>
+
+<p>As the driver was slow in finding an answer, Tom Reade, after
+another look at the picturesque stranger, replied quizzically:</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon they call him bad because he’s counterfeit.”</p>
+
+<p>“There you go again,” remonstrated Harry Hazelton. “You’d better
+be careful, or Bad Pete will hear you.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope he doesn’t,” smiled Tom. “I don’t want to change Bad
+Pete into Worse Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>There was little danger, however, that the picturesque-looking
+stranger would hear them. The axles and springs of the springboard
+wagon were making noise enough to keep their voices from reaching
+the ears of any human being more than a dozen feet away.</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete was still about two hundred and fifty feet ahead, nor
+did he, as yet, give any sign whatever of having noted the vehicle.
+Instead, he was leaning against a boulder at the turn in the
+road. In his left hand he held a hand-rolled cigarette from which
+he took an occasional reflective puff as he looked straight ahead
+of him as though he were enjoying the scenery. The road—-trail—-ran
+close along the edge of a sloping precipice. Fully nine hundred
+feet below ran a thin line of silver, or so it appeared. In reality
+it was what was left of the Snake River now, in July, nearly dried
+out.</p>
+
+<p>Over beyond the gulch, for a mile or more, extended a rather flat,
+rock-strewn valley. Beyond that were the mountains, two peaks
+of which, even at this season, were white-capped with snow. On
+the trail, however, the full heat of summer prevailed.</p>
+
+<p>“This grand, massive scenery makes a human being feel small, doesn’t
+it?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>Harry, however, had his eyes and all his thoughts turned toward
+the man whom they were nearing.</p>
+
+<p>“This—-er—-Bad Pete isn’t an—-er—-that is, a road agent, is
+he?” he asked apprehensively.</p>
+
+<p>“He may be, for all I know,” the driver answered. “At present
+he mostly hangs out around the S.B. &amp; L. outfit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, that’s our outfits—-the one we’re going to join, I mean,”
+cried Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope Pete isn’t the cook, then,” remarked Tom fastidiously.
+“He doesn’t look as though he takes a very kindly interest in
+soap.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sh-h-h!” begged Harry. “I’ll tell you, he’ll hear you.”</p>
+
+<p>“See here,” Tom went on, this time addressing the driver, “you’ve
+told us that you don’t know just where to find the S.B. &amp; L. field
+camp. If Mr. Peter Bad hangs out with the camp then he ought
+to be able to direct us.”</p>
+
+<p>“You can ask him, of course,” nodded the Colorado boy.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after the horses covered the distance needed to bring them
+close to the bend. Now the driver hauled in his team, and, blocking
+the forward wheels with a fragment of rock, began to give his
+attention to the harness.</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete had consented to glance their way at last. He turned
+his head indolently, emitting a mouthful of smoke. As if by instinct
+his right hand dropped to the butt of a revolver swinging in a
+holster over his right hip.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope he isn’t bad tempered today!” shivered Harry under his
+breath.</p>
+
+<p>“I beg your pardon, sir,” galled Tom, “but can you tell us——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Who are ye looking at?” demanded Bad Pete, scowling.</p>
+
+<p>“At a polished man of the world, I’m sure,” replied Reade smilingly.
+“As I was saying, can you tell us just where we can find the
+S.B. &amp; L.’s field camp of engineers?”</p>
+
+<p>“What d’ye want of the camp?” growled Pete, after taking another
+whiff from his cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, our reasons for wanting to find the camp are purely personal,”
+Tom continued.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, tenderfoot, don’t get fresh with me,” warned Pete sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t an idea of that sort in the world, sir,” Tom assured
+him. “Do you happen to know the hiding-place of the camp?”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want of the camp?” insisted Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, sir, since you’re so determined to protect the camp from
+questionable strangers,” Tom continued, “I don’t know that it
+will do any harm to inform you that we are two greenhorns—-tenderfeet,
+I believe, is your more elegant word—-who have been engaged to
+join the engineers’ crowd and break in at the business.”</p>
+
+<p>“Cub engineers, eh, tenderfoot?”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the full size of our pretensions, sir,” Tom admitted.</p>
+
+<p>“Rich men’s sons, coming out to learn the ways of the Rookies?”
+questioned Bad Pete, showing his first sign of interest in them.</p>
+
+<p>“Not quite as bad as that,” Tom Reade urged. “We’re wholly respectable,
+sir. We have even had to work hard in order to raise money for
+our railway fare out to Colorado.”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete’s look of interest in them faded.</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” he remarked. “Then you’re no good either why.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s true, I’m afraid,” sighed Tom. “However, can you tell
+us the way to the camp?”</p>
+
+<p>From one pocket Bad Pete produced a cigarette paper and from another
+tobacco. Slowly he rolled and lighted a cigarette, in the meantime
+seeming hardly aware of the existence of the tenderfeet. At last,
+however, he turned to the Colorado boy and observed:</p>
+
+<p>“Pardner, I reckon you’d better drive on with these tenderfeet
+before I drop them over the cliff. They spoil the view. Ye know
+where Bandy’s Gulch is?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sure,” nodded the Colorado boy.</p>
+
+<p>“Ye’ll find the railroad outfit jest about a mile west o’ there,
+camped close to the main trail.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m sure obliged to you,” nodded the Colorado boy, stepping up
+to his seat and gathering in the reins.</p>
+
+<p>“And so are we, sir,” added Tom politely.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold your blizzard in until I ask ye to talk,” retorted Bad Pete
+haughtily. “Drive on with your cheap baggage, pardner.”</p>
+
+<p>“Cheap baggage, are we?” mused Tom, when the wagon had left Bad
+Pete some two hundred feet to the rear. “My, but I feel properly
+humiliated!”</p>
+
+<p>“How many men has Bad Pete killed?” inquired Harry in an awed
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t know as he ever killed any,” replied the Colorado boy,
+“but I’m not looking for trouble with any man that always carries
+a revolver at his belt and goes around looking for someone to
+give him an excuse to shoot. The pistol might go off, even by
+accident.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are there many like Mr. Peter Bad in these hills nowadays?” Tom
+inquired.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find the foothills back near Denver or Pueblo,” replied
+the Colorado youth coldly “You’re up in the mountains now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, are there many like Peter Bad in these mountains?” Tom
+amended.</p>
+
+<p>“Not many,” admitted their driver. “The old breed is passing.
+You see, in these days, we have the railroad, public schools,
+newspapers, the telegraph, electric light, courts and the other
+things that go with civilization.”</p>
+
+<p>“The old days of romance are going by,” sighed Harry Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you call murder romantic?” Reade demanded. “Harry, you came
+west expecting to find the Colorado of the dime novels. Now we’ve
+traveled hundreds of miles across this state, and Mr. Bad wore
+the first revolver that we’ve seen since we crossed the state
+line. My private opinion is that Peter would be afraid to handle
+his pistol recklessly for fear it would go off.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wouldn’t bank on that,” advised the young driver, shaking his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>“But you don’t carry a revolver,” retorted Tom Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Pop would wallop me, if I did,” grinned the Colorado boy. “But
+then, I don’t need firearms. I know enough to carry a civil tongue,
+and to be quiet when I ought to.”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose people who don’t possess those virtues are the only
+people that have excuse for carrying a pistol around with their
+keys, loose change and toothbrushes,” affirmed Reade. “Harry,
+the longer you stay west the more people you’ll find who’ll tell
+you that toting a pistol is a silly, trouble-breeding habit.”</p>
+
+<p>They drove along for another hour before a clattering sounded
+behind them.</p>
+
+<p>“I believe it’s Bad Pete coming,” declared Harry, as he made out,
+a quarter of a mile behind them, the form of a man mounted on
+a small, wiry mustang.</p>
+
+<p>“Yep; it is,” nodded the Colorado boy, after a look back.</p>
+
+<p>The trail being wider here Bad Pete whirled by them with a swift
+drumming of his pony’s hoofs. In a few moments more he was out
+of sight.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, you may have your doubts about that fellow,” Hazelton remarked,
+“but there’s one thing he can do—-ride!”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! Anyone can ride that knows enough to get into a saddle
+and stick there,” observed the Colorado boy dryly.</p>
+
+<p>Readers of the “_Grammar School Boys Series_” and of the “_High School
+Boys Series_”, have already recognized in Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton
+two famous schoolboy athletes.</p>
+
+<p>Back in old Gridley there had once been a schoolboy crowd of six,
+known as Dick &amp; Co. Under the leadership of Dick Prescott, these
+boys had made their start in athletics in the Central Grammar
+School, winning no small amount of fame as junior schoolboy athletes.</p>
+
+<p>Then in their High School days Dick &amp; Co. had gradually made
+themselves crack athletes. Baseball and football were their especial
+sports, and in these they had reached a degree of skill that had
+made many a college trainer anxious to obtain them.</p>
+
+<p>None of the six, however, had gone to college. Dick Prescott
+and Greg Holmes had secured appointments as cadets at the United
+States Military Academy, at West Point. Their adventures are
+told in the “_West Point Series_.” Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell,
+feeling the call to the Navy, had entered the United States Naval
+Academy at Annapolis. Their further doings are all described
+in the “_Annapolis Series_.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, however, had found that their aspirations
+pointed to the great constructive work that is done by the big-minded,
+resourceful American civil engineer of today. Bridge building,
+railroad building, the tunneling of mines—-in a word, the building
+of any of the great works of industry possessed a huge fascination
+for them.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was good-natured and practical, Harry at times full of mischief
+and at others dreamy, but both longed with all their souls to
+place themselves some day in the front ranks among civil engineers.</p>
+
+<p>At high school they had given especial study to mathematics.
+At home they had studied engineering, through correspondence courses
+and otherwise. During more than the last year of their home life
+our two boys had worked much in the offices of a local civil engineer,
+and had spent part of their school vacations afield with him.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, after graduating from school both boys had gone to New
+York in order to look the world over. By dint of sheer push,
+three-quarters of which Tom had supplied, the boys had secured
+their first chance in the New York offices of the S.B. &amp; L. Not
+much of a chance, to be sure, but it meant forty dollars a month
+and board in the field, with the added promise that, if they turned
+out to be “no good,” they would be promptly “bounced.”</p>
+
+<p>“If ‘bounced’ we are,” Tom remarked dryly, “we’ll have to walk
+home, for our money will just barely take us to Colorado.”</p>
+
+<p>So here they were, having come by rail to a town some distance
+west of Pueblo. From the last railway station they had been obliged
+to make thirty miles or more by wagon to the mountain field camp
+of the S.B. &amp; L.</p>
+
+<p>Since daybreak they had been on the way, eating breakfast and
+lunch from the paper parcels that they had brought with them.</p>
+
+<p>“How much farther is the camp, now that you know the way.” Reade
+inquired an hour after Bad Pete had vanished on horseback.</p>
+
+<p>“There it is, right down there,” answered the Colorado youth,
+pointing with his whip as the raw-boned team hauled the wagon
+to the top of a rise in the trail.</p>
+
+<p>Of the trail to the left, surrounded by natural walls of rock,
+was an irregularly shaped field about three or four acres in extent.
+Here and there wisps of grass grew, but the ground, for the most
+part, was covered by splinters of rock or of sand ground from
+the same.</p>
+
+<p>At the farther end of the camp stood a small wooden building,
+with three tents near try. At a greater distance were several
+other tents. Three wagons stood at one side of the camp, though
+horses or mules for the same were not visible. Outside, near
+the door of one tent, stood a transit partially concealed by the
+enveloping rubber cover. Near another tent stood a plane table,
+used in field platting (drawing). Signs of life about the camp
+there were none, save for the presence of the newcomers.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder if there’s anyone at home keeping house,” mused Tom
+Reade, as he jumped down from the wagon.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s only one wooden house in this town. That must be where
+the boss lives,” declared Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; that’s where the boss lives,” replied the Colorado youth,
+with a wry smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s go over and see whether he has time to talk to us,” suggested
+Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Just one minute, gentlemen,” interposed the driver. “Where do
+you want your kit boxes placed? Are you going to pay me now?”</p>
+
+<p>“Drop the kit boxes on the ground anywhere,” Tom answered. “We’re
+strong enough to carry ’em when we find where they belong.”</p>
+
+<p>“And—-yes: we are going to pay you now. Eighteen dollars, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied the young driver, with the brevity of the mountaineer.</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry went into their pockets, each producing nine dollars
+as his share of the fare. This was handed over to the Colorado
+youth.</p>
+
+<p>“’Bliged to you, gentlemen,” nodded the Colorado boy pocketing
+the money. “Anything more to say to me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing remains to be said, except to thank you, and to wish
+you good luck on your way back,” said Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“I wish you luck here, too, gentlemen. Good day.”</p>
+
+<p>With that, the driver mounted his seat, turned the horses about
+and was off without once looking back.</p>
+
+<p>“Now let’s go over to the house and see the boss,” murmured Tom.</p>
+
+<p>Together the chums skirted the camp, going up to the wooden building.
+As the door was open, Tom, with a sense of good manners, approached
+from the side that he might not appear to be peeping in on the
+occupants of the building. Gaining the side of the doorway, with
+Harry just behind him, Reade knocked softly.</p>
+
+<p>“Quit yer kidding, whoever it is, and come in,” called a rough
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>Tom thereupon stepped inside. What he saw filled him with surprise.
+Around the room were three or four tables. There were many utensils
+hanging on the walls. There were two stoves, with a man bending
+over one of them and stirring something in a pot.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Tom. “I thought I’d find Mr. Timothy
+Thurston, the chief engineer, here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nope,” replied a stout, red-faced man of forty, in flannel shirt
+and khaki trousers. “Mr. Thurston never eats between meals, and
+when he does eat he’s served in his own mess tent. Whatcher want
+here, pardner?”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re under orders to report to him,” Tom answered politely.</p>
+
+<p>“New men in the chain gang?” asked the cook, swinging around to
+look at the newcomers.</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe,” Reade assented. “That will depend on the opinion that
+Mr. Thurston forms of us after he knows us a little while. I
+believe the man in New York said we were to be assistant engineers.”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s only one assistant engineer here,” announced the cook.
+“The other engineers are Just plain surveyors or levelers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we won’t quarrel about titles,” Tom smilingly assured the
+cook. “Will you please tell us where Mr. Thurston is?”</p>
+
+<p>“He’s in his tent over yonder,” said the cook, pointing through
+the open doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“Shall we step over there and announce ourselves?” Tom inquired.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, ye could do it,” rejoined the red-faced cook, with a grin.
+“If Tim Thurston happens to be very busy he might use plain talk
+and tell you to git out of camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then do you mind telling us just how we should approach the chief
+engineer?”</p>
+
+<p>“Whatter yer names?”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade and Hazelton.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bob, trot over and tell Thurston there’s two fellows here, named
+Reade and Hazelnut. Ask him what he wants done with ’em.”</p>
+
+<p>The cook’s helper, who, so far, had not favored the new arrivals
+with a glance, now turned and looked them over. Then, with a
+nod, the helper stepped across the ground to the largest tent
+in camp. In a few moments he came back.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston says to stay around and he’ll call you jest as soon
+as he’s through with what he’s doing,” announced Bob, who, dark,
+thin and anemic, was a decrepit-looking man of fifty years or
+thereabouts.</p>
+
+<p>“Ye can stand about in the open,” added the cook, pointing with
+his ladle. “There’s better air out there.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you,” answered Tom briskly, but politely. Once outside,
+and strolling slowly along, Reade confided to his chum:</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, you can see what big fellows we two youngsters are going
+to be in a Rocky Mountain railroad camp. We haven’t a blessed
+thing to do but play marbles until the chief can see us.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can spare the time, if the chief can,” laughed Harry. “Hello—-look
+who’s here!”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete, now on foot, had turned into the camp from the farther
+side. Espying the boys he swaggered over toward them.</p>
+
+<p>“How do you do, sir?” nodded Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t you two tenderfeet mind your own business?” snarled Pete,
+halting and scowling angrily at them.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, I come to think of it,” admitted Tom, “it _was_ meddlesome
+on my part to ask after your health. I beg your pardon.”</p>
+
+<p>“Say, are you two tenderfeet trying to git fresh with me?” demanded
+Bad Pete, drawing himself up to his full height and gazing at
+them out of flashing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Almost unconsciously Tom Reade drew himself up, showing hints
+of his athletic figure through the folds of his clothing.</p>
+
+<p>“No, Peter,” he said quietly. “In the first place, my friend
+hasn’t even opened his mouth. As for myself, when I _do_ try
+to get fresh with you, you won’t have to do any guessing. You’ll
+be sure of it.”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete took a step forward, dropping his right hand, as though
+unconsciously, to the butt of the revolver in the holster. He
+fixed his burning gaze savagely on the boy’s face as he muttered,
+in a low, ugly voice:</p>
+
+<p>“Tenderfoot, when I’m around after this you shut your mouth and
+keep it shut! You needn’t take the trouble to call me Peter again,
+either. My name is Bad Pete, and I am bad. I’m poison! Understand?
+Poison!”</p>
+
+<p>“Poison?” repeated Tom dryly, coolly. “No; I don’t believe I’d
+call you that. I think I’d call you a bluff—-and let it go at
+that.”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete scowled angrily. Again his hand slid to the butt of
+his revolver, then with a muttered imprecation he turned and stalked
+away, calling back threateningly over his shoulder:</p>
+
+<p>“Remember, tenderfoot. Keep out of my way.”</p>
+
+<p>Behind the boys, halted a man who had just stepped into the camp
+over the natural stone wall. This man was a sun-browned, smooth-faced,
+pleasant-featured man of perhaps thirty-two or thirty-three years.
+Dressed in khaki trousers, with blue flannel shirt, sombrero
+and well-worn puttee leggings, he might have been mistaken for
+a soldier. Though his eyes were pleasant to look at, there was
+an expression of great shrewdness in them. The lines around his
+mouth bespoke the man’s firmness. He was about five-feet-eight
+in height, slim and had the general bearing of a strong man accustomed
+to hard work.</p>
+
+<p>“Boys,” he began in a low voice, whereat both Tom and Harry faced
+swiftly about, “you shouldn’t rile Bad Pete that way. He’s an
+ugly character, who carries all he knows of law in his holsters,
+and we’re a long way from the sheriff’s officers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is he really bad?” asked Tom innocently.</p>
+
+<p>“Really bad?” laughed the man in khaki. “You’ll find out if you
+try to cross him. Are you visiting the camp?”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade! Hazelton!” called a voice brusquely from the big tent.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s Mr. Thurston calling us, I guess,” said Tom quickly.
+“We’ll have to excuse ourselves and go and report to him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, that was Thurston,” nodded the slim man. “And I’m Blaisdell,
+the assistant engineer. I’ll go along with you.”</p>
+
+<p>Throwing aside the canvas flap, Mr. Blaisdell led the boys inside
+the big tent. At one end a portion of the tent was curtained
+off, and this was presumably the chief engineer’s bedroom. Near
+the centre of the tent was a flat table about six by ten feet.
+Just at present it held many drawings, all arranged in orderly
+piles. Not far from the big table was a smaller one on which
+a typewriting machine rested.</p>
+
+<p>The man who sat at the large table, and who wheeled about in a
+revolving chair as Tom and Harry entered, was perhaps forty-five
+years of age. His head was covered with a mass of bushy black
+hair. His face was as swarthy, in its clean-shaven condition,
+as though the owner had spent all of his life under a hot sun.
+His clothing like that of all the rest of the engineers in camp
+was of khaki, his shirt of blue flannel, with a long, flowing
+black tie.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston,” announced the assistant engineer, “I have just
+encountered these young gentlemen, who state that they are under
+orders from the New York offices to report to you for employment.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston looked both boys over in silence for a few seconds.
+His keen eyes appeared to take in everything that could possibly
+concern them. Then he rose, extending his hand, first to Reade,
+next to Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“From what technical school do you come?” inquired the engineer
+as he resumed his chair.</p>
+
+<p>“From none, sir,” Tom answered promptly “We didn’t have money
+enough for that sort of training.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston raised his eyebrows in astonished inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>“Then why,” he asked, “did you come here? What made you think
+that you could break in as engineers?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br><span class="small">BAD PETE BECOMES WORSE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Timothy Thurston’s gaze was curious, and his voice a trifle cold.
+Yet he did not by any means treat the boys with contempt. He
+appeared simply to wonder why these young men had traveled so
+far to take up his time.</p>
+
+<p>“We couldn’t afford to take a college course in engineering, sir,”
+Tom Reade continued, reddening slightly. “We have learned all
+that we possibly could in other ways, however.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you expect me, young men, to detail an experienced engineer
+to move about with you as instructor until you learn enough to
+be of use to us?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed, we don’t, sir,” Tom replied, and perhaps his voice
+was sharper than usual, though it rang with earnestness. “We
+believe, sir, that we are very fair engineers. We are willing
+to be tried out, sir, and to be rated exactly where you find that
+we belong. If necessary we’ll start in as helpers to the chainmen,
+and we have pride enough to walk back over the trail at any moment
+when you decide that we’re no good. We have traveled all the
+way from the east, and I trust, sir, that you’ll give us a fair
+chance to show if we know anything.”</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t take long to find that out,” replied Mr. Thurston gravely.
+“Of course you both understand that we are doing real engineering
+work and haven’t any time to instruct amateurs or be patient with
+them.”</p>
+
+<p>“We don’t want instruction, Mr. Thurston,” Hazelton broke in.
+“We want work, and when we get it we’ll do it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope your work will be as good as your assurance,” replied
+the chief engineer, with a slight twinkle in his eyes. “What
+can you do?”</p>
+
+<p>“We know how to do ordinary surveying, sir,” Tom replied quickly.
+“We can run our courses and supervise the chaining. We know
+how to bring in field notes that are of some use. We can do our
+work well within the limits of error allowed by the United States
+Government. We also consider ourselves competent at leveling.
+Give us the profile plan and the notes on an excavation, and we
+can superintend the laborers who have to make an excavation.
+We have a fair knowledge of ordinary road building. We have the
+strength of usual materials at our finger’s ends, and for beginners
+I think we may claim that we are very well up in mathematics.
+We have had some all-around experience. Here is a letter, sir,
+from Price &amp; Conley, of Gridley, in whose offices we have done
+quite a bit of work.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston took the letter courteously, though he did not
+immediately glance at it.</p>
+
+<p>“Country surveyors, these gentlemen, I suppose?” he asked, looking
+into Tom’s eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” nodded Reade, “though Mr. Price is also the engineer for
+our home county. Both Mr. Price and Mr. Conley paid us the
+compliment of saying that we were well fitted to work in a railway
+engineering camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we’ll try you out, until you either make good or convince
+us that you can’t,” agreed the chief engineer, without any show
+of enthusiasm. “You may show them where they are to live, Mr.
+Blaisdell, and where they are to mess. In the morning you can
+put these young men at some job or other.”</p>
+
+<p>The words sounded like a dismissal, but Blaisdell lingered a moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston,” he smiled, “our young men ran, first thing, into
+Bad Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes?” inquired the chief. “Did Pete show these young men his
+fighting front?”</p>
+
+<p>Blaisdell repeated the dialogue that had taken place between Tom
+and Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>The chief listened to his assistant in silence. Tom flushed slightly
+under the penetrating glance Mr. Thurston cast upon him during
+the recital.</p>
+
+<p>When the assistant had finished, the chief merely remarked: “Blaisdell,
+I wish you could get rid of that fellow, Bad Pete. I don’t like
+to have him hanging about the camp. He’s an undesirable character,
+and I’m afraid that some of our men will have trouble with him.
+Can’t you get rid of him?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll do it if you say so, Mr. Thurston,” Blaisdell answered quietly.</p>
+
+<p>“How?” inquired his chief.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll serve out firearms to five or six of the men, and the next
+time Pete shows his face we’ll cover him and march him miles away
+from camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“That wouldn’t do any good,” replied Mr. Thurston, with a shake
+of his head. “Pete would only come back, uglier than before,
+and he’d certainly shoot up some of our men.”</p>
+
+<p>“You asked me, a moment ago, Mr. Thurston, what I could do,” Tom
+broke in. “Give me a little time, and I’ll agree to rid the camp
+of Peter.”</p>
+
+<p>“How?” asked the chief abruptly. “Not with any gun-play! Pete
+would be too quick for you at anything of that sort.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t carry a pistol, and don’t wish to do so,” Tom retorted.
+“In my opinion only a coward carries a pistol.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you think Bad Pete is a coward, young man?” returned the
+chief.</p>
+
+<p>“If driven into a corner I’m pretty sure he’d turn out to be one,
+sir,” Tom went on earnestly. “A coward is a man who’s afraid.
+If a fellow isn’t afraid of anything, then why does he have to
+carry firearms to protect himself?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe that would quite apply to Pete,” Mr. Thurston
+went on. “Pete doesn’t carry a revolver because he’s afraid of
+anything. He knows that many other men are afraid of pistols,
+and so he carries his firearms about in order that he may enjoy
+himself in playing bully.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can drive him out of camp,” Tom insisted. “All I’ll wait for
+will be your permission to go ahead.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you can do it without shooting,” replied the chief, “try your
+hand at it. Be careful, however, Reade. There are plenty of
+good natural lead mines in these mountains.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes—-sir?” asked Reade, looking puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>“Much as we’d like to see Pete permanently out of this camp, remember
+that we don’t want you to give the fellow any excuse for turning
+you into a lead mine.”</p>
+
+<p>“If Peter tries anything like that with me,” retorted Tom solemnly,
+“I shall be deeply offended.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very good. Take the young men along with you, Blaisdell. I’ll
+hear your report on them tomorrow night.”</p>
+
+<p>The assistant engineer took Tom and Harry over to a seven by nine
+tent.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll bunk in here,” he explained, “and store your dunnage here.
+There are two folding cots in the tent, as you see. Don’t shake
+’em out until it’s time to turn in, and then you’ll have more
+room in your house. Now, come on over and I’ll show you the mess
+tent for the engineers.”</p>
+
+<p>This Blaisdell also showed them. There was nothing in the tent
+but a plain, long table, with folding legs, and a lot of camp
+chairs of the simplest kind.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s that tent, Mr. Blaisdell?” inquired Harry, pointing to
+the next one, as they came out of the engineers’ mess.</p>
+
+<p>“Mess tent for the chainmen and rod men laborers, etc.,” replied
+their guide. “Now, the fellows will be in soon, and supper will
+be on in half an hour. After you get your dunnage over to your
+tent amuse yourselves in any way that you care to. I’ll introduce
+you to the crowd at table.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry speedily had their scanty dunnage stored in their
+own tent. Then they sat down on campstools just outside the door.</p>
+
+<p>“Thurston didn’t seem extremely cordial, did he?” asked Hazelton
+solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, why should he be cordial?” Tom demanded. “What does he
+know about us? We’re trying to break in here and make a living,
+but how does he know that we’re not a pair of merely cheerful
+idiots?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve an idea that Mr. Thurston is always rather cool with his
+staff,” pursued Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“Do your work, old fellow, in an exceptionally fine way, and I
+guess you’ll find that he can thaw out. Mr. Thurston is probably
+just like other men who have to employ folks. When he finds that
+a man can really do the work that he’s paid to do I imagine that
+Thurston is well satisfied and not afraid to show it.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s that noise?” demanded Harry, trying to peer around the
+corner of their tent without rising.</p>
+
+<p>“The field gang coming in, I think,” answered Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s get up, then, and have a look at our future mates,” suggested
+Harry Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“No; I don’t believe it would be a good plan,” said Tom. “We might
+be thought fresh if we betrayed too much curiosity before the
+crowd shows some curiosity about us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade!” sounded Blaisdell’s voice, five minutes later. “Bring
+your friend over and inspect this choice lot of criminals.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom rose eagerly, followed by Harry. As they left the tent and
+hurried outside they beheld two rows of men, each before a long
+bench on which stood agate wash basins. The toilet preceding
+the evening meal was on.</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen,” announced Mr. Blaisdell, as the two chums drew near, “I
+present two new candidates for fame. One is named Reade, the other
+Hazelton. Take them to your hearts, but don’t, at first, teach them all
+the wickedness you know. Reade, this is Jack Rutter, the spotted hyena
+of the camp. If he ever gets in your way just push him over a cliff.”</p>
+
+<p>A pleasant-faced young man in khaki hastily dried his face and
+hands on a towel, then smilingly held out his right hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Glad to know you, Reade,” he laughed. “Hope you’ll like us and
+decide to stay.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton,” continued the announcer, “shake hands with Slim Morris,
+whether he’ll let you or not. And here’s Matt Rice. We usually
+call him ‘Mister’ Rice, for he’s extremely talented. He knows
+how to play the banjo.”</p>
+
+<p>The assistant engineer then turned away, while one young man,
+at the farther end of the long wash bench stood unpresented.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, on second thoughts,” continued Blaisdell, “I’ll introduce
+you to Joe Grant.”</p>
+
+<p>The last young man came forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Joe used to be a good fellow—-once,” added the assistant engineer.
+“In these days, however, you want to keep your dunnage boxes
+locked. Joe’s specialty is stealing fancy ties—-neckties, I
+mean.”</p>
+
+<p>Joe laughed good-humoredly as he shook hands, adding:</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll tell you all about Blaisdell himself, boys, one of these
+days, but not now. It’s too far from pay day, and old Blaze stands
+in too thickly with the chief.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you folks don’t come into supper soon,” growled the voice
+of the cook, Jake Wren, from the doorway of the engineer’s mess
+tent, “I’ll eat your grub myself.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’d do it, too,” groaned Slim Morris, a young man who nevertheless
+weighed more than two hundred pounds. “Blaze, won’t you take
+us inside and put us in our high chairs?”</p>
+
+<p>There was infinite good humor in this small force of field engineers.
+As was afterwards learned, all of them were graduates either
+of colleges or of scientific schools but not one of them affected
+any superiority over the young newcomers.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the party had seated themselves there was a step outside,
+and Bad Pete stalked in looking decidedly sulky.</p>
+
+<p>“Evening,” he grunted, and helped himself to a seat at the table.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade and Hazelton, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Pete,
+I believe?” asked Blaisdell, without the trace of a smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” growled Pete, not looking up, for the first supply of food
+was on the table.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve had the pleasure, twice today, of meeting Mr. Peter,” replied
+Tom, with equal gravity.</p>
+
+<p>“See here, tenderfoot,” scowled Bad Pete, looking up from his
+plate, “don’t you call me ‘Peter’ again. Savvy?”</p>
+
+<p>“We don’t know your other name, sir,” rejoined Tom, eyeing the
+bad man with every outward sign of courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m just plain Pete. Savvy that?</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, Plain Pete,” Reade nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Pete dropped his soup spoon with a clatter letting his right hand
+fall to the holster.</p>
+
+<p>“Be quiet, Pete,” warned Blaisdell, his eyes shooting a cold glance
+at the angry man. “Reade is a newcomer, not used to our ways
+yet. Remember that this is a gentleman’s club.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then let him get out,” warned Pete blackly.</p>
+
+<p>“He belongs here by right, Pete, and you’re a guest. Of course we
+enjoy having you here with us, but, if you don’t care to take us
+as you find us, the fellows in the chainmen’s mess will be glad to
+have you join them.”</p>
+
+<p>“That tenderfoot is only a boy,” growled Pete. “If he can’t hold
+his tongue when men are around, then I’ll teach him how.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade hasn’t done anything to offend you,” returned Blaisdell,
+half sternly, half goodhumoredly. “You let him alone, and he’ll
+let you alone. I’m sure of that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Blaisdell, if you don’t see that I’m treated right in this mess,
+I’ll teach you something, too,” flared Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Threatening the president of the mess is a breach of courtesy
+on the part of any guest who attempts it,” spoke Blaisdell again.
+“Gentlemen, what is your pleasure?”</p>
+
+<p>“I move,” suggested Slim Morris quietly, “that Pete be considered
+no longer a member or guest of this mess.”</p>
+
+<p>“Second the motion,” cried Rutter, Rice and Grant together.</p>
+
+<p>“The motion appears to have been carried, without the necessity
+for putting it,” declared Mr. Blaisdell. “Pete, you have heard
+the pleasure of the mess.”</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” scowled Bad Pete, picking up his soup plate and draining it.</p>
+
+<p>Jake Wren, at this moment, entered with a big platter of roast
+beef, Bob, the helper, following with dishes of vegetables. Then
+Bob came in with plates, which he placed before Blaisdell. The
+latter counted the plates, finding eight.</p>
+
+<p>“We shan’t need this plate, Bob,” declared Blaisdell evenly, handing
+it back. Then he began to carve.</p>
+
+<p>“Put that plate back with the rest, Bob, you pop-eyed coyote,”
+ordered Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>Bob, looking uneasy, started to do so, but Blaisdell waved him
+away. At that instant Jake Wren came back into the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“For the present, Jake,” went on the assistant engineer, “serve
+only for seven in this tent. Pete is leaving us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean——-” flared Pete, leaping to his feet and striding
+toward the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“I mean,” responded Blaisdell, without looking up, “that we hope
+the chainmen’s mess will take you on. But if they don’t like
+you, they don’t have to do so.”</p>
+
+<p>For ten seconds, while Pete stood glaring at Blaisdell, it looked
+as though the late guest would draw his revolver. Pete was swallowing
+hard, his face having turned lead color.</p>
+
+<p>“Won’t you oblige us by going at once, Pete?” inquired Blaisdell
+coolly.</p>
+
+<p>“Not until I’ve settled my score here,” snarled the fellow. “Not
+until I’ve evened up with you, you——-”</p>
+
+<p>At the same time Pete reached for his revolver in evident earnest.
+Both his words and his movement were nipped short.</p>
+
+<p>Morris and Rice were the only men in the engineers’ party who
+carried revolvers. They carried weapons, in the day time, for
+protection against a very real foe, the Rocky Mountain rattlesnakes,
+which infested the territory through which the engineers were
+then working.</p>
+
+<p>Both these engineers reached swiftly for their weapons.</p>
+
+<p>Before they could produce them, however, or ore Pete could finish
+what he was saying, Tom Reade leaped up from his campstool, closing
+in behind the bad man.</p>
+
+<p>“Ow-ow! Ouch!” yelled Pete. “Let go, you painted coyote.”</p>
+
+<p>“Walk right out of the tent, and I shall rejoice to let you depart,”
+responded Tom steadily.</p>
+
+<p>Standing behind the fellow, he had, with his strong, wiry fingers,
+gripped Pete hard right over the biceps muscle of each arm. Like
+many another of his type Pete had developed no great amount of
+bodily strength. Though he struggled furiously, he was unable
+to wrench himself free from this youth who had trained hard in
+football training squads.</p>
+
+<p>“Step outside and cool off, Peter,” advised Tom, thrusting the
+bad man through the doorway. “Have too much pride, man, to force
+yourself on people who don’t want your company.”</p>
+
+<p>Reade ran his foe outside a dozen feet, then released him, turning
+and reentering the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“No, you don’t! Put up your pistol,” sounded the warning voice
+of Cook Jake Wren outside. “You take a shot at that young feller,
+Pete, and I’ll never serve you another mouthful as long as I’m
+in the Rockies!”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete gazed fiercely toward the engineers’ tent, hesitated
+a moment, and then walked wrathfully away.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br><span class="small">THE DAY OF REAL WORK DAWNS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The meal was finished in peace after that. It was so hearty a
+meal that Tom and Harry, who had not yet acquired the keen edge
+of appetite that comes to hard workers in the Rockies, had finished
+long before any one else.</p>
+
+<p>“You fellers had better hurry up,” commanded Jake Wren finally.
+“It’ll soon be dark, and I’m not going to furnish candles.”</p>
+
+<p>As the cook was an autocrat in camp, the engineers meekly called
+for more pie and coffee, disposed of it and strolled out of the
+mess tent over to their own little village under canvas.</p>
+
+<p>“Bring over your banjo, Matt,” urged Joe. “Nothing like the merry
+old twang to make the new boys feel at home in our school.”</p>
+
+<p>Rice needed no further urging. As darkness came down a volume
+of song rang out.</p>
+
+<p>“What time do we turn out in the morning?” Tom asked, as Mr.
+Blaisdell brought over a camp stool and sat near them.</p>
+
+<p>“At five sharp,” responded the assistant engineer. “An hour later
+we hit the long trail in earnest. This isn’t an idling camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad it isn’t,” Reade nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Then Blaisdell chatted with the boys, drawing out of them what
+they knew, or thought they knew, of civil engineering, especially
+as applied to railroad building.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you lads are going to make good,” said Blaisdell earnestly.
+“We’re in something of a fix on this work at best, and we need
+even more than we have, of the very best hustling engineers that
+can be found.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am beginning to wonder,” said Tom, “how, when you have such
+need of men of long training, your New York office ever came to
+pick us out.”</p>
+
+<p>“Because,” replied the assistant candidly, “the New York office
+doesn’t know the difference between an engineer and a railroad
+tie. Tim Thurston has been making a long yell at the New York
+offices of the company for engineers. Knowing the little that
+they do, our New York owners take anyone who says he’s an engineer,
+and unload the stranger on us.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope we prove up to the work,” sighed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re going to size up. We’ve got to, and that’s all there is
+to it,” retorted Tom. “We’ve been thrown in the water here, Harry,
+and we’ve got to swim—-which means that we’re going to do so.
+Mr. Blaisdell,” turning to the assistant, “you needn’t worry
+as to whether we’re going to make good. We _shall_!”</p>
+
+<p>“I like your spirit, at any rate, and I’ve a notion that you’re
+going to win through,” remarked the assistant.</p>
+
+<p>“You try out a lot of men here, don’t you?” asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“A good many,” assented Blaisdell.</p>
+
+<p>“From what I heard at table,” Hazelton continued, “Mr. Thurston
+drops a good many of the new men after trying them.”</p>
+
+<p>“He doesn’t drop any man that he doesn’t have to drop,” returned
+Blaisdell. “Tim Thurston wants every competent man that he can
+get here. Let me see——-”</p>
+
+<p>Blaisdell did some silent counting on his fingers. Then he went
+on:</p>
+
+<p>“In the last eleven weeks, Thurston has dropped just sixteen new
+men.”</p>
+
+<p>“Whew!” gasped Harry, casting a sidelong glance at his shoes,
+with visions of a coming walk at least as far back as Denver or
+Pueblo.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston isn’t going to drop us,” Tom declared. “Mr. Blaisdell,
+Hazelton and I are here and we’re going to hang on if we have
+to do it with our teeth. We’re going to know how to do what’s
+required of us if we have to stay up all night finding out. We’ve
+just got to make good, for we haven’t any money with which to
+get home or anywhere else. Besides, if we can’t make good here
+we’re not fit to be tried out anywhere else.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re in an especially hard fix, you see,” the assistant engineer
+explained. “When we got our charter something less than two years
+ago we undertook to have every mile of track ballasted and laid
+on the S.B. &amp; L., and trains running through, by September 30th
+of this year. There are three hundred and fifty-four miles of
+road in all. Now, in July, less than three months from the time,
+this camp is forty-nine miles from the terminus of the road at
+Loadstone, while the constructing engineers and the track-layers
+are thirty-eight miles behind us. Do you see the problem?”</p>
+
+<p>“You can get an extension of time, can’t you?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“We can—-_not_! You see, boys, the S.B. &amp; L. is the popular
+road. That is, it’s the one that the people of this state backed
+in the main. When we got our charter from the legislature there
+was a lot of opposition from the W.C. &amp; A. railroad. That organization
+wishes to add to their road, using the very locations that our
+preliminary engineering force selected for the S.B. &amp; L. The
+W.C. &amp; A. folks have such a bewildering number of millions at
+their back that they would have won away from us, had they been
+an American crowd. The W.C. &amp; A. has only American officers
+and a few small stockholders in this country. The W.C. &amp; A.
+is a foreign crowd throughout in reality, and back of them they
+have about all the money that’s loose in London, Paris and Berlin.
+The W.C. &amp; A. spent a lot of money at the state capital, I guess,
+for it was common report that some of the members of the legislature
+had sold out to the foreign crowd. So, though public clamor carried
+our charter through the legislature by sheer force, the best concession
+we could get was that our road must be built and in operation
+over the entire length by September 30th, or the state has the
+privilege of taking over our road at an appraised value. Do you
+see what that means?”</p>
+
+<p>“Does it mean that the state would then turn around and sell this
+road to the W.C. &amp; A. at a good profit?” asked Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve hit it,” nodded Mr. Blaisdell. “The W.C. &amp; A. would be
+delighted to take over our road at a price paid to the state that
+would give Colorado quite a few millions in profits. The legislature
+would then have a chance to spend those millions on public improvements
+in the state. I think you will understand why public clamor now
+seems to have swung about in favor of the W.C.&amp; A.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yet it seems to me,” put in Harry, “that, even if the S.B. &amp; L.
+does fail to get the railroad through in time, the stockholders
+will get their money back when the state takes the road over.”</p>
+
+<p>“That, one can never count on,” retorted Blaisdell, shaking his
+head. “The state courts would have charge of the appraising of
+the value of the road, and one can never tell just what courts
+will award. Ten chances to one the appraisal wouldn’t cover more
+than fifty per cent. of what the S.B. &amp; L. has expended, and
+thus our company would be many millions of dollars out of pocket.
+Besides, if the courts could be depended upon to appraise this
+uncompleted road at twenty per cent. more than has been expended
+upon it, our company would still lose, for what the S.B. &amp; L.
+really expects to do is to bag the big profits that can be made
+out of the section of the state that this road taps. Take it
+from me, boys, the officials of this road are crazy with anxiety
+to get the road through in time, and not lose the many millions
+that are waiting to be earned by the S.B. &amp; L. getting this road
+through is all that Tim Thurston dreams of, by night or day.
+His reputation—-and he has a big one in railroad building—-is
+wholly at stake on his carrying this job through. It’ll be a
+big prize for all of us, professionally, if we can back Thurston’s
+fight to win.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll back it to win,” glowed Tom ardently “Mr. Blaisdell, I am
+well aware that I’m hardly more than the lens cap on a transit
+in this outfit, but I’m going to do every ounce of my individual
+share to see this road through and running on time, and I’ll carry
+as much of any other man’s burden as I can load onto my shoulders!”</p>
+
+<p>“Good!” chuckled Blaisdell, holding out his hand. “I see that
+you’re one of us, heart and soul, Reade. What have you to say,
+Hazelton?”</p>
+
+<p>“I always let Tom do my talking, because he can do it better,”
+smiled Harry. “At the same time, I’ve known Tom Reade for a good
+many years, and his performance is always as good as his promise.
+As for me, Mr. Blaisdell, I’ve just told you that Tom does my
+talking, but I back up all that he promises for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pinkitty-plank-plink!” twanged Matt Rice’s banjo, starting into
+another rollicking air.</p>
+
+<p>“I guess it’s taps, boys,” called Blaisdell in his low but resonant
+voice. “Look at the chief’s tent; he’s putting out his candles now.”</p>
+
+<p>A glance at the gradually darkening walls of the chief engineers
+big tent showed that this was the case.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll all turn in,” nodded Blaisdell.</p>
+
+<p>So Tom and Harry hastened to their tent, where they unfolded their
+camp cots and set them up. There was not much bed-making. The
+body of the cot was of canvas, and required no mattress. From
+out of their baggage each took a small pillow and pair of blankets.
+At this altitude the night was already rather chilly, despite
+the fact that it was July.</p>
+
+<p>Rapidly undressing in the dark the young engineers crawled in
+between their blankets.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, at last,” murmured Harry, “we’re engineers in earnest.
+That is,” he added rather wistfully, “if we last.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve got to last,” replied Tom in a low voice, hardly above
+a whisper, “and we’re going to. Harry, we’ve left behind us the
+playtime of boyhood, and we’re beginning real life! But in that
+playtime we learned how to play real football. From now on we’ll
+apply all of the best and most strenuous rules of football to
+the big art of making a living and a reputation. Good night,
+old fellow! Dream of the folks back in Gridley. I’m going to.”</p>
+
+<p>“And of the chums at West Point and Annapolis,” gaped Hazelton.
+“God bless them!”</p>
+
+<p>That was not the only short prayer sent up, but within five minutes
+both youngsters had fallen sound asleep. The man who can sleep
+as they did, when the head touches the pillow, has many successes
+still ahead of him!</p>
+
+<p>Nor did they worry about not waking in season in the morning.
+Slim Morris had promised to see to it that they were awake on time.</p>
+
+<p>Slam! Bump! Tom Reade was positive he had not been asleep more
+than a minute when that rude interruption came. He awoke to find
+himself scrambling up from the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Tom had his eyes open in time to see Harry Hazelton hit the ground
+with force. Then Slim Morris retreated to the doorway of the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you fellows going to sleep until pay days” Slim demanded jovially.</p>
+
+<p>Tom hustled into his clothes, reached the doorway of the tent
+and found the sun already well up in the skies.</p>
+
+<p>“The boys are sitting down to breakfast,” called Slim over his
+shoulder. “Want any?”</p>
+
+<p>“_Do_ I want any?” mocked Tom. He had laid out his khaki clothing
+the night before, and was now in it, save for his khaki jacket,
+which he caught up on his arm as he raced along toward the wash bench.</p>
+
+<p>Nor had he gone very far with the soap and water when Harry Hazelton
+was beside him.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, Tom!” breathed Harry in ecstacy. “Do you blame people for
+loving the Rocky Mountains? This grand old mountain air is food
+and drink—-almost.”</p>
+
+<p>“It may be for you. I want some of the real old camp chuck—-plenty
+of it,” retorted Reade, drawing a pocket comb out and running it
+through his damp locks while he gazed into the foot-square camp mirror
+hanging from a tree.</p>
+
+<p>“May we come in?” inquired Tom, pausing in the doorway of the
+engineers’ mess tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Not if you’re in doubt about it,” replied Mr. Blaisdell, who
+was already eating with great relish. The boys slid into their
+seats, while Bob rapidly started things their way.</p>
+
+<p>How good it all tasted! Bacon and fried eggs, corn bread and
+potatoes, coffee and a big dish of that time-honored standby in
+engineers’ camp—-baked beans. Then, just as Tom and Harry, despite
+their appetites, sat back filled, Bob appeared with a plate of
+flapjacks and a pitcher of molasses.</p>
+
+<p>“Ten minutes of six,” observed Mr. Blaisdell, consulting his watch
+as he finished. “Not much more time, gentlemen.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry followed the assistant engineer out into the open.</p>
+
+<p>“Can you tell us now, Mr. Blaisdell, what we’re to do today?”
+Reade inquired eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“See those transits?” inquired Blaisdell, pointing to two of the
+telescoped and compassed instruments used by surveyors in running
+courses. “One for each of you. Take your choice. You’ll go
+out today under charge of Jack Rutter. Of course it will be a
+little bit slow to you the first two or three days, but between
+you, I hope to see you do more than Rutter could do alone. You’ll
+each have two chainmen. Rutter will give you blank form books
+for your field notes. He’ll work back and forth between the two
+of you, seeing that you each do your work right. Boys, don’t
+make any mistakes today, will you, So much depends, you know,
+upon the way you start in at a new job.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll do the best that’s in us,” breathed Tom ardently.</p>
+
+<p>“Engineer Rutter,” called Blaisdell, “your two assistants are
+ready. Get your two sets of chainmen and make a flying start.”</p>
+
+<p>Animated by the spirit of activity that pervaded the camp, Tom
+and Harry ran to select their instruments, while Rutter hastened
+after his chainmen.</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete had not appeared at either mess this morning. He had
+small need to, for, in the still watches of the night, he had
+burglarized the cook’s stores so successfully that not even that
+argus-eyed individual had noticed the loss.</p>
+
+<p>Having breakfasted heartily in a deep thicket, Pete now looked
+down over the camp, his eyes twinkling in an evil way.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll get bounced out of mess on account of two pasty-faced tenderfeet
+like those boys, will I?” Pete grumbled to himself. “Before
+this morning is over I reckon I’ll have all accounts squared
+with the tenderfeet!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br><span class="small">“TRYING OUT” THE GRIDLEY BOYS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The chainmen picked up the transits, carrying also the chains
+and rods. Rutter led the way, Tom and Harry keeping on either
+side of him, except when the rough mountain trail narrowed. Then
+they were obliged to walk at his heels.</p>
+
+<p>“We are making this survey first,” Rutter explained, “and then
+the leveling over the same ground follows within a few days.
+Both the surveying and the leveling have to be done with great
+care. They must tally accurately, or the work will all go wrong,
+and the contractors would be thrown out so badly that they’d hardly
+know where they stood. A serious mistake in surveying or leveling
+at any point might throw the work down for some days. As you’ve
+already heard explained, any delay, now, is going to lose us our
+charter as sure as guns.”</p>
+
+<p>For more than a mile and a half the brisk walk continued. At
+last Rutter halted, pointing to a stake driven in the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“See the nail head in the top of the stake?” he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” Tom nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find a similar nail head in every stake. The exact point
+of the plummet of your bog-line must centre on the middle of that
+nail head. You can’t be too exact about that, remember.”</p>
+
+<p>Turning to one of the chainmen, Rutter added:</p>
+
+<p>“Jansen, take a rod and hustle along to the next stake.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” answered the man, and started on a run. Nor did he
+pause until he had located the stake. Then he signaled back with
+his right hand. Tom Reade, in the meantime, had quickly set up
+his transit over the first stake on his part of the course. He
+did some rough shifting, at first, until the point of the plummet
+was exactly over the nail head. Then followed some careful adjusting
+of the instrument on its supports until two fine spirit levels
+showed that the compass of the instrument was exactly level.
+“Now, let me see you get your sight,” urged Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>Tom did so, coolly, manipulating his instrument as rapidly as
+he could with safety, yet not with speed enough to cause himself
+confusion or worry.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve got a sight on the rod,” announced Reade, without emotion.</p>
+
+<p>“Are the cross-hairs, as you see them through the telescope, just
+on the mark?” Rutter demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let me have a look,” ordered Rutter. “A fine, close sight,” he
+assented, after taking a careful look through the telescope.
+“Now, take your reading.”</p>
+
+<p>This showed the course by the compass, and was expressed in degrees,
+minutes and seconds. The poor reading of a course is one of the
+frequent faults of new or careless engineers.</p>
+
+<p>“Here is a magnifier for the vernier,” continued Rutter, just
+after Tom had started to make his reading.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you; I have a pretty good one of my own,” Tom answered,
+diving into one of his pockets and bringing to light a small but
+powerful reading glass with an aplanatic lens.</p>
+
+<p>“You carry a better magnifier than I do,” laughed Rutter. “Hazelton,
+do You carry a pocket glass?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” nodded Harry “I have one just like Reade’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good! I can see that you youngsters believe in good tools.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom in the meantime was busy with the vernier of his transit.
+This is an ingenious device for showing the smaller divisions
+into which the circles of the compass are divided. Tom quickly
+jotted down his field note in degrees, minutes and seconds. One
+chainman now held an end of a hundred-link chain at the nail head
+on the stake, while a second man started toward the rodman, unfolding
+the chain as he went.</p>
+
+<p>Tom remained over his transit. The traveling chainman frequently
+glanced back for directions from Reade whether or not he was off
+the course of a straight line to the next stake.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the chain-bearer was a little to the left of the line.</p>
+
+<p>Tom held a hand over the telescope of the transit, moving it very
+slowly to the right. The chain-bearer, glancing slowly back,
+stepped slowly to the right of the course until Tom’s hand fell
+abruptly. Then the chain-bearer stopped, knowing that he was
+on the right line. A metal stake, having a loop at the top from
+which fluttered a marker of red flannel, the man stuck upright
+in the ground. Tom took a peep, signaling so gently that the
+man moved the stake just half an inch before Reade’s hand again
+fell.</p>
+
+<p>“That stake is right; go ahead,” ordered Tom, but he said it not by
+word of mouth, but merely with a slight gesture of pushing forward.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve been well trained, I’ll bet a hat,” smiled Butter. “I
+can tell that by the practiced way that you signal. O’Brien!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” answered another chainman, stepping forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Take Thane with you, and carry Mr. Hazelton’s transit to Grizzly
+Ledge. Mr. Hazelton and I will be there presently.”</p>
+
+<p>Two more chainmen started away.</p>
+
+<p>Now, both of Tom’s chainmen started forward, the rear one moving
+to the first metal stake that displayed the red marker. Tom still
+remained at the transit, motioning to the men whenever they got
+the least out of a true straight line to the rodman. It was not
+hard work for Reade at this point, but it required his closest
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>After some time had passed the chainmen had “chained” the whole
+distance between Tom’s stake and the rod resting on the next stake.
+Now the rodman, after making a close measurement, signaled back.
+Nine downward sweeps of his right arm signified nine chains;
+next the movements of his arm signaled the forty-four links of
+a tenth chain. Then seven movements of the left hand across in
+front of the eyes, and Reade knew that stood for seven-tenths
+of a link. Hence on the page of his field note book Tom wrote
+the distance between the stakes as nine chains and forty-four
+and seven-tenths links.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s good,” nodded Rutter, who had been watching every move
+closely. The forty-four signaled by the rodman’s left arm, instead
+of being made up of forty-four downward strokes, had consisted
+of four such strokes, followed by a pause, and then four more
+strokes.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll go along and see you get the course and distance to the
+third rod,” said Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>This course and distance, too, in time, had been measured and
+carefully noted by Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll get along all right, if you pay strict attention and don’t
+become confused or careless,” nodded Jack Rutter. “Now, I’ll
+write ‘Reade’ on this starting stake of yours, and I’ll write
+Hazelton on your friend’s starting stake. After you’ve surveyed
+to Hazelton’s starting stake let your rodman bring you forward
+until you overhaul me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very good, sir,” nodded Tom coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Rutter and Harry moved along the trail, leaving Tom with his own
+“gang.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing very mentally wearing in this job,” reflected Tom, when
+he found himself left to his own resources. “All a fellow has
+to do is to keep his head clear, be faithful and exactly honest
+with his work, and move with all the speed that good, straight
+work will allow.”</p>
+
+<p>So Reade moved ahead, getting courses and distances to five more
+stakes. Then, as he reached the sixth, he gazed ahead and smiled.
+A mountain pond lay right in his straight path to the seventh stake.</p>
+
+<p>“Can that pond be easily forded?” Reade asked the nearer chainman.</p>
+
+<p>“No, sir; it’s about ten feet deep in the centre.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom smiled grimly to himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Rutter didn’t say anything about this to me,” Tom muttered to
+himself. “He put this upon me, to see how I’d get over an obstacle
+like an unfordable pond. Well, it’s going to take a lot of time
+but I’ll show Mr. Jack Rutter!”</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, Reade allowed his chainmen to proceed measuring until
+they were fairly close to the pond. Then he went forward to the
+metal stake that had just been driven. From this stake he laid
+out a new course to the north and at exact right angles with the
+proper course, sending his chainmen forward with markers. When
+he had thus passed the end of the pond Reade took another course
+at exactly right angles to the northerly course, but now going
+westerly. This he extended until it passed the pond by a few
+feet. Once more Reade laid out a course, southerly, at exact
+right angles with the westerly course, the southerly line being
+exactly four chains in length, as the northerly line had been.
+Now, the young engineer was able to resume his surveying toward
+the seventh stake. The extra route that he had followed made
+three sides of a square. Tom was now in line again, with the
+pond passed, and the exact distance between the sixth and seventh
+stakes.</p>
+
+<p>“I guess that was where Rutter was sure he’d have me,” chuckled
+Tom quietly. “He’s probe ably waiting ahead to see me come hot-footing
+over the trail to ask for orders.”</p>
+
+<p>At the tenth stake Tom found “Hazelton” written thereon.</p>
+
+<p>“Men,” said the young engineer, “I guess this is where we go forward
+and look for the crowd. Get up the stuff and we’ll trot along.”</p>
+
+<p>Nearly an hour of solid tramping over the trail followed before
+Tom and his party, guided by the rodman, came upon Harry Hazelton.
+Jack Rutter, chewing a blade of grass, sat under a tree at a
+little distance from where Harry was watching and signaling to
+two chainmen who were getting a distance.</p>
+
+<p>“Is your own work all done?” asked Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” Tom answered.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see your field notes.”</p>
+
+<p>Reade passed over the book containing them. From an inner pocket
+Rutter drew out his own field note book. Before another minute
+had passed Tom had opened his eyes very wide.</p>
+
+<p>“Your field notes are all straight, my boy. If you’ve made any
+errors, then I’ve made the same.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve already been over this work that we’ve been doing?” demanded
+Tom, feeling somewhat abashed.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course,” nodded the older and more experienced engineer.
+“You don’t for a moment suppose we’d trust you with original work
+until we had tried you out, do you? We have all the field notes
+for at least three miles more ahead of here. Hazelton!”</p>
+
+<p>“Coming,” said Harry, after jotting down his last observations
+and the distance.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see your last notes, Hazelton,” directed Rutter. “Yes;
+your work is all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you know about this, Harry?” laughingly demanded Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve suspected for the last two hours that Mr. Rutter was merely
+trying us out over surveyed courses,” laughed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“If you don’t know how to do anything other than transit work,”
+Rutter declared, “the chief can use all your time at that. He’ll
+be pleased when I tell him that you’re at least as good surveyors
+as I am. And, Reade, I see from your notes that you knew how
+to measure across a pond that your chainmen couldn’t ford.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Price taught me that trick, back in Gridley,” Tom responded.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Jack Rutter sprang to his feet sniffing vigorously.</p>
+
+<p>“Boys,” he announced, “an adventure is coming our way. Can you
+guess what it is?”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry gazed at him blankly.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br><span class="small">TOM DOESN’T MIND “ARTILLERY”</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“I give it up,” Reade replied.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, it’s dinner time,” declared Rutter, displaying the face
+of his watch.</p>
+
+<p>“Do we have to walk all the way back to camp?” queried Harry,
+who knew that no provisions had been brought with them.</p>
+
+<p>“No; camp is going to be brought to us,” smiled Rutter. “At least,
+a part of the camp will be brought here. Look up the trail there,
+at that highest rise. Do you see dust near there?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” nodded Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“A burro pack-train, conveying our food and that of the other
+surveying parties ahead of us,” nodded Rutter. “You’ll find the
+cook’s helper, Bob, in charge of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is that the way the meals are brought out every day?” asked Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“No; but now we’re getting pretty far from camp, and it would
+waste a lot of our time to go back and forth. So our noon meals
+will come by burro route. Tomorrow or the day after the camp
+will be moved forward.”</p>
+
+<p>“How long before that train will be here?” Tom wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>“Probably ten minutes,” guessed Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’m going to see if I can’t find some little stream such
+as I’ve passed this morning,” Tom went on. “I want to wash before
+I’m introduced to clean food.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll go along presently,” nodded Harry to his chum. “There’s
+something about the spirit level on this transit of mine that
+I want to inspect.”</p>
+
+<p>So Tom Reade trudged off into the brush alone. After a few minutes
+he returned.</p>
+
+<p>“That burro outfit in sight?” he called, as he neared the trail.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” answered Rutter. “But it’s close. Once in a while I can
+hear a burro clicking his hoofs against stones.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry appeared two minutes later, just as the foremost burro,
+with Bob by its head, put in an appearance about fifty yards away.</p>
+
+<p>“All ready for you, Bob,” called Rutter good-humoredly.</p>
+
+<p>“You gentlemen of the engineer corps are always ready,” grunted
+the cook’s helper.</p>
+
+<p>A quick stop was made, Bob unloading tin plates, bowls and cups.</p>
+
+<p>“Soup!” cried Rutter in high glee. “This is fine living for buck
+engineers, Bob!”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s even dessert,” returned the cook’s helper gravely, exposing
+an entire apple pie.</p>
+
+<p>There was also meat, still fairly warm, as well as canned vegetables
+in addition to potatoes. A pot of hot coffee finished the repast
+that Bob unloaded at this point.</p>
+
+<p>“Everything but napkins!” chuckled Rutter, as he and the boys
+quickly “set table” on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“No; something else is missing,” answered Tom gravely. “Bob forgot
+the finger-bowls.”</p>
+
+<p>The helper, beginning to feel that he was being “guyed,” took
+refuge in cold indifference.</p>
+
+<p>“Just stack the things up at this point when you’re through,” directed
+Bob. “I’ll pick ’em up when I come back on the trail.”</p>
+
+<p>Rutter, like a good chief, saw to it that his two assistants and
+the chainmen were started on their meal ere he himself began.
+In half an hour every morsel of food and the final drop of coffee
+had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>“Twenty minutes to loaf,” advised Rutter, throwing himself on
+the ground and closing his eyes. “I’ll take a nap. You’d better
+follow my example.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then who’ll call us?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I will,” gaped Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Without a clock to ring an alarm?”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! Any real backwoods engineer can wake up in twenty minutes
+if he sets his mind on it,” retorted Jack.</p>
+
+<p>This was a fact, though it was the first that Tom or Harry had
+heard of it.</p>
+
+<p>“See the time?” called Rutter, holding out his watch. “Twenty
+minutes of one. I’ll call you at one o’clock—-see if I don’t.”</p>
+
+<p>In that fine air, with all the warmth of the noon hour, there
+was no difficulty in going to sleep. Truth to tell, Tom and Harry
+had tramped so far that forenoon that they were decidedly tired.
+Within sixty seconds both “cubs” were sound asleep.</p>
+
+<p>“One o’clock!” called Rutter, sitting up and consulting his watch.
+“Fall to, slaves! There is a big batch of work awaiting us.
+Hazelton, you can go right on where you left off. Survey along
+carefully until you come upon a stake marked ‘Reade.’ Then come
+forward until you find us. Reade, I’ll go along with you and
+show you where to break in.”</p>
+
+<p>Preceded by their chainmen, Rutter and Reade trudged along the
+trail for something like a mile.</p>
+
+<p>“Halt,” ordered Jack Rutter. “Reade, write your autograph on that
+stake and begin.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom stepped over to the transit, adjusting it carefully and setting
+the hanging plummet on dead centre with the nail head in the top
+of the short stake.</p>
+
+<p>“Never set up a transit again,” directed Rutter, “without making
+sure that your levels are absolutely true, and that your vernier
+arrangement is in order.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe you’ll ever catch me at that, Mr. Rutter,” Tom
+answered, busying himself with the finer adjustments of the transit.
+“Mr. Price pounded that into me every time that he took me out
+in the field.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nevertheless,” went on Rutter, “I have known older engineers
+than you, Reade, who became careless, and their carelessness cost
+their employers a lot of wasted time and money. Now, you——-”</p>
+
+<p>At this juncture Jack Rutter suddenly crouched behind a low ledge
+at the right.</p>
+
+<p>“Get behind here, quickly, Reade!” called Rutter. “Bad Pete is
+up the hillside, about two hundred yards from you——-”</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t time to bother with him, now,” Tom broke in composedly.</p>
+
+<p>“Duck fast, boy! Pete has an ugly grin on his face, and he’s
+reaching for his pistol. He’s got it out—-he’s going to shoot!”
+whispered Rutter, drawing his head down where it would be safe
+from flying bullets.</p>
+
+<p>The chainmen, lounging nearby, had wasted no time in getting safely
+to cover.</p>
+
+<p>“Going to shoot, is he?” murmured Tom, without glancing away from
+the instrument. “Does Peter really know how to shoot,”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find out! Jump—-like a flash, boy!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom went calmly on tinkering with the mechanism of his instrument.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! sounded up the trail. Tom’s fingers didn’t falter as he
+adjusted a small, brass screw.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! came the second shot. Tom betrayed no more annoyance than
+before. Bad Pete was aiming to drive bullets into the ground close
+to the young engineer’s feet, making him skip about. The sixth shot
+Pete was saving for clipping Reade’s hat from his head.</p>
+
+<p>The shots continued to ring out. Tom, though he appeared to be
+absorbed in his instrument, counted. When he had counted the
+sixth shot Reade dropped suddenly, picked up a stone that lay
+at his feet, and whirled about.</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade hadn’t devoted years to ball-playing without knowing
+how to throw straight. The stone left his hand, arching upward,
+and flew straight toward Bad Pete, who had advanced steadily as
+he fired.</p>
+
+<p>Whiff! Though Pete tried, too late, to dodge the stone, it landed
+against his sombrero, carrying that away without injuring the
+owner.</p>
+
+<p>“Kindly clear out!” called Tom coolly. “You and your noise annoy me
+when I’m trying to do a big afternoon’s work.”</p>
+
+<p>Snatching up his sombrero, Bad Pete vanished into a clump of brush.</p>
+
+<p>Jack Rutter leaped up from his haven of safety, advancing swiftly
+to his cub assistant.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he exclaimed, with ungrudging admiration, “you’re the
+coolest young fellow I ever met, without exception. But you’re
+foolhardy, boy. Bad Pete is a real shot. One of these days,
+when you’re just as cool, he’ll fill you full of lead!”</p>
+
+<p>“If he does?” retorted Tom, again bending over his transit, “and
+if I notice it, I’ll throw a bigger stone at him than I did that
+time, and it’ll land on him a few inches lower down.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, boy, don’t you understand that the days of David and Goliath
+are gone by,” remonstrated Rutter. “It’s true you’re turned the
+laugh on Pete, but that fellow won’t forgive you. He may open
+on you again within two minutes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe he will,” replied Tom, with his quiet smile.
+“At the same time, I’ll be prepared for him.”</p>
+
+<p>Bending to the ground, and rummaging about a bit, Reade selected
+three stones that would throw well. These he dropped into one
+of his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, let the bad man trot himself on, if he has to,” added the
+cub engineer, waving a signal to the rodman, who had just halted
+at the next stake.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, of all the cool ones!” grunted Rutter, under his breath.
+“But, then, Reade’s a tenderfoot. He doesn’t understand just
+how dangerous a fellow like Pete can be.”</p>
+
+<p>The chainman started away to measure the distance. From up the
+hillside came sounds of smothered but very bad language.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s our friend Peter again,” Tom chuckled to Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and the ruffian may open on you again at any moment,” warned
+Jack, keeping an anxious glance turned in the direction whence
+came the disturbing voice of Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I don’t think he will,” drawled Tom, making a hand signal
+to the leading chainman to step a little more to the left. “I
+hope not, anyway, for the noise of revolver shots takes my thoughts
+away from my work.”</p>
+
+<p>Jack Rutter said no more after that, though through the rest of
+the afternoon he kept an alert lookout for signs of Pete. There
+were none, however. Rather earlier than usual, on account of
+the distance back to camp, Rutter knocked off work for the entire
+party and the start on the return to camp was made.</p>
+
+<p>Harry Hazelton was considerably excited when he heard the news
+of the firing on his chum. Reade, however, appeared to be but
+little interested in the subject.</p>
+
+<p>Pete was not in camp that evening.</p>
+
+<p>Rutter went at once to the tent of the chief, to tell him how
+well the “cubs” had done during the day. Nor did Jack forget
+to relate the encounter with Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the underlings of the staff were seating themselves around
+the table in their mess, Mr. Thurston thrust his head in at the
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” called the chief engineer, “I have heard about your trouble
+with Pete today.”</p>
+
+<p>“There wasn’t any real trouble, sir,” Tom answered.</p>
+
+<p>“Fortunately for you, Reade, Pete didn’t intend to hit you. If
+he had meant to do so, he’d have done it. I’ve seen him shoot
+all the spots out of a ten of clubs. Don’t provoke the fellow,
+Reade, or he’ll shoot you full of fancy holes. Of course it showed
+both grit and coolness on your part in keeping steadily on with
+your work all the time the fellow was firing at you. Still, it
+was unwise to expose yourself needlessly to danger.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t consider Bad Pete particularly dangerous,” Tom rejoined.</p>
+
+<p>“A lawless man with a loaded revolver is hardly a safe person
+to trifle with,” retorted Mr. Thurston dryly.</p>
+
+<p>“I see that I shall have to make a confession,” smiled Tom. “It
+was this way, sir. When Hazelton and I were on our way west Harry
+insisted that we were coming into a dangerous country and that
+we’d need firearms. So Harry bought two forty-five six-shooters
+and several boxes of cartridges, too. I was provoked when I heard
+about it, for we hadn’t any too much money, and Harry had bought
+the revolvers out of our joint treasury.”</p>
+
+<p>“I felt sure we’d need the pistols,” interrupted Hazelton. “Today’s
+affair shows that I was right. Tom, you’ll have to carry one
+of the revolvers after this.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m no gun-packer,” retorted Tom scornfully. “Young men have
+no business carting firearms about unless they’re hunting or going
+to war. Any fellow who carries a pistol as he would a lead pencil
+is either a coward or a lunatic.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad to hear you say that, Reade,” nodded Mr. Thurston approvingly.
+“Two of my staff carry pistols, but they do so under my orders.
+In the first place they’re grown men, not boys. In the second
+place, they’re working over a stretch of ground where rattlesnakes
+are thick. Your coolness today served you better than a pistol
+would have done. If you had had a revolver, and had drawn it,
+Pete would have drilled you through the head.”</p>
+
+<p>“Drilled me through the head—-with what?” asked Tom, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>“With a bullet, of course, young man,” retorted Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe he would have gone as far as that,” laughed Tom.
+“You see, sir, it was like this: When I found Harry so set on
+carrying a pistol, I went down deep in my own pocket and bought
+two boxes of blank cartridges to fit the forty-fives. I thought
+if Harry were going to do some shooting, it would be the part
+of friendship to fix him so that he could do it in safety to himself
+and others.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry’s face turned decidedly red. He was beginning to feel foolish.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, this morning,” Tom continued, “when I got the khaki out
+of my dunnage, I ran across the blanks. I don’t know what made
+me do it, but I dropped the box of blanks into one of my pockets.
+This noon, when I went off to find a stream where I could wash
+up, I almost stepped on our friend Peter, asleep under a bush.
+For greater comfort he had taken off his belt and holster. Somehow,
+I didn’t like the idea of his being there. As softly as I could
+I crept close. I emptied his revolver and fitted in blanks from
+my own box. Then I took about twenty cartridges out of Peter’s
+belt and replaced them with blanks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean to tell me,” broke in Rutter, “that Bad Pete, when
+he turned his revolver loose on you, was shooting nothing but
+blanks?”</p>
+
+<p>“That was all he had to shoot,” Tom returned coolly. “And blanks
+were all he had in his belt to reload with. Don’t you remember
+when we heard him making a noise up the hillside, and talking
+in dots and dashes!”</p>
+
+<p>“I do,” nodded Rutter, looking half dazed.</p>
+
+<p>“That,” grinned Reade, “was when he started in to reload? and
+discovered that he had nothing on hand but temperance cartridges.
+Here——-” Tom began to unload one of his pockets upon the wooden
+table before the astonished eyes of the others. There was a mixture
+of his own blank cartridges with the real ammunition that he had
+stealthily abstracted from Bad Pete’s revolver and belt.</p>
+
+<p>Such a whoop of glee ascended that the head chainman came running
+from the other nearby mess tent to see what was up.</p>
+
+<p>“Just a little joke among our youngsters, my man,” explained Mr.
+Thurston. “The young gentlemen are going to keep the joke to
+themselves for the present, though.”</p>
+
+<p>So the mystified and disappointed chainman returned to his own
+crowd.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see, Reade,” continued Mr. Thurston, turning once more
+to Tom, “what is your salary?”</p>
+
+<p>“I was taken on, sir, at forty dollars a month, as a starter,”
+Tom replied.</p>
+
+<p>“A young man with your size of head is worth more than that to
+the company. We’ll call it fifty a month, Reade, and keep our
+eyes on you for signs of further improvement,” said the chief
+engineer, as he turned to go back to his own waiting dinner.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br><span class="small">THE BITE FROM THE BUSH</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>From the time that they parted in the morning, until they started
+to go back to camp in the afternoon, Tom and Harry did not meet
+the next day. Each, with his chainmen, was served from Bob’s
+burro train at noon.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you see Bad Pete today?” was Harry’s greeting, as they Started
+back over the trail.</p>
+
+<p>“No.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you hear from him or of him in any way?” pressed Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Not a sign of any sort from Peter,” Tom went on. “I’ve a theory
+as to what’s keeping him away. He’s on a journey.”</p>
+
+<p>“Journey?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; between you and me, I believe that Peter has gone in search
+of someone who can sell him, or give him, a few forty-five cartridges.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’d better apply to you, then, Tom,” grinned Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, I couldn’t sell him any,” Tom replied.</p>
+
+<p>“What did you do with those you had last night?”</p>
+
+<p>“You remember the unfordable pond that came in one of my courses
+yesterday?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“To-day I threw all of Peter’s .45’s into the middle of the pond.
+They must have sunk a foot into the mud by this time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Seriously, Tom, don’t you believe that you’d better take one
+of the revolvers that I bought and wear it on a belt?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not I,” retorted Reade. “Harry, I wish you could get that sort
+of foolishness out of your head. A revolver is of no possible
+use to a man who hasn’t any killing to do. I’m trying to learn
+to be a civil engineer, not a man-killer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I believe that Bad Pete will ‘get’ you one of these days,”
+sighed Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait until he does,” smiled Tom. “Then you can have the fun
+of coming around and saying ‘I told you so.’”</p>
+
+<p>Their chainmen were ahead of the “cub” engineers on the trail.
+Tom and Harry were talking earnestly when they heard a pony’s
+hoofs behind them. Hazelton turned with a start.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, it’s Rutter mounted,” Hazelton said, with a sigh of relief.
+“I was afraid it was Bad Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Take my word for it, Harry. Peter is a good deal of a coward.
+He won’t dare to show up until he has some real cartridges.
+The temperance kind do not give a man like Peter any real sense
+of security in the world.”</p>
+
+<p>Rutter rode along on his sure-footed mountain pony at a rapid
+jog. When he came close, Tom and Harry stepped aside into the
+brush to let him go by on the narrow trail.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t get off into the brush that way,” yelled Rutter from the
+distance.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re trying to give you room,” Tom called.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t need the room yet. I won’t run over you, anyway. Stand out
+of the brush, I tell you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom good-humoredly obeyed, Harry moving, too, though starting
+an instant later.</p>
+
+<p>Prompt as he was, however, Tom Reade was a fraction of a second
+too late.</p>
+
+<p>Behind them there was a half-whirring, half-clicking sound.</p>
+
+<p>Then Reade felt a stinging sensation in his left leg three or
+four inches from the heel.</p>
+
+<p>“Look out!” yelled Rutter, more excitedly than before. “Get away
+from there!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom ran some distance down the trail. Then he halted, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder what’s on Rut’s mind,” he smiled, as Hazelton joined
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Jack Rutter came at a gallop, reining up hard as he reached where
+Tom had stood.</p>
+
+<p>Again that whirring, clicking sound. Rutter’s pony reared.</p>
+
+<p>“Still, you brute!” commanded Rutter sternly. Then, without waiting
+to see whether his mount would stand alone, Rutter leaped from
+saddle, going forward with his quirt—-a rawhide riding whip—-uplifted.</p>
+
+<p>Into the brush from which Tom had stepped Rutter went cautiously,
+though he did not lose much time about it.</p>
+
+<p>Swish! swish! swish! sounded the quirt, as Rutter laid it on
+the ground ahead of him. Then he stepped out. The pony had drawn
+back thirty or forty feet and now stood trembling, nostrils distended.</p>
+
+<p>“Is that the way you take your exercise?” Reade demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Rutter, however, came running along the trail, his face white
+as though from worry.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he demanded, “Did that thing strike you?”</p>
+
+<p>“What thing,” asked Tom in wonderment.</p>
+
+<p>“The rattler that I killed!”</p>
+
+<p>“Rattler?” gasped both cub engineers.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. From the distance I thought I saw it strike out at you.
+There’s a nest of the reptiles at some point near that brush.
+That’s why I warned you to get away from there. Never stand
+in brush, in the Rockies, unless you’ve looked before stepping.
+Were you struck?”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe something did sting me,” Reade admitted, remembering
+that smarting sensation in his left leg.</p>
+
+<p>“Which leg was it? demanded Rutter, halting beside the cub.</p>
+
+<p>“Left—-a little above the ankle,” replied Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Take off your legging. I must have a look. Hazelton, call to
+one of your chainmen and send him back to make sure of my pony.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry hastened to obey, then came back breathless. Rutter, in
+the meantime, had turned up enough of Tom’s left trousers’ leg
+to bare a spot on the flesh that was red. There were fang marks
+in the centre of this reddened surface.</p>
+
+<p>“You got it, boy,” spoke Rutter huskily. “Now we’ll have to go
+to work like lightning to save you.”</p>
+
+<p>“How are you going to do it?” asked Tom coolly, though he felt
+decidedly queer over the startling news.</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton,” demanded Rutter, turning upon the other cub engineer,
+“have you nerve enough to put your lips to that wound, and draw,
+draw draw as hard as you can, and keep on until you’ve drawn all
+the poison out?”</p>
+
+<p>“I have,” nodded Harry, sinking to his knees beside his chum.
+“I’ll draw all the poison out if I have to swallow enough to
+kill me.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t poison yourself, Hazelton,” replied Rutter quickly,
+as one of the chainmen came near with the recaptured pony. “Snake
+venom isn’t deadly in the stomach—-only when it gets into the
+blood direct. There’s no danger unless you’ve a cut or a deep
+scratch in your mouth. Spit the stuff out as you draw.”</p>
+
+<p>Having given these directions, Jack Rutter turned, with the help
+of one of the chainmen to fasten a blanket behind the saddle to
+make a sort of extra saddle. The blanket had been lying rolled
+at the back of the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>Harry, in the meantime, without flinching, performed his task
+well. Had he but known it, Rutter’s explanation of the lack of
+danger was true; but in that moment, with his chum’s life at stake,
+Harry didn’t care a fig whether the explanation were true or not.
+All he thought of was saving Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon that part of the job has been done well,” nodded Rutter,
+turning back from the horse. “Now, Reade, I want you to mount
+behind me and hold on tightly, for we’re going to do some hard,
+swift riding. The sooner we get you to camp the surer you will
+be of coming out of this scrape all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve never had much experience in horsemanship, and I may out
+a sorry figure at it,” laughed Reade, as, with Harry’s help he
+got up behind Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Horsemanship doesn’t count—-speed does,” replied Rutter tersely.
+“Hold on tightly, and we’ll make as good time as possible. I’m
+going to start now.”</p>
+
+<p>Away they went, at a hard gallop, Tom doing his best to hold on,
+but feeling like a jumping-jack.</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t take us more than twenty minutes,” promised Jack Rutter.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br><span class="small">WHAT A SQUAW KNEW</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>All the way to camp Rutter kept the pony at a hard gallop.</p>
+
+<p>“Thurston! Mr. Thurston!” he shouted. “Be quick, please!”</p>
+
+<p>Even as the young man called, Mr. Thurston ran out of his tent.</p>
+
+<p>“You know something about rattlesnake bites, I believe?” Rutter
+went on hurriedly, as Tom Reade slipped to the ground. “The boy
+has been bitten by one and we’ll have to work quickly.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t bring any liquor, though,” objected Reade, leaning up against
+a tree. “If liquor is your cure for snakebites I prefer to take
+my chances with the bite.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get the shoe off and roll up the trousers,” directed the chief
+engineer, without loss of words. “Fortunately, I believe we have
+someone here who knows more about treating the bites than I do.
+Squaw!”</p>
+
+<p>An Indian woman who had been sitting on the grass before the chief’s
+tent, a medley pack of Indian baskets arranged before her, glanced up.</p>
+
+<p>“Snake! You know what to do,” went on Mr. Thurston hurriedly. “You
+know what to do——eh? Pay you well.”</p>
+
+<p>At the last three magic words the aged squaw rose and hobbled quickly
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Take boy him tent,” directed the Indian woman.</p>
+
+<p>“I can walk,” remarked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“No; they take you. Heap better,” commanded the woman.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly Mr. Thurston and Rutter took hold of Tom, raising him
+into their arms. Through the flap of his tent they bore him,
+depositing him on his cot. The Indian woman followed them inside.</p>
+
+<p>“Now you go out,” she ordered, with a sweep of her hand. “Send
+him cookman. Hot water—-heap boil.”</p>
+
+<p>Thus ordered, Jake Wren came on the run with a kettle of boiling
+water. The Indian squaw received it with a grunt, ordering that
+bowls and cups be also brought. When Wren came the second time
+he lingered curiously.</p>
+
+<p>“You go out; no see what do,” said the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>So Jake departed, the squaw tying the flap of the tent after he
+had gone. Then, from the bosom of her dress she drew out a few
+small packages of herbs. The contents of these she distributed
+in different bowels and cups.</p>
+
+<p>“I’d like to see what the old witch is doing, and how she’s doing
+it,” declared Rutter in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>“She’ll stop short if she catches you looking in on her,” replied
+the chief, with a smile. “For some reason these Indians are very
+jealous of their secrets in treating snakebites. They’re wizards,
+though, these same red-skinned savages.”</p>
+
+<p>“You believe, then, that she can pull Reade through?” asked Rutter
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“If she knows her business, and if there’s any such thing as saving
+the boy she’ll do it,” declared Mr. Thurston, as they reached
+the door of the chief’s tent. “Will you come inside, Rutter!
+You look badly broken up.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am, and I shall be, just as long as Reade is in any danger,”
+Rutter admitted. “Reade is a mighty fine boy and I’m fond of
+him. Besides, more than a little of our success in getting the
+road through on time depends on the boy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is Reade really so valuable, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“He goes over the course, Mr. Thurston, as rapidly as any man
+in our corps, and his work is very accurately done. Moreover,
+he never kicks. If you told him to work half the night, on top
+of a day’s work, he’d do it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then Reade, if he recovers, must be watched and rewarded for
+anything he does for us,” murmured Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t say, ‘if he recovers,’ chief,” begged Jack. “I hate to
+think of his not pulling through from this snakebite.”</p>
+
+<p>“What became of the reptile that did the trick?” asked Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“That crawler will never bite anything else,” muttered Rutter.
+“I got the thing with my riding quirt.”</p>
+
+<p>Not very long after Harry Hazelton reached camp, well in advance
+of the chainmen, for Harry, good school athlete that he was, had
+jog-trotted every step of the way in.</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s Tom?” Hazelton demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“Here,” called a voice from Reade’s tent.</p>
+
+<p>Hazelton turned in that direction, but Mr. Thurston looked out
+from the large tent, calling:</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t go there now, Hazelton. You wouldn’t be admitted. Come here.”</p>
+
+<p>Despite his long run, Harry’s face displayed pallor as he came
+breathlessly into Mr. Thurston’s field abode. In a few words,
+however, the lad was acquainted with the situation as far as it
+had developed.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime what was the squaw doing with Tom? It must be
+admitted that Reade hadn’t any too clear an idea. The gaunt old
+red woman poured hot water, small quantities at a time, into the
+bowls and cups in which she had distributed the herbs. Then she
+stirred vigorously, in the meantime muttering monotonously in
+her own language.</p>
+
+<p>“She isn’t relying on the herbs alone,” muttered Tom curiously
+to himself. “She’s working up some kind of incantation. I wonder
+what effect she expects an Indian song to have on snake poison?”</p>
+
+<p>Presently the squaw turned, bringing one of the cupfuls to the
+wounded boy.</p>
+
+<p>“Sit up,” she ordered. “Drink!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom nearly dropped it, it was so hot.</p>
+
+<p>“Drink!” repeated the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>“But it’s so hot it’ll burn my gullet out,” remonstrated Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“You know more I do?” demanded the squaw stolidly. “Drink!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom took a sip, and shuddered from the intense heat of the stuff.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! White man him heap papoose!” muttered the squaw, scornfully.
+“You want live, drink!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom took a longer swallow of the hot stuff. Whew, but it was
+bitter!</p>
+
+<p>“The bronze lady is trying to turn me inside out!” gasped the
+boy to himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Drink—-all down!” commanded the squaw with scarcely less scorn
+than before in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>This time Tom took a hard grip on himself and swallowed all the
+liquid. For a moment, he thought the nauseating stuff would kill him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, eat grass,” ordered the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>“Meaning eat these herbs,” demanded Tom, glancing up.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. Heap quick.”</p>
+
+<p>“To make a fellow eat these herbs after drinking the brew from
+them is what I call rubbing it in,” grimaced Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, this,” continued the squaw, calmly handing a second cup
+to Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s all right for _you_ to be calm,” thought Tom, as he took
+the cup from her. “All you have to do is to stand by and watch
+me. You don’t have to drink any of these fearful messes.”</p>
+
+<p>However, Tom brought all his will power into play, swallowing
+a second brew, compared with which the first had been delicious.</p>
+
+<p>“Eat this grass, too”? inquired Tom, gazing at the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>“I shall be very, very careful not to meet any more snakes,” he
+shuddered, after getting the second dose down.</p>
+
+<p>Now the squaw busied herself with spreading soaked herbs on a
+piece of cloth that she had torn from one of Tom’s white shirts’
+to which she had helped herself from his dunnage box.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s a dollar shirt, anyway, when an interesting young man’s
+life is at stake” mused Reade. “Ow—-ow—-ooch!”</p>
+
+<p>“You baby—-papoose?” inquired the squaw calmly. She had slapped
+on Tom’s leg, over the bite, a poultice that, to his excited mind,
+was four hundred degrees hotter than boiling water.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no,” grimaced Tom. “That’s fine and soothing. But it’s
+growing cool. Haven’t you something hotter?”</p>
+
+<p>Just five seconds later Reade regretted his rashness, for, snatching
+off the first poultice, the squaw slapped on a second that seemed,
+in some way, ten times more powerful—-and twenty times hotter.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s queer what an awful amount of heat a squaw can get out of
+a kettle of hot water, thought the suffering boy. I’ll wager
+some of the heat is due to the herbs themselves. O-o-o-o-ow! Ouch!”</p>
+
+<p>For now the third poultice, most powerful of all, was in place,
+and Mrs. Squaw was binding it on as though she intended it never
+to come off.</p>
+
+<p>Two minutes after that Tom Reade commenced to retch violently.
+With a memory of the messes that he had swallowed he didn’t wonder.
+The squaw now stepped outside, calling for coffee. This was
+brought. Tom was obliged to drink several cupfuls, after which
+he began to feel decidedly more comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, take nap,” advised the squaw, and quitted the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“The bronze lady seems to know what she’s doing,” thought Tom.
+“I guess I’ll take the whole of her course of treatment.” Thereupon
+he turned his face to the wall. Within sixty seconds he slept.</p>
+
+<p>“How’s Reade?” demanded Harry, rising eagerly as the squaw stepped
+inside the chief’s tent.</p>
+
+<p>“He sleep,” muttered the squaw.</p>
+
+<p>“He—-he—-isn’t dead!” choked Harry, turning deathly pale.</p>
+
+<p>“You think I make death medicine?” demanded the squaw scornfully.
+“You think me heap fool?”</p>
+
+<p>“The young man will be all right, squaw?” asked Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! Maybe,” grunted the red woman. “Yes, I think so. You
+know bimeby.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the Indian contempt for death,” explained the chief engineer,
+turning to Harry. “I imagine that Reade is doing all right, or
+she wouldn’t have left him.”</p>
+
+<p>However, Hazelton was not satisfied with that. He slipped out,
+crossed camp and stealthily peeped inside of the tent. Then
+Hazelton slipped back to Mr. Thurston to report.</p>
+
+<p>“If Tom doesn’t swallow some of those big snores of his, and choke
+to death, I think he’ll get well,” said Harry, with a laugh that
+testified to the great relief that had come to his feelings. With
+that all hands had to be content for the time being.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br><span class="small">’GENE BLACK, TROUBLE-MAKER</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>In the morning Tom Reade declared that he was all right. The
+old Indian squaw had pronounced him safe, and had gone on her way.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll stay in camp today, Reade,” announced Mr. Thurston, dropping
+into the mess tent.</p>
+
+<p>“With all the work there is ahead of us, sir?” cried Reade aghast.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s why you’ll stay,” nodded Mr Thurston. “Your life has
+been saved, but after the shock you had yesterday you’re not as
+strong as you may feel. One day of good rest in camp will fit
+you for what’s ahead of us in the days to come. The strain of
+tramping miles and working like a steam engine all day is not
+to be thought of for you today. Tomorrow you’ll go out with the
+rest.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom sighed. True, he did not feel up to the mark, and was eating
+a very light breakfast. Still he chafed at the thought of inaction
+for a whole day.</p>
+
+<p>“The chief wouldn’t order you to stay in,” remarked Blaisdell,
+after Mr. Thurston had gone, “unless he knew that to be the best
+thing for you.”</p>
+
+<p>So, after the engineers, their chainmen and rodmen had left camp
+Tom wandered about disconsolately. He tried to talk to the cook,
+but Jake and his helper were both rushed in getting the meal that
+was to be taken out over the trail by burro train.</p>
+
+<p>“Lonely, Reade?” called the chief from his tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” Tom nodded. “I wish I had something to do.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps I can find work for you in here. Come in.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom entered eagerly. Mr. Thurston was seated at the large table,
+a mass of maps and field notes before him.</p>
+
+<p>“How are you on drawing, Reade?” queried his chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Poor, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never had any training in that line?”</p>
+
+<p>“I can draw the lines of a map, sir, and get it pretty straight,
+as far as the mathematics of map-drawing goes,” Tom answered.
+“But another man has to go over my work and put in the fine touches
+of the artist. You know what I mean, sir; the fancy fixings of
+a map.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I know,” nodded Mr. Thurston. “I can sympathize with you, too,
+Reade, for, though I always longed to do artistic platting (map-work)
+I was always like yourself, and could do only the mathematical part of
+it. You can help me at that, however, if you are careful enough. Take a
+seat at that drawing table; and I’ll see what you can do.”</p>
+
+<p>First, Reade stepped to a box that held map paper. Taking out a sheet,
+he placed it on the surface of the drawing table, then stuck in
+thumb-tacks at each of the four corners.</p>
+
+<p>“All ready, sir,” he announced.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston stepped over with an engineer’s field note book.</p>
+
+<p>“See if these notes are all clear,” directed the chief engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir; I know what the notes call for,” Tom answered confidently.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’ll show you just what’s wanted Reade,” continued the chief.</p>
+
+<p>After some minutes of explanation Tom picked up the T-square,
+placing the top at the side of the drawing surface. Then against
+the limb of the “T” Tom laid the base of a right-angled triangle.
+Along this edge he drew his perpendicular north-and-south line
+in the upper left-hand corner. He crossed this with a shorter
+line at right angles, establishing his east-and-west line. Mr.
+Thurston, standing at the cub engineer is back, looked on closely.</p>
+
+<p>Tom now settled on his beginning point, and made the dot with
+his pencil. From that point he worked rapidly, making all his
+measurements and dotting his points. Then he began to draw in.
+The chief engineer went back to his table.</p>
+
+<p>After Tom had worked an hour the chief interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Reade, get up and let me sit down there for a little while.
+I want to go over your work.”</p>
+
+<p>For some minutes Mr. Thurston checked off the lad’s work.</p>
+
+<p>“You really know what you are doing, Reade,” he said at last.
+“Your line measurements are right, and your angles tally faultlessly,
+I’m glad I kept you back today. You can help me here even more
+than in the field. Tomorrow, however, I shall have to keep Rice
+back. He’s our ornamental draughtsman, and puts in the fine,
+flowery work on our maps. Here’s some of his work.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom gazed intently at the sheet that Mr. Thurston spread for his
+inspection.</p>
+
+<p>“Rice does it well,” remarked Reade thoughtfully. “You’ve one
+other man in the corps who can do the pretty draughting about as well.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is he?”</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton. Harry doesn’t do the mathematical part as easily as
+I do, but he has a fine talent for fancy drawing, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I’ll try Hazelton tonight,” decided Mr. Thurston aloud.
+“You may go on with your drawing now, Reade. Hello; someone
+is coming into camp.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston stepped over to the doorway in time to see a young
+man riding up on a pony.</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the chief engineer?” called the newcomer.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re looking at him,” replied Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>The young man, who appeared to be about twenty-eight years of
+age, rode his horse to a near-by tree, then dismounted gracefully
+and tied his mount.</p>
+
+<p>The young man was well-built, dark-haired and smooth-faced, with
+snapping black eyes. There was an easy, half-swaggering grace
+about him suggesting one who had seen much of free life in the
+open air. For one attired for riding in saddle over mountain
+trails the stranger was not a little of a dandy in appearance.
+His khaki trousers and leggings, despite his probably long ride,
+were spotless. His dark-blue flannel shirt showed no speck of
+dust; his black, flowing tie was perfection; his light-hued sombrero
+looked as though it had just left the store.</p>
+
+<p>“If you are Mr. Thurston, I have the honor to present a letter,”
+was the stranger’s greeting as he entered the large tent.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston glanced at the envelope, reading: “Mr. Eugene Black.”</p>
+
+<p>“Be seated, Mr. Black,” requested the chief, then opened the letter.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you’re a new engineer, sent out from the offices in New York,”
+continued the chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” smiled the newcomer.</p>
+
+<p>“An experienced engineer, the vice-president of the company informs
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Six years of experience,” smiled the newcomer, showing his white,
+handsome teeth.</p>
+
+<p>Tom glanced up just in time to see that smile. “Somehow, I don’t
+quite like the looks of Mr. Black,” Reade decided.</p>
+
+<p>“What is your especial line of work, Mr. Black?” Thurston continued.</p>
+
+<p>“Anything in usual field work, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“This letter states that you expect one hundred and twenty-five
+dollars a month.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then the letter is correct, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right, Mr. Black; we’ll put you at work and let you prove
+that you’re worth it,” smiled Mr. Thurston pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>“How soon shall I go to work, sir?” asked Black.</p>
+
+<p>“I expect my assistant, Mr. Blaisdell, here in about an hour.
+I’ll send you out with him when he returns to field.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, if you’re through with me at present, sir, I’ll step outside
+and be within call.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and his chief were again alone. Reade kept steadily on with
+his work, and no word was spoken for half an hour. Then there
+came a commotion in camp, for four drovers came in with two dozen
+horses that had been ordered for the use of the engineering party.</p>
+
+<p>“Step outside, Reade, and see the horses, if you care to do so,”
+suggested Mr. Thurston, reaching for his sombrero.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, sir; but the horses will keep, and I’m greatly interested
+in finishing my drawing so that I can take up more work.”</p>
+
+<p>“That young cub, Reade, is no idler.” thought the chief, as he
+stepped into the open.</p>
+
+<p>Tom kept steadily at work.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later, Thurston still being absent, Eugene Black strolled
+into the tent. He glanced at Tom’s drawing with some contempt,
+then inquired:</p>
+
+<p>“Drawing, boy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, not?” laughed Tom. “I’m only one of the stable boys, and,
+as you can see, I’m currying a horse.”</p>
+
+<p>“Stop that sort of nonsense with me, right at the start,” flashed
+Black angrily, striding closer. “I don’t allow boys to be fresh
+with me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the boy?” drawled Tom, turning slightly, for a better view
+of the stranger’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re one,” snapped Black.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you?” Tom asked curiously.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m an engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that is anything to be chesty about, then I’m an engineer also,”
+Reade replied, rising.</p>
+
+<p>“Sit down, boy!” commanded Black angrily.</p>
+
+<p>The trace of frown on Reade’s face disappeared. He smiled
+good-humoredly as he observed.</p>
+
+<p>“Black, I’m a bit uncertain about you.”</p>
+
+<p>“_Mister_ Black, boy!” warned the other, his dark eyes snapping.
+“Why are you uncertain about me?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m wondering,” purred Tom gently, “whether you are just _trying_
+to be offensive, or whether you don’t know any better than to talk
+and act the way you do?”</p>
+
+<p>“You young puppy, I’ll teach you something right now,” cried Black,
+stepping closer and raising a clenched fist.</p>
+
+<p>“Look out,” begged Tom. “You’ll upset my drawing table.”</p>
+
+<p>Eugene Black closed in, striking out. Reade who felt that the
+situation didn’t call for any fighting, retreated, still smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Whether by accident or design, Black, as he made a half turn to
+start after the cub engineer anew, brushed a corner of the unstable
+drawing table hard enough to tip it over. A bottle of drawing
+ink fell, too, splashing ugly black blotches over Tom’s carefully
+drawn outlines of a map.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, you’ve done it!” exclaimed Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t quite finished,” snapped the stranger, rushing after Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going to box your ears soundly, boy!”</p>
+
+<p>“Are you, indeed?” demanded Tom, halting. He was still smiling,
+but there was a stern look in his eyes. Tom no longer retreated,
+but stood awaiting Black’s assault.</p>
+
+<p>Blanks fist shot out straight, but Reade didn’t stop the blow.
+Instead, he ducked low. When he came up his arms enveloped Black’s
+legs in one of the swift football tackles that Tom had learned
+with the Gridley High School football team.</p>
+
+<p>“You annoy me,” drawled Tom, and hurled the fellow ten feet away.
+Black landed on his back with an angry roar, followed by cursing.</p>
+
+<p>“Profanity is always objectionable to a gentleman,” declared Tom
+dryly, running over ere the newcomer could regain his feet. Once
+more Reade bent and rose. As he did so, Eugene Black shot through
+the tent doorway, landing on the ground a dozen feet beyond.</p>
+
+<p>Tom stood in the doorway, smiling. Black leaped to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>“You puppy!” gasped Black, sending his right hand back to his
+hip pocket. Tom didn’t wait to see what he would bring out, but
+darted forward. This time he seized the stranger in a dead tackle,
+dropping him over on his back without throwing him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, roll over,” ordered Reade grimly. “I’m curious to see what
+you have in your pocket. Ah! So—-this is it! You’re another
+Peter Bad, are you?”</p>
+
+<p>Tom held in one hand a silver-plated revolver with ivory handle
+that he had snatched out of Black’s pocket.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder why it is,” mocked Tom, grinning, “that nine out of
+every ten dude tenderfeet from the east come west with one of
+these things.”</p>
+
+<p>Black charged the cub, intent on recapturing his pistol, but Reade
+shot out a foot, tripping him. Then Tom ran nimbly over to the
+cook tent. Here he halted, breaking the weapon at the breech
+and allowing the cartridges to drop into his hand. He transferred
+them to his pocket, then wheeled and picked up Jake’s kitchen
+hatchet.</p>
+
+<p>With a few swift strokes from the head of the hatchet Tom put
+that firearm on the retired list for good.</p>
+
+<p>“Give me my pistol, boy!” choked Black, running up.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly,” rejoined Reade, wheeling and politely offering the
+ruined firearm. “I don’t want it. I’ve no use for such things”</p>
+
+<p>Black took his weapon, gasped, then, seizing it by the barrel,
+leaped at Tom, intent on battering his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, what’s the trouble?” cried Mr. Thurston, appearing around
+the corner of the cook house and promptly seizing Black by the
+collar of his flannel shirt.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing much, sir,” laughed Tom. “Mr. Black has just been showing
+me how bad men behave out in this part of the country.”</p>
+
+<p>“This boy is a troublesome cub, Mr. Thurston,” declared Black
+hotly. “Do you see what he has done to my revolvers”</p>
+
+<p>“How did Reade come to have it?” inquired Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“He snatched it away from me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, is this true?” demanded the chief engineer, turning to
+the youth.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir; as far as the story goes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me the whole truth of this affair,” ordered Mr. Thurston
+sternly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom started to do so, modestly, but Black broke in angrily at
+points in the narrative.</p>
+
+<p>“The principal thing that I have against Mr. Black,” Tom said,
+“is that he spoiled all my drawing work of this morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; but how did I come to do it?” insisted the newcomer. “You
+pushed me against your drawing table.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom started with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>“My friend,” he remarked, “Baron Munchausen never had anything
+on you!”</p>
+
+<p>“Careful, Reade! Don’t pass the lie,” ordered the chief engineer
+sternly. “I shall look fully into this matter, but at present
+I’m inclined to believe that you’re more at fault than is Black.
+Return to the tent and start your drawing over again.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a smile again on Tom’s face as he turned back to make
+his spoiled work good.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston went back to his inspection of the ponies. Later,
+the chief engineer was able to pick up some details of the trouble
+from Jake Wren, who had seen Black reach for his revolver.</p>
+
+<p>“Understand two things, Mr. Black,” said the chief briskly. “In
+the first place, it is not expected that the engineers of this
+corps will find any real cause for fighting. Second, I will tolerate
+no pistol nonsense here.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he went back to Tom Reade and spoke to him more quietly.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, if Black doesn’t turn out to be a valuable man here he
+won’t last long. If he is a good man, then you will find it necessary,
+perhaps, to use a little tact in dealing with him. Did you notice
+what snapping black eyes the man has? Men with such black eyes
+are usually impulsive. Remember that.”</p>
+
+<p>“I never thought of that before, sir,” Tom admitted dryly. “I
+really didn’t know that people with black eyes are impulsive.
+This I do know, however, people who are too impulsive generally
+get black eyes!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br><span class="small">“DOCTORED” FIELD NOTES?</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>There was no more trouble—-immediately. When the other engineers
+heard of the row—-which news they obtained through Jake, not
+from Reade—-they soon made it plain to ’Gene Black that Tom Reade
+was a favorite in the corps. Black was therefore treated with
+a coldness that he strove hard to overcome.</p>
+
+<p>In the matter of being a capable civil engineer ’Gene Black speedily
+proved himself efficient. Assistant Chief Engineer Blaisdell
+soon reported at headquarters that the new member of the corps
+was an exceedingly valuable man. Black was therefore placed at
+the head of a leveling squad that obtained the field notes from
+which were to be estimated the cost of making excavations in several
+cuts that must be made ere the coming tracks could be laid.</p>
+
+<p>In the days that passed Tom and Harry saw little of the field
+work. They were kept at the chief’s tent. Hence Reade had but
+little to do with ’Gene Black, which may have been fortunate,
+as Tom still retained his first instinctive dislike for the black-eyed
+fellow.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>“Reade and Hazelton, you two young men are going to forge ahead
+rapidly, and you are sure to earn good salaries, if you don’t
+make the too common mistake of young engineers first starting
+out,” Mr. Thurston told the cubs one forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>“And what is that mistake, sir, if you please?” Tom queried.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t make the mistake of getting too large an idea of the value
+of your services,” replied the chief. “Just work hard all the
+time and be wholly unassuming.</p>
+
+<p>“I think we can follow that advice, sir,” Tom replied, with a
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>“If you can, you’ll get along rapidly. I have already written
+to our officers in New York, thanking them for having sent you
+two young men.”</p>
+
+<p>“Here’s the map I have just finished, sir,” said Harry, rising
+from his drawing table on which were arranged the various draughtsman’s
+inks and washes—-the latter being thin solutions of water colors
+with which some parts of the maps were colored.</p>
+
+<p>“Very handsomely done, Hazelton. Reade, what are you doing?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m at work on Black’s field notes of the leveling,” Tom answered.</p>
+
+<p>“I am very much pleased with Black’s work,” replied Mr. Thurston.
+“His notes show that we are going to get out of the excavating
+in the cuts at about one third of the trouble and expense that
+I had looked for.”</p>
+
+<p>“Black’s field notes certainly do look good, sir, for they show
+that you can get the work through on this division in much less
+time than you had supposed.”</p>
+
+<p>As he turned around to speak, Tom sat where he could easily see
+the colored field map that Harry had just turned in to the chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold on, there, Harry,” Tom objected.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve lined in a pretty high hill on Section Nineteen. You’ll
+have to cut that down a bit.”</p>
+
+<p>“The surveyor’s field notes call for that hill,” Hazelton retorted.</p>
+
+<p>“But, as it happens,” objected Tom, “I’m just working out the
+profile drawing of Section Nineteen from Black’s notes. See here——-”
+Tom rested a pencil point on a portion of the hill depicted on
+Hazelton’s map. “You’ve drawn that pretty steep. Now, as you’ll
+see by Black’s notes, the upgrade at that point is only a three
+per cent. grade.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! It’s all of an eight per cent. grade,” grunted Hazelton.
+“See, here are the surveyor’s field notes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Three per cent. grade,” insisted Tom, holding forward Black’s
+leveling notes.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a difference there, then, that must be reconciled,” broke
+in Mr. Thurston, rising, a look of annoyance on his face. “We
+can’t have any such disagreement as that between the field map
+and the profile sheet. Let us find out, at once, where the trouble
+lies.”</p>
+
+<p>Yet the more the three pondered over the matter the greater became
+the puzzle. The notes of the surveyor, Matt Rice, and of the
+leveler, ’Gene Black, were at utter variance.</p>
+
+<p>“We must get hold of these men as soon as they come in tonight,”
+exclaimed Mr. Thurston, much disturbed. “We must find out just
+which one is at fault.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rice is a very reliable man, sir,” spoke up Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; but Blaisdell reports that Black thoroughly understands
+his work, too,” grumbled the chief. “We must settle this tonight.”</p>
+
+<p>“May I make a suggestion, sir?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly. Go ahead.”</p>
+
+<p>“There is no use, sir, in my going ahead with this profile drawing,
+if there’s a chance that the sights turned in by Black are wrong.
+Until we know, my time at this drawing board may all be wasted.
+Trotter, one of the rodmen, is in camp today. I might take him,
+and a level along, and go over the foresights and backsights myself.
+All of the stakes will be in place. In two hours I ought to
+have a very good set of leveling notes. Then I can bring them
+back and compare them with Black’s sights.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can you run a level well?” inquired Mr. Thurston.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course I can, sir. It’s simple enough work, and I’ve done
+a good bit of it in the east.”</p>
+
+<p>“Go along, then, and see if you can throw any light on this,”
+sighed the disturbed chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade really ought to have two rodmen,” broke in Harry eagerly.
+“May I go along, sir, to serve as the other rodman?”</p>
+
+<p>“Run along,” assented Mr. Thurston. “Remember, boys, I can’t
+go any further until this tangle is settled. Come back as speedily
+as you can.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Harry snatched up their sombreros, hurrying forth. Trotter
+was found readily, and was ordered to saddle three ponies. Tom
+busied himself in picking out the best leveling instrument in
+camp, while Hazelton secured the rods and a chain. Then the party
+set forth in Indian file, Tom riding in advance.</p>
+
+<p>A trot of half an hour brought them to Section Nineteen. Here
+Tom speedily adjusted his instrument, taking up his post over
+the first stake at the bottom of the hill.</p>
+
+<p>Leveling is not difficult work, though it calls for some judgment
+and a good deal of care. For instance, when Tom set his telescope
+exactly level and took a reading of the rod at the second stake,
+which Harry held, he read the height as eight feet and four inches.
+Then he trudged forward, carrying his instrument, while Trotter
+held his rod exactly perpendicular over the first stake. From
+the second stake Tom sighted back through his telescope, reading
+two feet three inches. The difference between these two readings
+was six feet and one inch, showing that, for the distance between
+first and second stakes the rise in the hillside was six feet
+one inch. Thereupon Reade turned and sighted, from stake number
+two to stake number three, noting in his book the reading he secured
+from the rod at number three. Once at number three he turned
+his telescope backward, taking a reading from Trotter’s rod at
+number two. Ten stakes were thus covered, and not only were the
+foresights and backsights read and recorded, but the distance
+between each pair of stakes was measured with the chain and the
+distances entered on the record.</p>
+
+<p>At stake number ten Tom halted.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry,” he directed, “you take Black’s leveling notes and hold
+them while I read my own notes. Stop me every time that you note
+a difference between the two records.”</p>
+
+<p>After that Harry steadily stopped his chum at every reading.
+By the time that they had finished the comparisons Hazelton’s
+face looked blank from sheer astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, every single one of Blacks foresights and backsights is
+wrong!” gasped Harry. “And yet Mr. Blaisdell reported that ’Gene
+Black is such a fine engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom turned to make sure that Trotter was resting out of hearing
+before he replied:</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, Black isn’t such a fool as to bring in an absolutely wrong
+record of sights, and yet do it innocently. If he didn’t do it
+unintentionally, then he must have tangled the record purposely.”</p>
+
+<p>“But why should he do it purposely?” Harry insisted. “He would
+know that, sooner or later, his blunders or lies would be discovered,
+and that he would be discharged. Now, Black really wants to hold
+his job with this outfit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Does he?” asked Tom bluntly.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know,” Reade confessed. “I never heard of any such bungle
+as this before by an engineer. Why, Harry, this hillside averages
+an eight and a third grade, yet Black’s field notes show it to
+be only a three per cent. grade. Hang it, the fellow must have
+played the trick purposely!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yet why?” pressed Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll admit that I can’t understand. Unless, well—-unless——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Say it!”</p>
+
+<p>“Unless Black joined this outfit with the express purpose of
+queering all the work of the entire corps as he could easily
+do. Harry, do you think that Black could possibly be serving
+with this outfit as the paid tool of the rival road, the W.C.
+&amp; A.? Can he be the enemy’s spy within our lines—-sent to prevent
+our finishing the road on time?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br><span class="small">THINGS BEGIN TO GO DOWN HILL</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“I suppose I’m thick,” Harry murmured. “How would Black, by turning
+in some wrong backsights and foresights, expect to delay the building
+of the road, even if he wanted to do it?”</p>
+
+<p>“How?” repeated Tom Reade, showing an amount of heat and excitement
+that he rarely displayed. “Why, Harry, this same old Section
+Nineteen is one of the hard spots on the road. A lot of excavating
+has to be done before the tracks can be laid here. It’s not a
+mere matter of scooping up dirt and removing it, either. A large
+amount of solid rock has to be blasted out here before the roadbed
+can be laid.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know it,” Harry nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, at the present moment our chief, Mr. Thurston, is
+preparing the estimates for the work that must be done. On his
+estimates will be based the strength of the laboring gangs that
+must come forward to do the work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, suppose that Mr. Thurston has been misled into making a
+certain estimate as to the number of thousand cubic yards of stuff
+that must be taken out of the outs that are to be made. After
+he gets his laborers here, and at work, he finds that he has at
+least three times as much rock and dirt to get out——-”</p>
+
+<p>“I see,” cried Hazelton. “Before the chief could get men and
+wagons, and make all necessary changes in the work, the time would
+have slipped by so far that the finishing of the road would be
+blocked.”</p>
+
+<p>“And the S.B. &amp; L. would lose its charter,” finished Tom grimly.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s mighty lucky that we came out here today, then,” exclaimed
+Hazelton, now fully alive to the danger that menaced their employers.
+“Come, we must hustle back to camp and show Mr. Thurston how
+he has been imposed on. There can’t be a doubt that ’Gene Black
+has been deliberately crooked.”</p>
+
+<p>“Go slowly,” advised Tom. “Don’t be in a rush to call any other
+man a crook. Mr. Thurston can hear our report. Then he can look
+into it himself and form his own opinion. That’s as far as we
+have any right to go in the matter.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thurston is at fault in not having come out here himself,” Harry
+continued. “The chief engineer in charge of a job should know
+every foot of the way.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thurston, from the nature of his own work, is obliged to leave
+much of the detail to his assistant, Mr. Blaisdell,” Tom explained.</p>
+
+<p>“Then why doesn’t Blaisdell look out that no such treacherous
+work is done by any member of the engineer corps?” flared Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“’Gene Black is plainly a very competent man,” Reade argued.
+“The work has had to be rushed of late, and, on so simple a matter
+as leveling, I don’t suppose Blaisdell has thought it at all necessary
+to dig into Black’s field notes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope Black is fired out of this outfit, neck and crop!” finished
+Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s something with which we have nothing to do,” Reade retorted.
+“Harry, we’ll confine ourselves to doing our work well and reporting
+our results. Mr. Thurston is intelligent enough to form all his
+own conclusions when he has our report. Come, it’s high time
+for us to be putting the ponies to real speed on the trail back.”</p>
+
+<p>Not long afterwards the young engineers rode into the engineer
+camp. Harry dismounted, seating himself on the ground, while
+Tom hurried toward the chief’s big tent.</p>
+
+<p>It was Blaisdell who sat in the chief’s chair when Tom entered.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, hello, Reade,” was the assistant’s pleasant greeting.</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the chief?”</p>
+
+<p>“Gone back to the track builders. You know, they’re within fourteen
+miles of us now.”</p>
+
+<p>“When will Mr. Thurston be back?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know,” Blaisdell answered. “In the meantime, Reade, you
+know, I’m acting chief here.”</p>
+
+<p>“I beg your pardon,” Tom murmured hastily.</p>
+
+<p>“The chief told me, just before leaving, that you thought some of
+Black’s sights on Section Nineteen are wrong,” Blaisdell pursued.</p>
+
+<p>“They’re all wrong,” Reade rejoined quietly.</p>
+
+<p>“_All_?” echoed Blaisdell, opening his eyes very wide.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir; everyone of them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Come, come, Reade!” remonstrated the acting chief. “Don’t try
+to amuse yourself with me. All of the sights can’t be wrong.”</p>
+
+<p>“But they are, sir. Hazelton and I have been over them most carefully
+in the field. Here are _our_ notes, sir. Look them over and
+you’ll find that Section Nineteen calls for three or four times
+as much excavating as Black’s notes show.”</p>
+
+<p>“This is strange!” mused Blaisdell, after comparing the two sets
+of notes. “I can’t credit it. Reade, you and Hazelton are very
+young—-mere cubs, in fact. Are you sure that you know all you
+owlet to know about leveling?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Blaisdell, I’ll answer you by saying, sir, that though Hazelton
+and I are nothing but cubs, we have the success of this railroad
+building game at heart. We’re deeply in earnest. We’ll work
+ourselves to our very bones in order to see this road get through
+in time. I don’t ask you, sir, to take our word about these sights,
+but we both beg you, sir, to go out with a gang of men and go
+over some of the work yourself. Keep on surveying, sir, until
+you’re satisfied that Black is wrong and that Hazelton and I are
+right. You know what it would mean, sir, if we’re right and you
+don’t find it out in time. Then you simply couldn’t get the cut
+through Section Nineteen in time and the S.B. &amp; L. would lose
+its charter.”</p>
+
+<p>“By Jove, you’re right,” muttered Blaisdell uneasily, as he slowly
+stood up. “Reade, I’m going to take men and go out, carrying
+your notes and Black’s. Let me warn you, however, that if I find
+that Black is right and you’re wrong, then it will give you two
+cubs such a black eye that the chief will run you out of camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“If we had made any such gigantic blunder as that,” returned Tom
+firmly, “then we’d deserve to be run out. We wouldn’t have the
+nerve to put in another night in camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hey, you, don’t unsaddle those ponies. Hold yourselves ready
+to go out,” called Blaisdell from the doorway of the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Will you give us our orders on drawing before you go, sir?” asked
+Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” smiled Blaisdell. “If you’ve made a blunder out on Nineteen,
+then you’re not to be trusted with drawing. Wait until I return.
+Take it easy until then.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very good.”</p>
+
+<p>“And—-Reade!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Neither you nor Hazelton are to let a word cross your lips regarding
+the disagreement over Section Nineteen.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll never have any trouble, sir, over our talking when we ought
+not to do it,” promised Reade.</p>
+
+<p>Two minutes later the assistant engineer rode out with a pair of
+rodmen whom he picked up on the way to Nineteen.</p>
+
+<p>“What happened?” asked Harry, coming into the big tent.</p>
+
+<p>Tom told him all that had taken place, adding the caution that
+nothing was to be said about the matter for the present.</p>
+
+<p>“Whew! I wish Mr. Blaisdell had let me go along,” murmured Hazelton.
+“I’d like to have seen his face when he finds out!”</p>
+
+<p>Hearing footsteps approaching outside, Reade signaled for silence.
+Then the flap of the tent was pulled back and Bad Pete glanced in.</p>
+
+<p>“Howdy, pardners?” was the greeting from the bad man, that caused
+Tom Reade almost to fall from his campstool.</p>
+
+<p>“How are you, Peter?” returned Tom. “This is, indeed, a pleasure.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the boss?” continued Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“If you mean Mr. Thurston, he’s away.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s Blaisdell, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“He hit the trail, just a few minutes ago,” Tom responded.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I suppose you have no objections if I sit in here a while?”</p>
+
+<p>“Peter,” replied Tom solemnly, “you’ll be conferring a great honor
+on us.”</p>
+
+<p>The bad man’s present mood was so amiable that Harry did not deem
+it desertion to go outside. Bad Pete had his cartridge belt restocked
+with sure-enough cartridges, and his revolver swung as jauntily
+in its holster as ever. Pete seemed to have no idea, however, of
+trying to terrify anyone with his hardware.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve been away?” suggested Tom, by way of making conversation,
+after an awkward silence had endured for nearly two minutes.</p>
+
+<p>“Yep,” admitted the bad one. “Pardner, it seems like home to
+get back. Do you know, Reade, I’ve taken a big liking to you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Peter,” protested Tom, “if you don’t look out you’ll make me
+the vainest cub on earth.”</p>
+
+<p>“I mean it,” asserted Pete. “Pardner, I’ve a notion me and you
+are likely to become big friends.”</p>
+
+<p>“I never dared to hope for so much,” breathed Tom, keeping back
+a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“’Cause,” continued Bad Pete, “I reckon you’re one of the kind
+that never goes back on a real pardner.”</p>
+
+<p>“I should hope not,” Tom assured him.</p>
+
+<p>“Have a cigar?” urged Pete, doffing his sombrero and taking out
+a big, black weed that he tendered the cub.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with it?” asked Tom curiously.</p>
+
+<p>For just a second Bad Pete’s eyes flashed. Then he choked back
+all signs of anger as he drawled:</p>
+
+<p>“The only matter with this cigar, pardner, is that it’s a gen-u-wine
+Havana cigar.”</p>
+
+<p>“I couldn’t tell it from a genuine Baltimore,” asserted Tom.
+“But I suppose that is because I never smoked.”</p>
+
+<p>“You never smoked? Pardner, you’ve got a lot to learn,” replied
+Bad Pete, as he put the cigar back in his hat and replaced the
+latter on his head. “And, while we’re talking about such matters,
+pardner, you might just hand me a twenty for a few days.”</p>
+
+<p>“Twenty dollars?” returned Tom. “Peter, until payday gets around
+I won’t have twenty cents.”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete gazed at the cub keenly.</p>
+
+<p>“Fact!” Tom assured him.</p>
+
+<p>“Huh!” grunted Pete, rising. “I’ve been wasting my time on a pauper!”</p>
+
+<p>Saying which, he stalked out.</p>
+
+<p>Tom discreetly repressed his desire to laugh. Hazelton glided
+into the tent, grinning.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, be careful not to string Bad Pete so hard, or, one of these
+days, you’ll get him so mad that he won’t be able to resist drilling
+you through with lead.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s go over to the cook tent and either beg or steal something
+to eat,” proposed Reade.</p>
+
+<p>It was two hours later when a rodman rode hurriedly into camp.</p>
+
+<p>“Hey, you cubs,” he called, “come and help me get Mr. Blaisdell’s
+bed ready for him. He’s coming back sick.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sick?” demanded Reade, thunderstruck. “Why, he looked healthy
+enough when he went out of camp a little while ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’s sick enough, now,” retorted the rodman.</p>
+
+<p>“What ails Mr. Blaisdell?” asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s mountain fever, I reckon,” rejoined the rodman. “Blaisdell
+must have been off color for days, and didn’t really know it.”</p>
+
+<p>All three worked rapidly getting everything in readiness for the
+coming of the assistant engineer. Then Mr. Blaisdell was brought
+in, on a stretcher rigged between two ponies. The acting chief
+is face was violently flushed, his eyes seemed bright as diamonds.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” said the acting chief thickly, as they lifted him from
+the litter to his cot, “if I’m not better by morning you’ll have
+to get word to the chief.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” assented Reade, placing a hand on Blaisdell’s forehead.
+It felt hot and feverish. “May I ask, sir, if you verified any
+of the sights on Nineteen?”</p>
+
+<p>“I—-I took some of ’em,” replied the acting chief hesitatingly.
+“Reade, I’m not sure that I remember aright, but I think—-I
+think—-you and Hazelton were correct about that. I—-wish I
+could—-remember.”</p>
+
+<p>Bill Blaisdell closed his eyes, and his voice trailed off into
+murmurs that none around him could understand. Even Reade, with
+his very slight experience in such matters, realized that the
+acting chief was a very sick man.</p>
+
+<p>“You cubs better clear out of here now,” suggested one of the
+rodmen. “I know better how to take care of men with mountain fever.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you do know more about nursing than I do, Carter,” replied
+Tom very quietly. “In the future, however, don’t forget that,
+though I may be a cub, I am an engineer, and you are a rodman.
+When you speak to me address me as Mr. Reade. Come, men, all
+out of here but the nurse.”</p>
+
+<p>Once in the open Tom turned to Harry with eyes ablaze.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, could anything be tougher? The chief away, the acting
+chief down with fever and on the verge of delirium—-and a crooked
+engineer in our crowd who’s doing his best to sell out the S.B.
+&amp; L.—-bag, baggage and charter!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br><span class="small">THE CHIEF TOTTERS FROM COMMAND</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>It was not like Tom Reade to waste time in wondering what to do.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry,” he continued, once more turning upon his chum, “I want
+you to get a pony saddled as fast as you can. You know that the
+telegraph wire is being brought along as fast as it can be done.
+This morning I heard Rutter say that it was hardly five miles
+back of us on the trail. Get into saddle, wire the chief at the
+construction camp, and bring back his orders as fast as you can
+ride.”</p>
+
+<p>Hazelton replied only with a nod, then broke into a sprint for
+the spot where the saddle animals were tethered. Two minutes
+later Harry, though not a crack horseman, left camp at a gallop.</p>
+
+<p>In Blaisdell’s tent matters dragged along. Ice was needed, but
+none was to be had. Cloths were wrung out in spring water and
+applied to the sick man’s head. Within half an hour Tom received
+word that the acting chief was “out of his head.”</p>
+
+<p>Later on Hazelton galloped back into camp bearing this despatch:</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, Engineer Corps.
+Take charge of camp until Rutter returns. Then turn over charge
+to him. Rush for the nearest physician; engage him to remain
+at camp and look after Blaisdell. I return tonight.
+(Signed) Thurston, Chief Engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Men,” called Tom striding over to the little party of rodmen,
+“tell me where the nearest physician is to be found.”</p>
+
+<p>“Doe Jitney, at Bear’s Cave,” replied one of the men.</p>
+
+<p>“How far is that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Fourteen miles, by the trail.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get on to a pony, then, and go after Dr. Gitney. Bring him here
+and tell him we’ll want him here for the present. Tell the doctor
+to bring all the medicines he’ll need, and both of you ride fast.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not going on your orders,” retorted the man sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, you are,” Tom informed him promptly. “I’m in charge, for
+the present, and acting under Mr. Thurston’s orders. If you don’t
+go, you won’t eat any more in this camp, or draw any more pay
+here. It’s work or jump for you—-and discharge if you lose or
+waste any time on the way. Mr. Blaisdell’s life is at stake.
+Rustle!”</p>
+
+<p>The man so ordered scowled, but he rose, went over and saddled
+a pony and rode out of camp.</p>
+
+<p>“That part is attended to,” sighed Tom. “Hang it, I wish we could
+get hold of some ice. I don’t know much, but I do know that ice
+is needed in high fevers. I wonder if anyone here knows where
+ice can be had? By Jove, there’s Peter! He knows more about
+this country than anyone else around here.”</p>
+
+<p>It was now within an hour of the time when the engineer parties
+might be expected hack into camp. Reade, however, was not of
+the sort to lose an hour needlessly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom had just caught sight of Bad Pete as the latter stepped through
+a little gully an eighth of a mile below the trail and vanished
+into some green brush.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll run after him,” Tom decided. “Pete wants a little money,
+and this will be a chance for him to earn it—-if he can find
+some man to drive a load of ice to camp.”</p>
+
+<p>Being a trained runner, Tom did not consume much time in nearing
+the spot where he had last seen Bad Pete. The lad put two fingers
+up to his mouth, intending to whistle, when he heard a twig snap
+behind him. Tom turned quickly, then, warned by some instinct,
+stepped noiselessly behind high brush. The newcomer was ’Gene
+Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Pete!” called Black softly.</p>
+
+<p>“Oy!” answered a voice some distance away.</p>
+
+<p>“That you, Pete?” called the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“Yep.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then close in here. I have doings for you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade should have stepped out into sight. He was neither
+spy nor eavesdropper. For once, something within urged him to
+keep out of sight and silent.</p>
+
+<p>“Where be you, pardner?” called Pete’s voice, nearer at hand now.</p>
+
+<p>“Right here, Pete,” called Black.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want, pardner?” demanded the bad man, coming through
+the brush.</p>
+
+<p>“Lend me a couple of hundred dollars, Pete,” laughed ’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you call me here for any such fool talk as that?” scowled Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” Black admitted. “Pete, I don’t believe you have two hundred
+dollars. But you’d like to have. Now, wouldn’t you!”</p>
+
+<p>“Two hundred silver bricks,” retorted Bad Pete, his eyes gleaming,
+“is the price of shooting up a whole town. Pardner, just get me an
+extra box of cartridges and lead me to that town! But have you got
+the money?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” laughed Black, holding up a roll of greenbacks. “This
+and more, too!”</p>
+
+<p>Bad Pete surveyed the money hungrily.</p>
+
+<p>“Some men who know me,” he muttered thickly, “would be afraid
+to show me a whole bankful of money when there was no one else
+looking.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not afraid of you, Pete,” replied Black quietly. “You might
+shoot me, if you felt you could get away with it. Do you notice
+that my left hand is in my pocket! I’m a left-handed shooter,
+you see.”</p>
+
+<p>Pete glanced covertly at that bulging left trousers’ pocket of
+the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t have to do anything like that to get the money, Pete.
+Save your cartridges for other people. There, I’ve let go of
+my gun. Come close and listen to what I have to say—-but only
+in your ear.”</p>
+
+<p>There followed some moments of whisperings Try as he would, Reade
+could not make out a word of what was being said until at last
+Bad Pete muttered audibly, in a low, hoarse voice:</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not doing that on your own account, Black?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Pete; I’m not.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you must really be working for the road that wants to steal
+the charter away—-the W.C. &amp; A.?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps so, Pete. You don’t need to know that. All you have
+to know is what I want done. I’m a business man, Pete, and money
+is the soul of business. Here!”</p>
+
+<p>Black peeled some banknotes from his roll.</p>
+
+<p>“Ten twenties, Pete. That makes the two hundred I was talking
+to you about. Understand, man, that isn’t your pay. That’s simply
+your expense money, for you to spend while you’re hanging about.
+Stick to me, do things just as I want them done, and your pay
+will run several times as high as your expense money.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for this sort o’ thing,
+pardner?” Pete inquired huskily.</p>
+
+<p>“No; of course not,” rejoined ’Gene Black rather impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>“All my life,” returned Bad Pete solemnly. “Pardner, I’ll sell
+myself to you for the money you’ve been talking about.”</p>
+
+<p>“Come along, then. We’re too near the camp. I want to talk with
+you where we’re not so likely to be interfered with by people who
+have too much curiosity.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that means me,” quoth Tom Reade inwardly, “the shoe fits to
+a nicety.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom followed the pair for a little way, with a stealth that was
+born in him for the present need. Then the plotters stepped into
+a rocky, open gully, where the cub engineer could not have followed
+without being seen.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, dear! I never wanted to follow anyone as much in my life!”
+groaned Reade in his disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing to do but to go back. Then, too, with a guilty
+start, Tom remembered the great need of ice for poor, fever-tossed,
+big-hearted Bill Blaisdell, who had been so kind to the two cubs
+from the hour of their arrival in the field camp.</p>
+
+<p>Just as he stepped into the camp area Tom espied Jack Rutter,
+who also saw him and came quickly forward.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Reade,” said Rutter, in
+a tone that was close to carrying reproach with it.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve been absent on real business, Rutter,” Tom answered, with
+a flush, nevertheless. “Mr. Blaisdell must have ice a lot of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Great Scott! Where shall we find it in these mountains in midsummer?”
+Rutter demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve got to have it, haven’t we?” Tom urged. “It will be the
+first thing that the doctor will call for.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then he should bring it with him,” returned Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Would you want the doctor to be hampered with a ton or so of
+ice!” asked Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Would we need that much?” Rutter seemed hopelessly ignorant in
+such matters.</p>
+
+<p>“I imagine we’d want a lot of it,” Tom answered. “By the way,
+Mr. Rutter——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Well?” Jack inquired.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was on the point of giving a hint of what he had heard in
+the gully during the meeting between Black and Bad Pete. Then,
+on second thought, the cub engineer decided to hold that news
+for the ear of Mr. Thurston alone.</p>
+
+<p>“What were you going to say?” pressed Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“Probably Hazelton has told you,” Tom continued, “that you’re
+in charge here until Mr. Thurston arrives.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; and I’m mighty glad that the chief will be here before daylight
+tomorrow,” returned Jack. “I may be a fair sort of engineer, but I’m
+not cut out for a chief engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>Later, one of the rodmen was sent to guide Harry to the nearest
+small town, twenty-eight miles away, for ice. If they succeeded
+in obtaining it they might be back by dark of the following day.</p>
+
+<p>Supper in camp was a gloomy meal. No one felt light-hearted.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Rutter,” asked Tom, approaching the temporary chief, soon
+after the evening meal, “what do you want Hazelton and myself
+to do this evening?”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t ask me,” returned Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+“What have you been doing? Drawing?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why don’t you go on with it?”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re at a point where we need orders, for we’ve had to lay down
+one part of the work while waiting for further instructions.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t help you any, then,” replied Rutter. “Sorry, but before
+I could give any orders I’d need a few myself.”</p>
+
+<p>At eleven o’clock that night Dr. Gitney arrived, with saddle-bags
+full of medicines and other necessaries. He saw Blaisdell, and
+pronounced the assistant engineer a very sick man.</p>
+
+<p>Shortly after midnight Mr. Thurston rode into camp. He tottered
+from saddle and reeled until Tom, on the lookout for him, ran
+forward and supported the chief engineer to his tent.</p>
+
+<p>Then Dr. Gitney was sent for and came.</p>
+
+<p>“Your chief has mountain fever, too,” said the medical attendant
+to Tom, after stepping outside the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“How long will it take them to get well?” asked Wade anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Weeks! Hard to say,” replied the physician vaguely.</p>
+
+<p>“Weeks!” groaned Tom Reade. “And the camp now in charge of Jack
+Rutter, who’s a fine workman but no leader! Doc Gitney doesn’t
+know it, but he has sentenced the S.B. &amp; L. railroad to death!”</p>
+
+<p>It was a trying situation. The cub engineer felt it keenly, for
+he had set his heart on seeing the S.B. &amp; L. win out over its rival.</p>
+
+<p>Then, too, all in a flash, the memory of ’Gene Black’s treachery
+to his employers came back to the mind of Tom Reade.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br><span class="small">FROM CUB TO ACTING CHIEF</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Tom didn’t sleep that night. He sat by, silently, in the big
+tent, nursing the patient as Dr. Gitney directed.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning, at five, Matt Rice came. Tom gladly surrendered
+the post to him and took a scant hour of deep slumber on the bare
+ground outside.</p>
+
+<p>“Wake up, Reade,” ordered Rutter, at last shaking the cub and
+hauling him to his feet. “This is no place to sleep. Go to your
+tent and stretch out full length on your cot.”</p>
+
+<p>“On my cot?” demanded Tom, rubbing his eyes fiercely. “You can’t
+spare me from the day’s work?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe there will be any day’s work,” Rutter answered.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re in charge, man! You must put us to work,” Tom insisted.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know just what ought to be done,” complained Rutter.
+“I shall have to wait for orders.”</p>
+
+<p>“Orders?” repeated Tom, in almost breathless scorn. “From whom
+can you get orders?”</p>
+
+<p>“Howe is Thurston’s assistant at the lower camp,” Rutter rejoined.
+“He’ll have to come over here and take real charge. I’m going
+to send a messenger to the telegraph station and wire Mr. Howe
+to come here at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“See here, Rutter,” blazed Tom insistently, “Mr Howe is in charge of
+the construction forces. He’s laying the bed and the tracks. He
+can’t be spared from the construction work for even a day, or the
+road will fail to get through, no matter what we do here. Man,
+you’ve simply got to be up and doing! Make some mistakes, if you
+have to, but don’t lie down and kill the S.B. &amp; L. with inaction.”</p>
+
+<p>“Cub,” laughed Rutter good-humoredly, “you speak as if this were
+a big personal matter with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, isn’t it, thought” retorted Tom Reade with spirit. “My whole
+heart is centered on seeing the S.B. &amp; L. win out within the time
+granted by its charter. Rutter, if you don’t take hold with a
+rush and make a live, galloping start with your new responsibilities,
+I’m afraid I’ll go wild and assault you violently!”</p>
+
+<p>“Ha, ha, ha!” Jack laughed loudly.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, stop that cackling,” ordered Reade in the same low voice
+that he had been using. “Let’s get away from the chief’s tent.
+We’ll disturb him with our noise.”</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Gitney, entering the big tent five minutes later, found Mr.
+Thurston very much awake, for he had heard the low-voiced conversation
+outside the tent. Mr. Thurston was not quite as ill as was Blaisdell,
+and had not as yet reached the stage of delirium.</p>
+
+<p>“Doctor, I want you to summon the engineer corps here,” begged
+the patient.</p>
+
+<p>“When you’re better,” replied the doctor, with a hand on the sick
+man’s pulse.</p>
+
+<p>“Doc, you’d better let me have my way,” insisted Mr. Thurston
+in a weak voice. “If you don’t, you’ll make me five times more
+ill than I am at present.”</p>
+
+<p>Watching the fever glow in the man’s face deepen, and feeling
+the pulse go up several beats per minute, Dr. Gitney replied:</p>
+
+<p>“There, there, Thurston. Be good, and I’ll let you have three
+minutes with your engineers.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all I ask,” murmured the sick man eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Gitney went outside and rounded them up. All were present
+except ’Gene Black, who, according to Matt Rice, had taken a little
+walk outside of camp.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you’ll soon be better, sir,” began Rutter, as the engineers
+gathered at the cot of their stricken chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t say anything unnecessary, and don’t waste my time,” begged
+Mr. Thurston. “Rutter, do you feel equal to running this field
+corps until either Blaisdell or I can take charge again?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I don’t chief,” replied Jack. “I’ve sent a wire to Howe, urging
+him to come here and take charge.”</p>
+
+<p>“Howe can’t come,” replied the chief. “If he does, the construction
+work will go to pieces. This corps will have to be led by someone
+now present.”</p>
+
+<p>Morris and Rice gazed eagerly at their chief. Butter showed his
+relief at being allowed to hack out from full control.</p>
+
+<p>As for Timothy Thurston, he let his gaze wander from face to face.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade!” he almost whispered.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir!” answered Tom, stepping gently forward. “What can
+I do for you, sir?”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” came in another whisper, “can you—-have you the courage
+to take the post of acting chief?”</p>
+
+<p>Several gasps of astonishment broke on the air, but the greatest
+gasp of all came from Reade himself.</p>
+
+<p>“I think you need a little sleep now, sir,” urged Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not out of my head,” smiled Timothy Thurston wanly. “Doc
+Gitney will tell you that. Come—-for I’m growing very tired.
+Can you swing this outfit and push the S.B. &amp; L. through within
+charter time?”</p>
+
+<p>“I—-I—-hardly know what to say,” stammered Tom, who felt dizzy
+from the sudden rush of blood to his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Have you the courage to try?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir—-_I have_!” came, without further hesitation from Tom
+Reade. “I believe I’ll succeed, at that, for I’ll stake health,
+and even life, on winning out!”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s what I like to hear,” breathed Mr. Thurston, an added flush
+coming to his own face.</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen, it’s time to leave,” warned Dr. Gitney, watching his
+patient.</p>
+
+<p>“One moment more, Doc,” insisted the chief engineer feebly.
+“Gentlemen, you’ve heard what has just been said. Will everyone of
+you pledge himself on his honor to drop all feeling that might
+interfere? Will you all stand loyally by Reade, take his orders
+and help boost him and all the rest of us through to victory in this
+big game?”</p>
+
+<p>“I will!” spoke Jack Rutter earnestly and with a deep sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p>The others added their promises.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, you will take full charge here,” continued Timothy Thurston.
+“Notify Mr. Howe, too, at once. You and he will not need to
+conflict with each other in any way. Also notify the president
+of the road, at the New York offices. Wire him at once. Now—-thank
+you all, gentlemen. I believe I shall have to stop and go to sleep.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get out, all of you,” came firmly from bearded, middle-aged Dr.
+Gitney. “You fellows now have your acting chief to look to, and
+you don’t need to bother a sick man any more.”</p>
+
+<p>When Tom Reade stepped outside, on the heels of the others, he
+certainly didn’t feel as though treading on air. Instead, he
+wondered if he were going to reel and totter, so dizzy did he
+feel over the sudden realization of the responsibilities he had
+taken upon himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us our orders, chief,” begged Matt Rice, with a grin, when Tom
+joined the others over by the mess tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait a few moments,” urged Reade. “I don’t really know whether
+I am chief or a joke.”</p>
+
+<p>“Great Scott! After lecturing me the way you did, you are not going
+to get cold feet, are you?” gasped Jack Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll know what I mean before long,” Tom murmured. “I signaled
+to Dr. Gitney to follow me as soon as he could.”</p>
+
+<p>“How does it seem to know that you have only to beckon and that men
+must follow?” laughed Joe Grant. It is doubtful whether Tom, gazing
+at the chief’s big tent, even heard.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Dr. Gitney stepped outside and came toward them.</p>
+
+<p>“Doctor,” began Tom, “will you give me your word of honor that
+Mr. Thurston is in his right mind?”</p>
+
+<p>“He certainly impresses me as being so,” the physician replied.</p>
+
+<p>“You fully believe that he knew just what he was doing?” Tom insisted.</p>
+
+<p>“I do, Reade. But why should you care? You have the reins in your
+own hands now.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish to keep the reins there,” Tom returned quickly. “Still
+I don’t want to hold the power for an instant if there is reason
+to believe that Mr. Thurston didn’t know what he was doing.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that is all you required of me, Reade, rest easy and go ahead
+with the big trust that has been placed in your hands,” replied
+Dr. Gitney.</p>
+
+<p>“Then help me to get a few things out of the chief’s tent that we
+shall need,” replied Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me what the things are,” rejoined the physician, “and I’ll pass
+them out. I don’t want one of you in there, or Thurston will soon be
+as delirious as Blaisdell is, poor fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>By stealth, drawing tables and instruments, several boxes of maps,
+books and papers and other necessary articles were taken from
+Mr. Thurston tent without awaking the sick man.</p>
+
+<p>These were removed to a tent that was not occupied at the moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Supper’s ready, folks,” announced Bob, the cook’s helper, stepping
+softly through camp.</p>
+
+<p>Tom joined the other engineers, taking a few hasty mouthfuls.
+Hardly had the party gathered in the mess tent when ’Gene Black,
+bright and cheery, stepped in swiftly, nodding here and there.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Rutter, I take it you are running the camp from now on?”
+asked Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Guess just once more,” replied Jack.</p>
+
+<p>“Who is, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade.”</p>
+
+<p>Black gulped, then grinned.</p>
+
+<p>“The cub? That’s good!”</p>
+
+<p>Black leaned back on his stool, laughing loudly.</p>
+
+<p>“But who _is_ going to boss the camp?” insisted Black, after he had
+had his laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade!” flung back the other engineers in one voice.</p>
+
+<p>“What have you to say to this, cub?” asked ’Gene Black, turning
+to Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Thurston placed me in charge because no one else would assume
+the responsibility,” smiled Tom good-humoredly.</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re going to stay boss for the present?”</p>
+
+<p>“Unless Mr. Thurston changes his mind.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, what a fool I was to be away this afternoon!” groaned Black
+to himself. “I could have gotten this chance away from a cub like
+Reade. Oh, but my real task would have been easy if I had been here
+on deck, and had got Thurston to turn matters over to me. Reade
+will be easy! He’s only a cub—-a booby. Even if he proved
+shrewd—-well, I have at my disposal several ways of getting rid
+of him!”</p>
+
+<p>Then, aloud, Black went on:</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, I’m a candidate for the post of acting assistant chief
+engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>“That goes to Rutter, if he’ll take it,” replied Tom, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I’ll take it,” nodded Jack Rutter. “I can follow orders, when
+I have someone else to give them.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom was intentionally pleasant with ’Gene Black. He intended
+to remain pleasant—-until he was quite ready to act.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately after supper Tom ordered one of the chainmen to saddle
+a pony and be ready to take a message back to the telegraph service
+that was rapidly overtaking them.</p>
+
+<p>“I want you to be sure to get a receipt for the message from the
+operator,” Tom explained. “Direct the operator to get the message
+through to New York at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the use?” demanded the chainman. “It’s night in New York,
+the same as it is here. If the message goes through at any time
+tonight it will do.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t ask you that,” Tom replied quietly. “I told you to
+instruct the operator, from me, to send the message at once.
+Then, if there is any delay on the way, the message will still
+be in New York in the morning when the company’s offices open.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom Reade went to the new headquarters’ tent, seated himself
+at the desk and picked up a pen.</p>
+
+<p>“Whew!” he muttered suddenly. “This message is going to be harder
+to write than I thought! When the president of the S.B. &amp; L. gets
+my telegram, informing him that a cub is in command here, he’ll blow
+up! If he recovers he’ll wire me that he’s sending a grown man for
+the job!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br><span class="small">BLACK TURNS OTHER COLORS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Through the night Tom Reade managed to get some sound sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Had he been less exhausted physically the excitement caused by
+his sudden and dizzying promotion might have interfered with his
+rest. As it was, he slept like a log, though, by his own orders,
+he was called twice in the night to be informed as to the condition
+of the two sick men.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning a male nurse for whom Dr. Gitney had arranged arrived
+in camp. Thereafter the physician had a little opportunity for rest.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston reached the delirium stage in his illness that forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, I don’t feel like going out this morning,” announced ’Gene
+Black, approaching the young head of the camp after early breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter?” Tom asked pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>“I have rather a bad headache,” complained Black.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a woman’s complaint,” smiled Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Just the same, I’m not fit for duty,” retorted Black rather testily.
+“I hope I’m not going to come down with the fever, but I can’t be
+sure.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’d better stay in camp, then,” nodded Reade. “Don’t go out into
+the field again until you feel like work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph! He takes it easily enough,” grunted Black to himself
+as the young chief strode away to confer with Butter. “I wonder
+if the cub suspects the game I’m playing here? Oh, pshaw! Of
+course he doesn’t suspect. Why should he? The truth is that
+Cub Reade doesn’t realize how much every man is needed in the
+field. Reade doesn’t understand the big need for hustle here.
+Well, that all helps to make my task the easier.”</p>
+
+<p>Within five minutes Rutter and the other engineers had their full
+instructions. As they started away Tom called after them:</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen, if there is any possible way of putting fifty per cent.
+more work into each day, now, I know I can rely upon you all to do
+it. The S.B. &amp; L. must run its first train over the completed road
+within charter time.”</p>
+
+<p>Now, Tom had opportunity to wonder what had happened to Harry
+Hazelton, who should have been back in camp the preceding evening.
+“He must have had to go farther for ice than we imagined,”
+was the only conclusion Reade could form. “At any rate, Harry
+won’t come back until he has it. He won’t bring back merely an
+excuse when his commission was for a ton of ice.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom wandered into the new headquarters’ tent, heaved a big sigh
+as the weight of his new responsibilities struck him with full
+force, and began a systematic examination of all the piles of
+papers and maps now under his charge.</p>
+
+<p>By nine o’clock Harry Hazelton and his guide returned, followed
+by a four-mule transport wagon.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, hearing the approach, came out and beckoned. Harry rode
+up, dismounting.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I got the ice, you see,” announced Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you have to go very far for it?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; but you and I forgot to allow for the time that mules would
+need for rest on such a steep, uphill climb. Where is the ice to go?”</p>
+
+<p>“Send the man over to Jake Wren. Jake knows more about such things
+than you or I will know within the next ten years.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry carried the order to the driver, then hurried back.</p>
+
+<p>“How are our sick men?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Both alive, but delirious. Doc Gitney has a man nurse to help
+him now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did Mr. Rutter leave any orders for me?” pressed Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“No; Rutter is in charge of the actual field work only.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who gives the main orders?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do—-unless New York changes the plan.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom hastily narrated what had taken place in Mr. Thurston’s tent
+the day before. Harry listened, his eyes growing larger as he
+heard.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom! I’m mighty glad!” he cried delightedly. “You’re going
+to do the trick, too! You’re going to put the S.B. &amp; L. through
+within the time allowed by the charter!”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going to do it or wear myself out,” replied Reade, with a
+glint of determination in his eyes. “But, Harry, the road isn’t
+going to go through on mere wind. We’ve got to work—-not talk!
+Come into the new headquarters’ tent. Throw the front of your
+shirt open, take a few deep breaths, tie down the safety valve
+and get ready to make the steam fly. I’m going over the maps
+and documents, the field notes, the reports and what not. I want
+you to help me untangle them and set all matters straight.”</p>
+
+<p>For two hours the cub engineers worked as they had never toiled
+before. Then a horseman drew up before their tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Telegram for Reade, acting chief engineer,” called the man from
+saddle. “The czar over at the cook house told me I’d find my
+man here.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m Reade,” admitted Tom, stepping outside and receiving the
+envelope. “Do you belong with the telegraph construction crowd?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sir,” replied the young horseman.</p>
+
+<p>“How long before you expect to have the line up with the camp?”</p>
+
+<p>“By tomorrow night, unless you move the camp forward again.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s good news,” nodded Reade. “Wait until I see whether there
+is to be an answer to this message.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom stepped inside, breaking the flap of the envelope. From head
+to foot he trembled as his eyes took in the following message:</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, Acting Chief Engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“Relying upon Thurston’s judgment, and from your satisfactory
+wire, conclude that Thurston chose right man for post. Assume
+all responsibilities. Advise New York offices daily as to condition
+of work, also condition Thurston and Blaisdell. Spare no expense
+in their care. Shall join you within five days.”</p>
+
+<p>(Signed) “Newnham, President S.B. &amp; L. R.R.”</p>
+
+<p>Having read the telegram, Tom turned to pick up a sheet of paper.
+After jotting down the address of President Newnham, he added:</p>
+
+<p>“Shall hustle job through rapidly if there is any way of doing
+it. Shall engage extra engineers in this state. Hope to be able
+to show you, on arrival, things moving at speed.”</p>
+
+<p>(Signed) Reade, “Acting Chief Engineer.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom shoved both despatches under his chum’s eyes. Naturally
+Hazelton read the one from New York first.</p>
+
+<p>“Whew! The president seems to trust you,” murmured Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“No; he doesn’t,” Tom retorted. “He doesn’t know anything about
+me. His wire shows that he knows and trusts Mr. Thurston, the
+man who picked me out for this job.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom wrote a second despatch, addressed to the State University.
+It ran as follows:</p>
+
+<p>“Have heard that your university has party from engineering school
+in field this summer. Can you place me in immediate wire communication
+with professor in charge of party? Have practical work to offer
+students.”</p>
+
+<p>This also Tom showed briefly to his chum. Then, picking up the
+two telegrams, Tom stepped outside, turning them over to the rider.
+“Ask your operator to rush both of these, the one to New York
+going first.”</p>
+
+<p>As the pony’s hoofs clicked against the gravel, Reade stepped
+inside the tent.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you going to do with the State University students?”
+asked Harry curiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Put ’em at work on the smaller jobs here,” Tom answered. “At
+least, as many of them as the professor will vouch for.”</p>
+
+<p>Three hours later Tom received an answer to his local despatch.
+It was from Professor Coles, sixty miles away, in camp with a
+party of thirty engineering students. The professor asked for
+further particulars. Tom wired back:</p>
+
+<p>“Can use your entire lot of students in practical railroad work,
+if they want experience and can do work. Will you bring them
+here with all speed and let us try them out? For yourself, we
+offer suitable pay for a man of your attainments. Students engaged
+will be paid all they are worth.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gracious, but you’re going in at wholesale! What will President
+Newnham say to you for engaging men at such a wholesale rate!”</p>
+
+<p>“By the time he reaches here,” replied Tom in a tone that meant
+business, “either he will see results that will force him to
+approve—-or else he’ll give me my walking papers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, what shall we do?” inquired Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing. It’s nearly time for the field force to be back in camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’d better work every minute of the time,” urged Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“We’re going to take things more easily after this,” Tom yawned.</p>
+
+<p>“Is that what you mean by hustling?”</p>
+
+<p>“In a way, yes,” Tom nodded. “See here, Harry, in the field we
+tried to do the work of a man and a half each, didn’t we? And
+here at the drawing tables, too.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now there is need of hustling, and, if we work too hard, we simply
+won’t have time to plan for others, or even to know what they’re
+doing. There are a lot of students coming, Harry. Most of them
+will be good men, for they’re young, full of enthusiasm, and just
+crazy to show what they can do. Some of them will doubtless be
+good draughtsmen. You’ll take these men and see to it that the
+drawing is pushed forward. But you won’t work too hard yourself.
+You’ll see to it that the force under you is working, and in
+that way you’ll be three times as useful as if you merely ground
+and dug hard by yourself. I shall go light on real work, just
+in order that I may have my eyes and brains where they will do
+the most good every minute of the time.”</p>
+
+<p>Someone was approaching. Tom threw open the flap of the tent,
+thus discovering that the man was Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Howdy, Reade,” was the greeting of the idle engineer. “I’m glad
+to say that my headache is better. I’m not going to have the
+fever, after all. Tomorrow I’ll be out on the leveling job.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“I want you to rest up tomorrow, Black.”</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t do it,” retorted the other flatly. “Tomorrow I go out
+and continue running my levels.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I may as well tell you,” Tom continued, “what I would have
+preferred to break to you more easily later on.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?” questioned the other sharply, an uneasy look
+creeping into his face.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not going to do any more work for us, Black,” replied the
+young chief coolly.</p>
+
+<p>“Not do any more work, What do you mean, Reade? Am I discharged
+from this corps?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not yet, Black, for I haven’t the money at hand to pay you to
+date. So you may stay here until the paymaster comes. Then, when
+you have your full amount of pay, you can leave us.”</p>
+
+<p>“What does this mean?” demanded ’Gene Black angrily, as he stepped
+closer, his eyes blazing.</p>
+
+<p>Some young men would have shrunk back before Black’s menacing
+manner. Tom had never yet met the man who could make him really
+afraid.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve already told you the whole story, Black.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why am I discharged?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am not obliged to give you my reasons.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll find you’ll have to do so!” stormed ’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then,” Tom answered, “you get through here because you kicked
+one of the tripod legs of your leveling instrument the other day, and
+left a mark on the wood.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you try to be funny with me, you young hound!” hissed Black,
+stepping so close that Tom gently pushed him back. “You young
+idiot! Do you think you can fire me—-and get away with it?”</p>
+
+<p>“We won’t talk about it any more,” Tom answered. “Your time will
+be all your own until the paymaster arrives. After you’ve received
+your money you will leave camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are any of the others going?”</p>
+
+<p>“No.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re discharging me for personal reasons!” snarled ’Gene
+Black. “However, you can’t do it! I’ll wire the president of
+the road, at New York.”</p>
+
+<p>“He won’t receive your wire,” Tom assured the irate one. “President
+Newnham is on his way here. Probably he’ll arrive here before
+the paymaster does. You may take your case to President Newnham
+in person if you wish.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s what I’ll do, then!” breathed ’Gene Black fiercely.
+“And I’ll take your place in charge here, cub! If I don’t, _you_
+shall never finish the S.B. &amp; L!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br><span class="small">BAD PETE MIXES IN SOME</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Forty-Eight hours later Professor Coles arrived in camp with thirty
+healthy, joyous young students of engineering.</p>
+
+<p>It didn’t take Tom half an hour to discover that he had some excellent
+material here. As for the professor himself, that gentleman was
+a civil engineer of the widest experience.</p>
+
+<p>“I shall need you to advise me, professor,” Tom explained. “While
+I had the nerve to take command here, I’m only a boy, after all,
+and you’ll be surprised when you find out how much there is that
+I don’t know.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s very evident, Mr. Reade,” smiled the professor, “that you
+know the art of management, and that’s the important part in any
+line of great work.”</p>
+
+<p>The student party had brought their own tents and field equipment
+with them. Their arrival had been a total surprise in camp, as
+none of the other engineers, save Harry, had known what was in
+the wind.</p>
+
+<p>“If these boys don’t make mistakes by wholesale,” declared Jack
+Butter, “we’ll just boost the work along after this. I wonder
+why Mr. Thurston never hit upon the idea of adding such a force?”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s very likely he has been thinking of it all along,” Tom rejoined.
+“The main point, however, is that we seem to have a bully field
+force.”</p>
+
+<p>Four of the students had been selected to serve as map-making
+force under Harry Hazelton. The rest were going out into the
+field, some of them as engineers in embryo, the rest as chainmen
+and rodmen.</p>
+
+<p>Though the field outfit now presented a lively appearance, all
+was kept as quiet as possible in and near the camp, for neither
+Mr. Thurston nor Mr. Blaisdell knew what was going on about them.
+Both were still delirious, and very ill.</p>
+
+<p>“Now I see why you could afford to ‘fire’ me and let the work
+slack up for a while,” sneered Black, meeting Reade after dark.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you?” asked Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“These boys will spoil the whole business. You don’t seem to
+have any idea of the numbers of fool mistakes that boys can make.”</p>
+
+<p>“They’re good fellows, anyway, and honest,” Tom rejoined.</p>
+
+<p>“Give some of ’em leveling work out on Section Nineteen,” suggested
+’Gene, apparently seized with a sudden thought. “Then compare
+their field notes with mine, and see how far out they are.”</p>
+
+<p>“I happen to know all about your leveling notes on Nineteen,”
+Reade retorted rather significantly.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?” flared Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Just before Mr. Thurston was taken ill, as it happened, Hazelton
+and I took a leveling instrument out on Nineteen one day and ran
+your sights over after you.”</p>
+
+<p>“So that’s why you ‘fired’——-” began Black, his thoughts moving
+swiftly. Then, realizing that he was about to say too much, he
+went on: “What did you find wrong with my sights on Nineteen?”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t say that anything was wrong with your work,” Reade rejoined.
+“What I was about to say was that, if I put any of the students
+at leveling on Nineteen, by way of test, I shall have my own notes
+with which to compare theirs.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” muttered the fellow. Then shaking with anger, he walked
+away from the young chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Black knows that much against himself,” smiled Reade inwardly.
+“He doesn’t yet know, however, that I heard him talking with
+Bad Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>Though he was pretending to take things easily, Tom’s head was
+all but whirling with the many problems that presented themselves
+to him. To get away from it all for a while Tom strolled a short
+distance out of camp, seating himself on the ground under a big
+tree not far from the trail.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later the young chief heard halting footsteps that
+struck his ear as being rather stealthy. Someone, from camp,
+was heading that way. Stealth in the other’s movements made Reade
+draw himself back into the shadow.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black halted not far from the tree. Turning back toward
+the camp, the fellow shook his fist violently in that direction.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s certainly thinking of me,” grimaced Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“You young cub, you may laugh for a day or two more!” muttered
+Black, with another shake of his fist.</p>
+
+<p>“If that’s meant for me, I’m much obliged, I’m sure,” thought
+Reade. “Laughing is always a great pleasure for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s your turn now,” continued Black, in the same low, passionate
+tone, “but I’ll soon have you blocked—-or else under the sod!”</p>
+
+<p>“Oho!” reflected the young acting chief engineer, not without
+a slight shudder. “Is assassination in the plans of the people
+behind ’Gene Black’s treachery? Or is putting me under the sod
+merely an addition that Black has made for his own pleasure?”</p>
+
+<p>The plotter, still unaware of the eavesdropper, had now turned
+and was walking down the trail. He was now so far from camp that
+he did not need to be soft-footed.</p>
+
+<p>Out of the shadow, after a brief pause, stole Tom Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“If Black is going to meet anyone tonight I’d better be near to
+the place of meeting. I might hear something that would teach
+me just what to do to checkmate the plotters against us.”</p>
+
+<p>For fully half a mile the chase continued. Two or three times Reade
+stepped against some slight obstacle in the darkness, making a
+sound which, he feared, would travel to the ears of Black. But
+the latter kept on his way.</p>
+
+<p>Finally ’Gene Black halted where three trees grew in the form
+of a triangle and threw a dense shadow. In the same instant the
+young chief engineer dropped out of sight behind a boulder close
+to the path.</p>
+
+<p>Black’s low, thrilling whistle sounded. A night bird’s call answered.
+Soon afterwards, another form appeared, and Tom, peering anxiously,
+was sure that he recognized the man whom he expected to see—-Bad
+Pete.</p>
+
+<p>What Tom heard came disjointedly—-a few words here and there,
+but enough to set him thinking “at the rate of a mile a minute,”
+as he told himself.</p>
+
+<p>Up the trail came the pair, after some minutes. Tom crouched
+flat behind his boulder.</p>
+
+<p>“Great! I hope they’ll halt within a few feet and go on talking
+about the things that I want to hear—-_must_ hear!” quivered Reade.</p>
+
+<p>It was provoking! Black and Bad Pete passed so close, yet the
+only sound from either of them, while within earshot, was a chuckle
+from Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s right! Laugh,” gritted disappointed Tom. “Laughing is in
+your line! You’re planning, somehow, to put the big laugh over the
+whole line of the S.B. &amp; L. railroad. If I could only hear a little
+more I might be able to turn the laugh on you!”</p>
+
+<p>The pair went on out of sight. Tom waited where he was for more
+than half an hour.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, the coast is surely clear,” thought Reade at last. He rose
+and started campward.</p>
+
+<p>“The soft-foot, the rubber shoe won’t work now,” Tom decided.
+“If I were to go along as if trying not to run into anyone, and
+that pair got first sight of me, it would make them suspicious.
+I haven’t been eavesdropping—-oh, no! I’m merely out taking
+a night stroll to ease my nerves.”</p>
+
+<p>Therefore the cub chief puckered his lips, emitting a cheery whistling
+as he trudged along up the trail.</p>
+
+<p>As it happened the pair whom Tom sought had not yet parted. From
+behind a boulder a man stepped out in his path. From the other
+side of the boulder another man moved in behind him.</p>
+
+<p>“Out for the air, Reade?” asked the sneering voice of ’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello, Black—-is that you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Black,” broke in the voice of Bad Pete, “you wanted this
+cub, and he’s all yours! What are you going to do with him?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br><span class="small">BLACK’S PLOT OPENS WITH A BANG</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Some mistake here, gentlemen,” interjected Tom Reade coolly.
+“Unless I’m very badly informed I don’t belong to either of you.
+If anyone owns me, then I belong to the S.B. &amp; L.”</p>
+
+<p>“I told you I’d make you settle with me for throwing me out of
+the camp,” remarked Black disagreeably.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not out yet—-more’s the pity,” Tom retorted. “You will
+be, however, as soon as the paymaster arrives.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re wrong,” jeered ’Gene. “You’re out—-from this minute!”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?” Tom inquired, looking Black steadily in the eye.</p>
+
+<p>Yet the young chief engineer had a creepy realization of just
+what the pair _did_ mean. Black must have confederates somewhere
+in the mountains near. It was evidently the rascal’s intention
+to seize Tom and carry him away where he would be held a prisoner
+until he had lost all hope of regaining his position at the head
+of the railroad’s field force.</p>
+
+<p>“You say that I’ll be thrown out of camp very soon,” sneered Black.
+“The fact is, you are not going back to camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s going to stop me?” Reade inquired, with no sign of fear.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re not going back to camp!” Black insisted.</p>
+
+<p>“Someone has been giving you the wrong tip,” smiled Tom.</p>
+
+<p>He started forward, brushing past Black. It was mainly a pretense,
+for Reade had no notion but that he would be stopped.</p>
+
+<p>With a savage cry Black seized him by the shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Tom made a quick turn, shaking the fellow off. While he was thus
+occupied Bad Pete slipped about, and now confronted Reade. The
+muzzle of a revolver was pressed against the young engineer’s belt.</p>
+
+<p>“Hoist your hands!” ordered Pete warningly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom obeyed, though he hoisted his hands only as far as his mouth.
+Forming a megaphone, he gave vent to a loud yell of:</p>
+
+<p>“Roo-rup! roo-rup! roo-rup!”</p>
+
+<p>It was one of the old High School yells of the good old Gridley
+days—-one of the yells sometimes used as a signal of distress
+by famous old Dick &amp; Co., of which Tom Reade had been a shining
+member.</p>
+
+<p>On the still air of the mountain night that yell traveled far
+and clearly. It was a call of penetrating power, traveling farther
+than its sound would suggest.</p>
+
+<p>“You do that again, you young coyote, and I’ll begin to pump!”
+growled Bad Pete savagely.</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t need to do it again,” Tom returned. “Wait a few minutes,
+and you’ll see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Shall I drop him, Black?” inquired Pete.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black was about to answer in the affirmative, when a sound
+up the trail caught his attention.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s someone coming,” snarled Black, using his keen powers
+of hearing.</p>
+
+<p>“Wait and I’ll introduce you,” mocked Tom Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“We won’t wait. Neither will you,” retorted Black. “You’ll come
+with us. About face and walk fast!”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not going your way tonight,” replied Reade calmly.</p>
+
+<p>“If he doesn’t obey every order like a flash, Pete, then you pull
+the trigger and wind this cub up.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” nodded Pete. “Cub, you heard what Black said?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied Tom, looking at Pete with smiling eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Then come along,” ordered Black, seizing Tom by one arm.</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t!” Tom declared flatly.</p>
+
+<p>“You know what refusal means. Pete is steady on the trigger.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is he?” asked Reade coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Watching like a cat through his sleepy-looking eyes, Reade suddenly
+shot his right hand across his abdomen in such fashion as to knock
+away the muzzle of the revolver. Bad Pete felt himself seized
+in a football tackle that had been the terror of more than one
+opposing High School football player.</p>
+
+<p>Crash! Pete struck the ground, Reade on top of him.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black darted to the aid of his companion, but shrank back
+as he caught the glint of the revolver that Tom had twisted out
+of the hand of the bad man.</p>
+
+<p>“Duck, Black!” warned Tom, in a quiet tone that nevertheless had
+a deadly note in it.</p>
+
+<p>“Where are you?” called the voice of Harry Hazelton, not two hundred
+yards up the trail now.</p>
+
+<p>“Here!” called Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Wow-ow-ow! Whoop!” yelled a chorus of college boys.</p>
+
+<p>It all took place in a very few seconds. Black, hesitating whether
+or not to close with Reade, decided on flight. He turned and
+fled.</p>
+
+<p>Whizz-zz-zz! The sound was made by the captured revolver as Tom,
+leaping to his feet, threw it as far from him as he could. It
+sailed through space, next disappearing over the edge of a steep
+precipice.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s your hurry, Peter?” drawled Reade, as, jerking Bad Pete
+to his feet, he planted a kick that sent the bad man down the
+trail a dozen feet.</p>
+
+<p>Tom started after Pete, intent on another kick. Bad Pete sped
+down the trail blindly. Like most of his gun-play kind, he had
+little courage when deprived of his implement of murder.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s up, Tom?” demanded Harry Hazelton, leaping to the spot.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the row, chief?” asked one of the university boys eagerly.
+“Anyone you want us to catch? Whoop! Lead the way to the running
+track while we show you our best time!”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s nothing to be done, I think,” laughed Tom. “Do you all
+know Black by sight?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” came the answer from a score of throats.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” Tom continued, “if any of you ever catch sight of him
+in the camp again you are hereby authorized to run him out by
+the use of any kind of tactics that won’t result fatally.”</p>
+
+<p>On the way up the trail Tom told the rescue party something about
+the late affair.</p>
+
+<p>However, Reade referred to it only as a personal quarrel, refraining
+from making any mention of the treachery of Black and of the plots
+of which that treacherous engineer was a part.</p>
+
+<p>“If you’ve many friends like that one, chief, you had better strap
+a gun on to your belt.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t like revolver carrying,” Tom replied bluntly. “It always
+makes a coward of a fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>Two mornings later the telegraph wire, one end of which now rested
+in a tent in camp, brought word that President Newnham was at the
+construction camp, and would be along in the course of the day.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, Harry and the draughtsmen were the only engineers in camp
+at the hour when the message arrived.</p>
+
+<p>“Big doings coming our way!” announced Tom, after he had broken
+the news to the others.</p>
+
+<p>“Is Mr. Newnham likely to make much of a shake-up?” asked Watson,
+one of the college-boy draughtsmen.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve never met him,” Tom answered, “and I don’t know. We’re
+going along at grand old speed, and Mr. Newnham had better let
+things run just as they’re going now, if he wants to see the S.B.
+&amp; L. open for traffic within charter time.”</p>
+
+<p>“He may give all of us university boys the swift run,” laughed
+another of the draughtsmen.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe it,” Tom replied. “The added help that you fellows
+have given us has enabled us to double our rush forward. I’ve a
+notion that President Newnham is a man of great common sense.”</p>
+
+<p>“How are the sick men this morning,” inquired Harry. “Is either
+one of them fit to talk with the president?”</p>
+
+<p>“Doc Gitney says he won’t allow any caller within a thousand feet
+of his patients,” Tom smiled. “And Doc seems to be a man of his
+word.”</p>
+
+<p>Both Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell were now weakly conscious,
+in a half-dazed sort of way. Their cases were progressing favorably
+on the whole, though it would be weeks ere either would be fit
+to take charge of affairs.</p>
+
+<p>The camp had been moved forward, so as to leave the sick men about
+a fifth of a mile away from the scenes of camp activity. This
+insured quiet for them until they were able to endure noise once more.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll be amazingly busy until the president gets here, I take
+it,” remarked Bushrod, another college boy, without glancing up
+from his drawing table.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” drawled Tom, with a smile. “When you get time to breathe
+look out of the door and see what I’m doing.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom walked over to his favorite seat, a reclining camp chair that
+he had placed under a broad shade tree. Seating himself, the
+cub chief opened a novel that he had borrowed from one of the
+college boys.</p>
+
+<p>“It looks lazy,” yawned Tom, “but what can I do? I’ve hustled
+the corps, but I’m up with them to the last minute of work they’ve
+done. There is nothing more I can do until they bring me more
+work. I might ride out and see how the fellows are coming along
+in the field, but I was out there yesterday, and I know all they’re
+doing, and everyone of their problems. Besides, if I rode afield,
+I’d miss Mr. Newnham.”</p>
+
+<p>So he opened the book and read for an hour. Then he glanced up
+as a stranger on horseback rode into camp.</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me where I can find Mr. Reade,” said the new arrival.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re looking at hire,” Tom replied.</p>
+
+<p>“No, son; I want your father,” explained the horseman.</p>
+
+<p>“If you go on horseback it will take you months to reach him,”
+Tom explained. “My father lives ’way back east.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I want the chief engineer of this outfit,” insisted the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re at the end of your journey.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t tell me, young man, that you’re the chief engineer,” protested
+the horseman.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” Tom admitted modestly. “I’m only the acting chief. Hold
+on. If you think I’m not responsible for that statement you might
+ask any of the fellows over in the headquarters tent.”</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Harry Hazelton thrust his head out through the
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“Young man,” hailed the stranger, “I want to find the chief.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reach out your hand, and you can touch him on the shoulder,”
+answered Hazelton, and turned back.</p>
+
+<p>“I know I don’t look entirely trustworthy,” grinned Tom, “but
+I’ve been telling you the truth.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, perhaps,” continued the stranger, looking keenly at the
+cub engineer, “you’ll know why I’m here. I’m Dave Fulsbee.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re mighty welcome, then,” cried Tom, reaching out his hand.
+“I’ve been wondering where you were.”</p>
+
+<p>“I came as soon as I could get the wagon-load of equipment together,”
+grinned Fulsbee.</p>
+
+<p>“Where is the wagon?”</p>
+
+<p>“Coming along up the trail. It will be here in about twenty minutes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll be glad to see your equipment, and to set you at work as
+soon as we’re ready,” Reade went on. “Harry, show Mr. Fulsbee
+the tent we’ve set aside for himself and his helper.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is that party?” questioned Watson, as Hazelton started off
+with the newcomer in tow.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, just a new expert that we’re taking on,” Tom drawled.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later all other thoughts were driven from Reade’s
+mind. A mountain wagon was sighted coming up the trail, drawn
+by a pair of grays. The stout gentleman, on the rear seat, dressed
+in the latest fashion, even to his highly polished shoes, must
+surely be all the way from Broadway.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham?” queried Tom, advancing to the wagon as it halted.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; is Mr. Reade here?”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re speaking to him, sir,” smiled the cub engineer.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham took a quick look, readjusted his spectacles, and
+looked once more. Tom bore the scrutiny calmly.</p>
+
+<p>“I expected to find a very young man here, Mr. Reade, but you’re
+considerably younger than I had expected. Yet Howe, in charge
+of the construction corps, tells me that you’ve been hustling
+matters at this field survey end. How are you, Reade?”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham descended from the wagon, at once holding out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m very comfortable, thank you, sir,” Tom smiled.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re dreadfully busy, I’m sure,” continued the president of
+the S.B. &amp; L. “In fact, Reade, I feel almost guilty in coming
+here and taking up your time when you’ve such a drive on. Don’t
+let me detain you. I can go right on into the field and talk
+with you there.”</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t be necessary, sir,” Tom answered, with another smile.
+“I’m not doing anything in particular.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing in particular? Why, I thought——-”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t do any tearing around myself,” laughed Reade. “Since
+you were kind enough to make me acting chief engineer here I’ve
+kept the other fellows driving pretty hard, and I have every bit
+of work done right up to the minute. Yet, as for myself, I have
+little to do, most of the day, except to sit in a camp easy chair,
+or else I ride a bit over the ground and see just where the fellows
+are working.”</p>
+
+<p>“You take it mighty easily,” murmured President Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“A chief may, if he has the sense to know how to work his
+subordinates,” Tom continued. “I don’t believe, sir, that you’ll
+find any fault with the way matters have gone forward.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let me see the latest reports,” urged Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, sir, if you’ll come into the head-quarters tent.”</p>
+
+<p>Leading the way into the tent where Harry Hazelton and his draughting
+force were at work, Tom announced:</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen, Mr. Newnham, president of the S.B. &amp; L., wishes to
+look over the reports and the maps with me. You may lay off until
+called back to work.”</p>
+
+<p>As the others filed out of the tent, Tom made Harry a sign to
+remain. Then the three went over the details of what the field
+survey party was doing.</p>
+
+<p>“From all I can see,” remarked President Newnham, “you have done
+wonderfully well, Reade. I can certainly find no fault with Tim
+Thurston for recommending that you be placed in charge. Thurston
+will certainly be jealous when he gets on his feet again. You
+have driven the work ahead in faster time than Thurston himself
+was able to do.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s very likely, sir,” replied Tom Reade, “that I have had an
+easier part of the country to work through than Mr. Thurston had.
+Then, again, the taking on of the engineer student party from
+the State University has enabled us to get ahead with much greater
+speed.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder why Thurston never thought to take on the students,”
+murmured Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! sounded an explosion, a mile or two to the westward.</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t know that you were doing any blasting, Reade,” observed
+the president of the S.B. &amp; L.</p>
+
+<p>“Neither did I, sir,” Tom replied, rising and listening.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! bang! bang! sounded a series of sharp reports.</p>
+
+<p>Tom ran out into the open Mr. Newnham following at a slower gait.</p>
+
+<p>Bang! bang! bang!</p>
+
+<p>“Hi, there, Riley!” roared Tom promptly. “Saddle two horses as
+quickly as you can. Harry, make ready to follow with me as soon
+as the horses are ready.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is anything wrong?” inquired the president. He was answered by more
+explosions in the distance.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m afraid so,” Tom muttered, showing his first trace of uneasiness.
+“However, I don’t want to say, Mr. Newnham, until I’ve investigated.”</p>
+
+<p>Before the horses were ready Tom descried, half a mile away, on
+a clear bit of trail, a horseman riding in at a furious gallop.</p>
+
+<p>“There comes a messenger, Mr. Newnham,” Tom went on. “We’ll soon
+know just what the trouble is.”</p>
+
+<p>“Trouble?” echoed Mr. Newnham, in astonishment. “Then you believe
+that is the word, do you?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m afraid, Mr. Newnham, that you’ve reached here just in time to
+see some very real trouble,” was Reade’s quick answer. “But wait
+just two minutes, sir, and we’ll have exact information. Guessing
+won’t do any good.”</p>
+
+<p>Once or twice, through the trees, they caught sight of the on-rushing
+rider. Then Jack Rutter, a big splotch of red on the left sleeve
+of his shirt, rode hard into camp.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he shouted, “we’re ambushed! Hidden scoundrels have
+been firing on us.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve ordered all the men in?” called Tom, as Rutter reined
+up beside him.</p>
+
+<p>“Every man of them,” returned Jack. “Poor Reynolds, of the student
+party, is rather seriously hit, I’m afraid. Some of the fellows
+are bringing him in.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re hit yourself,” Tom remarked.</p>
+
+<p>“What? That little scratch?” demanded Rutter scornfully. “Don’t
+count me as a wounded man, Reade. There are some firearms in
+this camp. I want to get the men armed, as far as the weapons
+will go, and then I want to go back and smoke out the miserable
+rascals!”</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t be wise, Jack,” Tom continued coolly. “You’ll find
+that there are too many of the enemy. Besides, you won’t have
+to fatigue yourselves by going back over the trail. The scoundrels
+will be here, before long. They doubtless intend to wipe out
+the camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Assassins coming to wipe out the camp?” almost exploded President
+Newnham. “Reade, this is most extraordinary!”</p>
+
+<p>“It is—-very,” Tom assented dryly.</p>
+
+<p>“But who can the villains be?”</p>
+
+<p>“A picked-up gang of gun-fighters, sent here to blow this camp
+off the face of the earth, since that is the only way that the
+backers of the rival road can find to set us back,” Tom rejoined.
+“If they drive us away from here, they’ll attack the construction
+force next!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br><span class="small">SHUT OFF FROM THE WORLD</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Five horsemen belonging to the field party rode in furiously, Matt
+Rice at their head.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a shame,” yelled Rice, as he threw himself from his horse.
+“I’d have stayed behind—-so would the others—-if we had had rifles
+with us. The scoundrels kept up a fire at a quarter of a mile range.
+Then we passed the men who are carrying Reynolds—-they’re almost
+here now—-but it wouldn’t have done any good for us to stand by them.
+We’d have made the other party only a bigger mark. Where are the
+revolvers, Reader? We’ve got to make a stand here. We can’t run away
+and leave our camp to fall into their hands.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re not going to run away,” said Reade grimly. “But I’ll tell
+you what a half dozen of you can do. Hustle for shovels and dig
+a deep hole here. This gentleman is Mr. Newnham, president of the
+company that employs us. If the camp is attacked we can’t afford to
+have the president of the road killed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham would do far better to ride down the trail as fast as
+he can go, and try to join the construction camp,” offered Rutter.</p>
+
+<p>The president of the S.B. &amp; L. had been silent during the last few
+exciting moments. But now he opened his mouth long enough to reply
+very quickly:</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham hasn’t any thoughts of flight. I am not a fighting
+man, and never saw a shot fired in anger in my life, but I’m going
+to stand my ground in my own camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dig the hole, anyway,” ordered Tom. “We’ll want a safe place to put
+young Reynolds. We can’t afford to leave him exposed to fire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where are the revolvers?” Rice insisted, as others started to get
+shovels and dig in a hurry.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, never mind the revolvers,” replied Tom. “We won’t use ’em,
+anyway. We can’t, for they wouldn’t carry far enough to put any of
+the enemy in danger.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade,” remarked Mr. Newnham, in a quiet undertone, “does it
+occur to you that you are making no preparations to defend the camp!
+That, in fact, you seem wholly indolent in the matter?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no; I’m not indolent, sir,” smiled Tom. “You’ll find me
+energetic enough, sir, I imagine, when the need for swift work comes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course you couldn’t foresee the coming of any such outrage
+as this,” Mr. Newnham continued.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I rather guessed that this sort of thing was coming,” Tom
+confessed.</p>
+
+<p>“You guessed it—-and yet the camp has been left undefended? You
+haven’t taken any steps to protect the company’s rights and property
+at this point?” gasped Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“You will find, sir, that I am not wholly unprepared,” Reade remarked
+dryly, while the corners of his mouth drew down grimly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was apparently the only one in camp, after the excitement
+started, who had noted that Dave Fulsbee, at the first shots, had
+leaped to his horse and vanished down the trail to the eastward.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a party of a dozen, headed by Professor Coles, came
+in on foot, bearing young Reynolds with them.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, mount one of the saddled horses and rush down yonder for
+Doc Gitney,” Tom ordered. “Give him your horse to come back on.
+He must see to young Reynolds promptly.”</p>
+
+<p>Some of the field party came in on horseback, followed soon by still
+others on foot. Many of the field engineering party, in their haste,
+had left their instruments, rods and chains behind.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, after diving into and out of the headquarters tent, held up a
+pair of powerful binocular field glasses. With these he took
+sweeping views of the near-by hills to the westward.</p>
+
+<p>“The scoundrels haven’t gotten in at close quarters yet, sir,” Reade
+reported to President Newnham. “At least, I can’t make out a sign
+of them on the high ground that commands this camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“This whole business of an armed attack on us is most incomprehensible
+to me,” remarked Mr. Newnham. “I know, of course, that the W.C.
+&amp; A. haven’t left a stone unturned to defeat our efforts in getting
+our road running within the limits set in the charter. However,
+the W.C. &amp; A. people are crazy to send armed assassins against
+us in the field in this fashion. No matter, now, whether we finish
+the road on time, this rascally work by the opposition will defeat
+their hopes of getting the charter away from us.”</p>
+
+<p>“It might prevent them from doing so, sir,” Tom rejoined quietly,
+“if you were able to prove that the scoundrels who fired on our
+engineering parties this morning were really employed by the W.C.
+&amp; A. railroad crowd.”</p>
+
+<p>“Prove it?” snorted the man from Broadway. “Who else would have
+any interest in blocking us?”</p>
+
+<p>“Would that statement go in court, or before a legislature?” Tom
+pressed.</p>
+
+<p>“No, it wouldn’t,” President Newnham admitted thoughtfully. “I see
+the point, Reade. After the scoundrels have done their worst against
+us, they can disperse, vanishing among the hills, and the W.C. &amp; A.
+people will simply deny that they were behind the attack, and will
+call upon us to prove it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not only that, sir,” continued the cub chief engineer, “but I doubt
+if any of the officials of the W.C. &amp; A. have any real knowledge that
+such a move is contemplated. This trick proceeds from the fertile
+mind of some clever, well-paid scoundrel who is employed in the
+opposition railroad’s gloom department. It is a cleverly thought-out
+scheme to make us lose three or four days of work, which will be
+enough to prevent us from finishing the road on time. So, the
+enemy think that we must lose the charter, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“That trick will never work,” declared Mr. Newnham angrily. “Reade,
+there are courts, and laws. If the State of Colorado doesn’t protect
+us in our work, then we can’t be held to am count for not finishing
+within a given time.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s as the legislature may decide, I imagine, sir,” hazarded
+the young engineer. “There are powerful political forces working
+to turn this road’s charter over to the W.C. &amp; A. crowd. Your
+company’s property, Mr. Newnham, is entitled to protection from the
+state, of course. The state, however, will be able to reply that
+the authorities were not notified, and could not send protection
+to us.”</p>
+
+<p>“But we have a telegraph running from here out into the world!”
+cried the man from Broadway way, wheeling like a flash. “Reade,
+we’re both idiots not to have remembered, at the first shots,
+to send an urgent message to Denver. Where’s your operating tent?”</p>
+
+<p>“Over there. I’ll take you there, sir,” offered Tom, after pointing.
+“Still it won’t do any good, Mr. Newnham, to think of telegraphing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not do us any good?” echoed the other, aghast. “What nonsense
+are you talking, Reade? If we are hindered the feet of our having
+wired to the governor of the state will be our first proof of having
+appealed to the state for protection. Can’t you see that, Reade?”</p>
+
+<p>The pair now turned in at the operator’s tent.</p>
+
+<p>“Operator,” said Reade, to the young man seated before the keys on
+a table, “this gentleman man is President Newnham, of the S.B. &amp; L.
+Send any messages that he dictates.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get Denver on the wire,” commanded Mr. Newnham. “Hustle!”</p>
+
+<p>Click-click-click! rattled the sounder.</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t do a particle of good,” Tom uttered calmly. “’Gene Black,
+the engineer discharged from this camp, is serving the enemy.
+Black has brains enough to see that our wire was cut before he
+started a thing moving.”</p>
+
+<p>Click-click-click! spoke the sounder again.</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t get a thing,” explained the operator. “I can’t even get a
+response from the construction camp. Mr. Reade must be right—-our
+wire has been cut and we’re shut off from the outside world.”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br><span class="small">THE REAL ATTACK BEGINS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Hearing the moving wheels of a wagon on the trail, Tom looked outside,
+then seized Mr. Newnham’s arm rather roughly.</p>
+
+<p>“Come along, sir, and come quickly, if you want to see something
+that will beat a carload of telegrams,” urged the cub engineer.</p>
+
+<p>Having gotten the president of the road outside, Tom let go of
+his arm and raced on before that astonished man from Broadway.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, you fellows,” called Tom, almost gayly, as he ran to where
+engineers and chainmen men were standing in little groups, talking
+gloomily over the forenoon’s work. “Get in line, here—-a whole
+crowd of you!”</p>
+
+<p>Dave Fulsbee was now riding briskly toward the centre of the camp,
+ahead of the wagon for which he had gone down the trail. Laughing
+quietly, Tom hustled group after group of young men into one long
+line.</p>
+
+<p>“Hold up your right hands!” called out the young cub engineer.</p>
+
+<p>Wondering, his subordinates obeyed. Fulsbee reined up, dismounting
+before the line.</p>
+
+<p>“They’re all ready for you, friend,” called Tom gayly.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen, boys!” commanded Dave Fulsbee, as he faced the line on
+foot. “You do each and all of you, singly and severally, hereby
+swear that you will serve truly and well as special deputy sheriffs,
+and obey all lawful orders, so help you God?”</p>
+
+<p>Almost in complete silence the hands fell as their owners nodded.
+Both the engineers and rodmen felt a trifle dazed. Why was this
+solitary deputy sheriff before them, and with what did he expect
+them to fight! Were they to stand and throw rocks at an enemy armed
+with rifles?</p>
+
+<p>But just then the wagon was driven in front of them.</p>
+
+<p>“Hustle the cases out, boys! Get ’em open!” commanded Dave, though
+he spoke without excitement. “Forty rifles and ten thousand cartridges,
+all borrowed from the National Guard of the State. Get busy!
+If the coyotes down to the westward try to get busy around here
+we will talk back to them!”</p>
+
+<p>“Whoop!” yelled the college boys. They pushed and crowded about
+the wooden cases that were now unloaded.</p>
+
+<p>“See here,” boomed in the deep voice of Professor Coles, “I wasn’t
+sworn in, and I now insist that I, too, be sworn.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham, tell the professor that fighting is a boy’s business,
+and that there isn’t any call for him to risk himself,” appealed
+Tom. “There are plenty of youngsters here to do the fighting
+and to take the chances.”</p>
+
+<p>“Surely, there appear to be enough men,” chuckled President Newnham,
+who, since he realized that rifles and ammunition were at hand,
+appeared to be wonderfully relieved. “Professor, don’t think of
+running yourself into any danger. Look on, with me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Rifles are all given out, now, anyway,” called Dave Fulsbee coolly.
+“Now, youngsters, I’m going to show you where to station yourselves.
+Mr. Reade, have you seen anything through the glasses that looks
+interesting?”</p>
+
+<p>“By Jove,” Tom admitted, flushing guiltily, “I quite forgot to keep
+the lenses turned on the hills to the west.”</p>
+
+<p>He now made good for his omission, while Fulsbee led his young men
+away, stationing them in hiding places along the westward edge of
+the camp. Each man with a rifle was ordered not to rise from the
+ground, or to show himself in any way, and not to fire unless orders
+were given. Then Dave hurried back to the wagon. Something else
+was lifted out, all canvas covered, and rushed forward to a point
+just behind a dense clump of bushes.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, I want to apologize to you,” cried the man from Broadway,
+moving quickly over to where Tom stood surveying the hills beyond
+through his glass. “I thought, for a few minutes, that you had
+suspected some such rascally work afoot, and that you had failed
+to take proper precautions.”</p>
+
+<p>“If I had failed, sir,” murmured Tom, without removing the glass
+from before his eyes, “you would have arrived just in time, sir,
+to turn out of the camp a man who wasn’t fit to be in charge.
+Yet it was only accident, sir, that led me to suspect what might
+be in the air.”</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon Tom hastily recounted to the president of the company
+the story of how he had accidentally overheard fragments of talk
+between ’Gene Black and Bad Pete.</p>
+
+<p>“That gave me a hint of how the wind was blowing,” Tom continued,
+“though I couldn’t make out enough of their talk, on either occasion,
+to learn just what was happening. I telegraphed to the nearest
+town that had a sheriff in it, and that put me in touch with Fulsbee.
+Then Dave, over the wire, offered to bring arms here and to help
+us to defend our camp.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade,” exclaimed President Newnham hoarsely, “you are a
+wonderful young man! While seeming to be idle yourself, you have
+rushed the work through in splendid shape. Even when our enemies
+plot in the dark, and plan incredible outrages against us, you fully
+inform yourself of their plans. When the cowards strike you are
+ready to meet them, force for force. You may be only a cub
+engineer, but you have an amazing genius for the work in which
+chance has placed you out here.”</p>
+
+<p>“You may be guilty, Mr. Newnham, of giving me far more credit than
+I deserve,” laughed Tom gently. “In the matter of finding out the
+enemy’s designs, I didn’t, and I don’t know fully yet what the other
+side intends to do to us. What I did learn was by accident.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very few other young men would have been equal to making the
+greatest and best use of what accident revealed,” insisted Mr.
+Newnham warmly.</p>
+
+<p>Harry Hazelton came now, from the hole in the ground, to report
+that Dr. Gitney had done all he could for the comfort of poor
+young Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>“Gitney says that Reynolds ought to come along all right, as far
+as the mere wound itself is concerned,” Hazelton added. “What
+will have to be looked out for is suppuration. If pus forms in
+and around the wound it may carry Reynolds off, for there are
+no hospital conveniences to be had in this wild neck of the woods.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is the doctor staying with Reynolds?” Tom asked, still using the
+glasses on the hilly country that lay ahead.</p>
+
+<p>“No; he has gone back to Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell,” Hazelton
+answered. “Doc says he’ll have to be with them to quiet them in
+case the firing gets close. He says both men will become excited and
+try to jump out of bed and come over here. Doc says he’s going to
+strap ’em both down.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dr. Gitney may be badly needed here, if a fight opens,” Tom mused
+aloud.</p>
+
+<p>“He says, if we need him, to send for him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Come through a hot fire?” Tom gasped.</p>
+
+<p>“Surely! Doc Gitney is a Colorado man, born and bred. He doesn’t
+mind a lead shower when it comes in the line of duty,” laughed
+Harry. “Now, if you’re through using me as a messenger, I’m going
+to find a rifle.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t succeed,” Tom retorted. “Every rifle in camp already
+has an amateur soldier behind it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Just my luck!” growled Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a good, husky lad,” Tom continued. “If you want to be
+of real use, just lie down hug the earth, take good care not to
+be hit, and——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Fine and manly!” interjected Hazelton with contempt.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, don’t try to be a hero,” urged Tom teasingly. “There are
+altogether too many green, utterly inexperienced heroes here at
+present. Be useful, Harry, old chum, and let those who are good
+for nothing else be heroes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Following your own advice?” asked Hazelton. “Is that why you
+haven’t a rifle yourself?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why do I need a rifle?” demanded Reade. “I’m a non-combatant.”</p>
+
+<p>“You——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Box the chatter, Harry, and ship it east,” Tom interposed, showing
+signs of interest. Then, in a louder voice, Tom called:</p>
+
+<p>“Dave Fulsbee!”</p>
+
+<p>“Here,” answered the deputy sheriff from his hiding place in the
+brush.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you see that bald knob of rock ahead, to your left; about
+a quarter of a mile away?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do.”</p>
+
+<p>“I make out figures crawling to the cover of the line of brush
+just to the right of the bald knob,” Tom continued. “There are
+eight of them, I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“I see figures moving there,” Dave answered. Then, in a low voice,
+the deputy instructed the engineers on each side of him.</p>
+
+<p>“I see half a dozen more figures—-heads, rather—-showing just
+at the summit line of the rock itself,” went on Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; I make ’em,” answered Fulsbee, after a long, keen look.</p>
+
+<p>Again more instructions were given to the engineers.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, I’ve _got_ to have a rifle,” insisted Harry nervously.
+“You know, I always have been ’cracked, on target shooting. This
+is the best practical chance that I’ll ever have.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll have to wait your turn, Harry,” Tom urged soothingly.</p>
+
+<p>“My turn?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; wait until one of our fellows is badly hit. Then you can
+take up his rifle and move into his place on the line. When you’re
+hit, then I can have the rifle.”</p>
+
+<p>Hazelton made a face, though he said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Fulsbee’s assistant, the man who had driven the wagon into
+camp, stood silent, motionless, behind the canvas-covered object in
+the bushes just behind the engineer’s fighting line.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, if one of you galoots dares to fire before he gets the word,”
+sounded Dave Fulsbee’s warning voice in the ominous calm that
+followed, “I’ll snatch the offender out of the line and give him
+a good, sound spanking. The only man for me is the man who has
+the nerve to wait when he’s being shot at.”</p>
+
+<p>Crack! Far up on the bald knob a single shot sounded, and a bullet
+struck the ground about six feet from where Tom Reade stood with
+the binocular at his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Then there came a volley from the right of the rock, followed
+by one from the rock itself.</p>
+
+<p>“Easy, boys,” cautioned Fulsbee, as the bullets tore up the ground
+back of the firing line. “I’ll give you the word when the time
+comes.”</p>
+
+<p>Another volley sounded. Bullets tore up the ground near President
+Newnham, and one leaden pellet carried off that gentleman’s soft
+hat.</p>
+
+<p>“Please lie down, Mr. Newnham,” begged Tom, turning around. Now
+that the fight had opened the cub chief saw less use for the binocular.
+“We can’t have you hit, sir. You’re the head of the company,
+please remember.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t like this place, but I’m only one human life here,” the man
+from Broadway replied quietly, gravely. “If other men so readily
+risk their lives for the property of my associates and myself, then
+I’m going to expose myself at least as much as these young men ahead
+of us do.”</p>
+
+<p>“Just one shot apiece,” sounded Dave Fulsbee’s steady voice.
+“Fire where you’ve been told.”</p>
+
+<p>It was an irregular volley that ripped out from the defenders
+of the camp. Half of the marksmen fired to the right of the rook,
+the others at its crest.</p>
+
+<p>Right on top of this came another volley, fired from some new
+point of attack. It filled the air at this end of the camp with
+bullets.</p>
+
+<p>“Livin’ rattlers!”, cried Dave Fulsbee, leaping to his feet. “That’s
+the real attack. Reade, locate that main body and turn us loose on
+’em. If you don’t, the fellows in the real ambush will soon make a
+sieve of this camp. There must be a regiment of ’em!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br><span class="small">WHEN THE CAMP GREW WARM</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>President Newnham had prudently decided to lie down flat on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Nor was it any reflection on his courage that he did so. He was
+taking no part in the fight, and the leaden tornado that swept
+the camp from some unknown point was almost instantly repeated.</p>
+
+<p>At the same time the marksmen on and at the right of the bald
+knob continued to fire. The camp defenders were in a criss-cross
+of fire that might have shaken the nerves of an old and tried
+soldier.</p>
+
+<p>Tom watched the ground as bullets struck, trying to decide their
+original course from the directions in which the dust flew. Then
+he swung around to the right.</p>
+
+<p>With modern smokeless powder there was no light, bluish haze to
+mark the firing line of the new assailants. Tom Reade had to
+search and explore with his binocular glass until he could make
+out moving heads, waving arms.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve found ’em, Fulsbee!” young Reade cried suddenly, above the
+noise of rifles within a few yards of where they stood, as the
+engineers made the most of their chances to fire. “Turn the same
+way that I’m looking. See that blasted pine over there to your
+right, about six hundred there to the gully southeast of the tree.
+Got the line? Well, along there there’s a line of men hidden.
+Through the glass I can sometimes make out the flash of their rifles.
+Take the glass yourself, and see.”</p>
+
+<p>Dave Fulsbee snatched the binoculars, making a rapid survey.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he admitted, “you have surely located that crowd.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, go after them with your patent hay rake,” quivered Tom,
+feeling the full excitement of the thing in this tantalizing cross
+fire. Then the cub added, with a sheepish grin:</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you’ll scare ’em, instead of hitting ’em, Dave.”</p>
+
+<p>Fulsbee stepped over to his assistant. Between them they swung
+the machine gun around, the assistant wrenching off the canvas
+cover. Fulsbee rapidly sighted the piece for six hundred yards.
+The assistant stood by to feed belts of cartridges, while Dave took
+his post at the firing mechanism.</p>
+
+<p>Cr-r-r-r-rack! sounded the machine gun, spitting forth a pelting
+storm of lead. As the piece continued to disgorge bullets at
+the rate of six hundred a minute, Dave, a grim smile on his lips,
+swung the muzzle of the piece so as to spread the fire along the
+entire line of the main ambush.</p>
+
+<p>“Take the glass,” Tom roared in Harry’s ear, above the din. “See
+how Fulsbee is throwing up dust and bits of rock all along that
+rattled line.”</p>
+
+<p>Hazelton watched, his face showing an appreciative grin.</p>
+
+<p>“It has the scoundrels scared and going!” Hazelton yelled back.</p>
+
+<p>Fully fifteen hundred cartridges did the machine gun deliver up
+and down that line.</p>
+
+<p>Then, suddenly, Dave Fulsbee swung the gun around, delivering
+a hailstorm of bullets against the bald knob rock and the bushes
+to the right of it.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s the answer!” gleefully uttered Hazelton, who had just
+handed the glass back to his chum.</p>
+
+<p>The “answer” was a fluttering bit of white cloth tied to a rifle
+and hoisted over the bushes at the right of the bald knob.</p>
+
+<p>“Who do you suppose is holding the white cloth?” chuckled Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t guess,” Harry confessed.</p>
+
+<p>“Our old and dangerous friend Peter,” Tom laughed.</p>
+
+<p>“Bad Pete!”</p>
+
+<p>“No; Scared Pete.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a sudden twinkle in Hazelton’s eyes as he espied Dave
+Fulsbee’s rifle lying on the ground beside the machine gun.</p>
+
+<p>In another instant Harry had that rifle and was back at Tom’s
+side.</p>
+
+<p>Harry threw open the magazine, making sure that there were cartridges
+in the weapon. Then he dropped to one knee, taking careful sight
+in the direction of the white flag.</p>
+
+<p>“You idiot—-what are you doing?” blazed Tom.</p>
+
+<p>The fire from the camp had died out. That from the assailants
+beyond had ceased at least thirty seconds earlier.</p>
+
+<p>One sharp report broke the hush that followed.</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s doing that work? Stop it!” ordered Fulsbee, turning
+wrathfully.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m through,” grinned Harry meekly.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean by shooting at a flag of truce?” demanded the
+deputy sheriff angrily.</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t,” Harry argued, laying the rifle down on the ground.
+“I sent one in with my compliments, to see whether the fellow
+with the white rag would get the trembles. I guess he did, for
+the white rag has gone out of sight.”</p>
+
+<p>“They may start the firing again,” uttered Dave Fulsbee. “They’ll
+feel that you don’t respect their flag of truce.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t feel a heap of respect for the fellow that held up the
+white flag,” Hazelton admitted, with another grin. “It was Bad
+Pete, and I wanted to see what his nerve was like when someone
+else was doing the shooting and he was the target.”</p>
+
+<p>“Peter simply flopped and dropped his gun, Tom declared.</p>
+
+<p>“Say,” muttered Harry, his face showing real concern, “I hope
+I didn’t hit him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you aim at him?” demanded Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I did not.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then there _is_ some chance that Peter was hit,” Tom confessed.
+“Harry, when you’re shooting at a friend, and in a purely hospitable
+way, always aim straight for him. Then the poor fellow will have
+a good chance to get off with a whole skin!”</p>
+
+<p>“Cut out that line of talk,” ordered Hazelton, his face growing
+red. “Back in the old home days, Tom, you’ve seen me do some
+great shooting.”</p>
+
+<p>“With the putty-blower—-yes,” Tom admitted, with a chuckle.
+“Say, wasn’t Old Dut Jones, of the Central Grammar, rough on boys
+who used putty-blowers in the schoolroom?”</p>
+
+<p>“If Pete was hit, it wasn’t my shot that did it,” muttered Harry,
+growing redder still. “I aimed for the centre of that white rag.
+If we ever come across the rag we’ll find my bullet hole through
+it. That was what I hit.”</p>
+
+<p>Deputy Dave’s assistant was now cleaning out the soot-choked barrels
+of the machine gun, that the piece might be fit for use again as soon
+as the barrels had cooled.</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon,” declared Dave, “that our friends have done their worst.
+It’s my private wager that they’re now doing a foot race for the
+back trails.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is any one of our fellows hit?” called Tom, striding over to
+the late firing line. “Anyone hit? If so, we must take care
+of him at once.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom went the length of the line, only to discover that none of
+the camp’s defenders had been injured, despite the shower of bullets
+that had been poured in during the brief but brisk engagement.
+Three of the engineers displayed clothing that had been pierced
+by bullets.</p>
+
+<p>“Dave,” called Tom, “how soon will it be safe to send over to
+the late strongholds and find out whether any of Naughty Peter’s
+friends have any hurts that demand Doc Gitney’s attention?”</p>
+
+<p>“Huh! If any of the varmints are hit, I reckon they can wait,”
+muttered Fulsbee.</p>
+
+<p>“Not near this camp!” retorted Reade with spirit. “If any human
+being around here has been hurt he must have prompt care. How
+soon will it be safe to start?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know how soon it will be safe,” Dave retorted. “I want
+to take about a half dozen of the young fellows, on horseback,
+and ride over just to see if we can draw any fire. That will
+show whether the rascals have quit their ambushes.”</p>
+
+<p>“If they haven’t,” mocked Tom, “they’ll also show your little
+party some new gasps in the way of excitement.”</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless Reade did not object when Fulsbee called for volunteers.
+If any new firing was to be encountered it was better to risk
+a small force rather than a large one.</p>
+
+<p>Harry Hazelton was one of the six volunteers who rode out with
+Deputy Dave. Though they searched the country for miles they
+did not encounter any of the late raiders. Neither did they find
+any dead or wounded men.</p>
+
+<p>The abandoned transits and other instruments and implements were
+found and brought back to camp.</p>
+
+<p>While this party was absent Tom took Mr. Newnham back to headquarters
+tent, where he explained, in detail, all that had been accomplished
+and all that was now being done.</p>
+
+<p>Late in the afternoon Dave Fulsbee and his little force returned. Tom
+listened attentively to the report made by the sheriff’s officer.</p>
+
+<p>“They’ve cheated you out of one day’s work, anyway,” muttered the
+man from Broadway, rather fretfully.</p>
+
+<p>“We can afford to lose the time,” Tom answered almost carelessly.
+“Our field work is well ahead. It’s the construction work that
+is bothering me most. I hope soon to have news as to whether the
+construction outfit has been attacked.”</p>
+
+<p>“The wires are all up again, sir,” reported the operator, pausing
+at the doorway of the tent. “The men you sent back have mended
+all the breaks. I’ve just heard from the construction camp that
+none of the unknown scoundrels have been heard from there.”</p>
+
+<p>“They found you so well prepared here,” suggested President Newnham,
+“that the rascals have an idea that the construction camp is also well
+guarded. I imagine we’ve heard the last of the opposition.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re going to be fooled, sir,” Tom answered, very decisively.
+“For my part, I believe that the tactics of the gloom department of the
+W.C. &amp; A. have just been commenced. Fighting men of a sort are to be
+had cheap in these mountains, and the W.C. &amp; A. railroad is playing a
+game that it’s worth millions to win. They’re resolved that we shan’t
+win. And I, Mr. Newnham, am determined that we shall win!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX<br><span class="small">SHERIFF GREASE DROPS DAVE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Tom’s prediction came swiftly true in a score of ways.</p>
+
+<p>The gloom department of the W.C. &amp; A. immediately busied itself
+with the public.</p>
+
+<p>The “gloom department” is a comparatively new institution in some
+kinds of high finance circles. Its mission is to throw gloom
+over the undertakings of a rival concern. At the same time, through
+such matter as it can manage to have printed in some sorts of
+newspapers the gloom department seeks to turn the public against
+its business rivals.</p>
+
+<p>That same day news was flashed all over the country that a party
+of railway engineers, led by a mad deputy sheriff had wantonly
+fired on a party of travelers who had had the misfortune to get upon
+the building railway’s right of way.</p>
+
+<p>In many parts of Colorado a genuine indignation was aroused against
+the S.B. &amp; L. President Newnham sought to correct the wrong impression,
+but even his carefully thought out statements were misconstrued.</p>
+
+<p>The W.C. &amp; A., though owned mainly abroad, had some clever American
+politicians of the worst sort in its service. Many of these men
+were influential to some extent in Colorado.</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff of the county was approached and inflamed by some of
+these politicians, with the result that the sheriff hastened to the
+field camp, where he publicly dismissed Dave Fulsbee from his force
+of deputies. The sheriff solemnly closed his fiery speech by
+demanding Dave’s official badge.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s funny, but don’t mind, Dave,” laughed Tom, as he witnessed
+the handing over of the badge. “You won’t be out of work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Won’t be out of work, eh?” demanded Sheriff Grease hotly. “Just
+let him wait and see. There isn’t a man in the county who wants
+Dave Fulsbee about now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then what a disappointed crowd they’re going to be,” remarked
+Tom pleasantly, “for Mr. Newnham is going to make Dave chief of
+detectives for the company, at a salary of something like six
+thousand a year.</p>
+
+<p>“He is, oh?” gulped down Sheriff Grease. “I’ll bet he won’t. I’ll
+protest against that, right from the start.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dave will be our chief of detectives, if you protest all night
+and some more in the morning,” returned Tom Reade. “And Dave,
+I reckon, is going to need a force of at least forty men under
+him. Dave will be rather important in the county, won’t he, sheriff,
+if he has forty men under him who feel a good deal like voting the
+way that Dave believes? A forty-man boss is quite a little figure
+in politics, isn’t he, sheriff?”</p>
+
+<p>Grease turned nearly purple in the face, choking and sputtering
+in his wrath.</p>
+
+<p>“Come along, Dave, and see if that job as chief detective is open
+today,” urged Tom, drawing one arm through Fulsbee’s. “If you’re
+interested in knowing the news, sheriff, you might wait.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll——-” ground out Grease, gritting his teeth and clenching
+one fist. Tom waited patiently for the county officer to finish.
+Then, as he didn’t go further, Reade rejoined, half mockingly:</p>
+
+<p>“Exactly, sheriff. That’s just what I thought you’d do.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Tom dragged Dave down to the headquarters tent, where they
+found the president of the road.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Newnham,” began Tom gravely, “the sheriff has just come to
+camp and has discharged Fulsbee from his force of deputies, just
+because Fulsbee acted as a real law officer and stopped the raid
+on the road. I have told Mr. Fulsbee, before Sheriff Grease, that
+you are going to make him chief of detectives for the road at a
+salary of about six thousand a year.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham displayed his astonishment very openly, though he
+did not speak at first.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all right,” replied President Newnham. “Mr. Fulsbee,
+do you accept the offer of six thousand as chief detective for
+the road,”</p>
+
+<p>“Does a man accept an invitation to eat when he’s hungry?” replied
+Dave rather huskily.</p>
+
+<p>“Then it’s settled,” put in Tom, anxious to clinch the matter,
+for he had a very shrewd idea that he would need Dave badly ere
+long. “Now, Mr. Newnham, until we get everything running smoothly,
+Mr. Fulsbee ought to have a force of about forty men. They will
+cost seventy-five dollars a month, per man, with an allowance
+for horses, forage, etc. Hadn’t Mr. Fulsbee better get his force
+together as soon as possible? For I am certain, sir, that the
+next move by the opposition will be to tear up and blow up our
+tracks at some unguarded points. At the same time, sir, I feel
+certain that we can get far more protection from Chief of Detectives
+Fulsbee’s men than from a man like Sheriff Grease.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade?” returned President Newnham, “it is plain to be seen that
+you lose no time in making your plans or in arranging to put them
+into execution. I imagine you’re right, for you’ve been right in
+everything so far. So arrange with Mr. Fulsbee for whatever you
+think may be needed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, sir,” murmured Tom. Then he signaled Fulsbee to get
+out of the tent, and followed that new official.</p>
+
+<p>“Never hang around, Dave, after you’ve got what you want,” chuckled
+Tom. “Hello, Mr. Sheriff! This is just a line to tell you that
+Fulsbee has a steady job with the company, and that he’ll need
+the services of at least forty men, all of whom must be voters
+in this county. The pay will be seventy-five a month and keep, with
+extra allowance for horses.”</p>
+
+<p>Sheriff Grease didn’t look much more pleasant than he felt.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you homeward bound—-when you go?” continued Reade.</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Then you might spread the word that men are needed, and tell
+the best men to apply to Dave Fulsbee, at this camp,” suggested
+Tom. “Be strong on the point that all applicants have to be voters
+in this county.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will,” nodded the sheriff, choking down his wrath by a great
+effort. “Dave won’t have any trouble in getting good men when
+I spread the word. You’re a mighty good fellow, Dave. I always
+said it,” added the sheriff. “I’m sorry I had to be rough with
+you, but—-but——-”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course we understand here that orders from a political boss
+have to be obeyed,” Tom added good-naturedly. “We won’t over-blame
+you, Mr. Grease.”</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff rode away, Tom’s smiling eyes following him.</p>
+
+<p>“That touch about your having forty voters at your beck and call
+must have stuck in the honorable sheriff’s crop, Dave,” chuckled
+the cub chief engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“I reckon it does,” drawled Dave. “A man like Grease can’t understand
+that a man of my kind wouldn’t ask any fellow working for him
+what ticket he voted for on election day. You certainly hit the
+sheriff hard, Mr. Reade. In the first place, six thousand a year
+is a lot more money than the sheriff gets himself. Forty voters
+are fully as many as he can control, for which reason Grease,
+in his mind’s eye, sees me winning his office away from him any day
+that I want to do so.”</p>
+
+<p>Ere three days had passed Sheriff Grease had lost fully half of
+his own force, and some of his controlled voters as well, for many
+of his deputies flocked to serve under Dave Fulsbee. The rest of
+the needed detectives also came in, and Dave was soon busy posting
+his men to patrol the S.B. &amp; L. and protect the workers against any
+more raids by armed men.</p>
+
+<p>After a fortnight student Reynolds recovered sufficiently to be sent
+to Denver, there to complete his work of recovering from his wound.
+President Newnham also saw to it that Reynolds was well repaid for
+his services.</p>
+
+<p>The camp moved on. Soon Lineville was sighted from the advanced
+camp of the engineers. As Lineville was to be the western terminus
+of the new railroad the work of the field party was very nearly
+finished.</p>
+
+<p>President Newnham, who was all anxiety to see the first train run
+over the road, remained with the field engineers.</p>
+
+<p>“I couldn’t sleep at night, if I were anywhere else than here,”
+explained the president, “though I feel assured now that the W.C.
+&amp; A. will make no more efforts, in the way of violence; to prevent
+us from finishing the building of the road.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you’re more trustful than I am,” smiled Tom Reade. “What’s
+worrying me most of all is that I can’t quite fathom in what way
+the W.C. &amp; A’s gloom department will plan to stop us. That they
+have some plan—-and a rascally one—-I’m as certain, sir, as I am
+that I’m now speaking with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Has Fulsbee any suspicions?” inquired Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Loads of ’em,” declared Tom promptly.</p>
+
+<p>“What does he think the W.C. &amp; A. will try to do?”</p>
+
+<p>“Dave’s suspicions, Mr. Newnham, aren’t any more definite than mine.
+He feels certain, however, that we’re going to have a hard fight
+before we get the road through.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I hope the opposition won’t be able to prevent us from finishing,”
+murmured Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, the enemy won’t be able to hinder us,” replied Tom confidently.
+“You have a Fulsbee and a Reade on the job, sir. Don’t worry.
+I’m not doing any real worrying, and I promise you that I’m not
+going to be beaten.”</p>
+
+<p>“It will be a genuine wonder if Reade is beaten,” reflected Mr.
+Newnham, watching the cub’s athletic figure as Tom walked through
+the centre of the camp. “I never knew a man of any age who was
+more resourceful or sure to win than this same cub, Tom Reade,
+whose very name was unknown to me a few weeks ago. Yet I shiver!
+I can’t help it. Men just as resourceful as Tom Reade are sometimes
+beaten to a finish!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX<br><span class="small">MR. NEWNHAM DROPS A BOMB</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The field work was done. Yet the field engineers were not dismissed.
+Instead, they were sent back along the line. The construction
+gang was still twelve miles out of Lineville, and the time allowed
+by the charter was growing short.</p>
+
+<p>At Denver certain politicians seemed to have very definite information
+that the S.B. &amp; L. R.R., was not going to finish the building of
+the road and the operating of the first through train within charter
+time.</p>
+
+<p>Where these politicians had obtained their news they did not take the
+trouble to state.</p>
+
+<p>However, they seemed positive that, under the terms of the charter,
+the state would take over as much of the railroad as was finished,
+pay an appraisal price for it, and then turn the road over to
+the W.C. &amp; A. promoters to finish and use as part of their own
+railway system.</p>
+
+<p>These same politicians, by the way, were a handful of keen,
+unscrupulous men who derived their whole income from politics, and
+who had always been identified with movements that the better
+people of the state usually opposed.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurston and his assistant, Blaisdell, were now able to be
+up and to move about a little, but were not yet able to travel
+forward to the point that the construction force had now reached.
+Neither Thurston nor Blaisdell was in fit shape to work, and
+would not be for some weeks to come.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham, who had learned in these weeks to ride a horse, came
+along in saddle as Tom and Harry stood watching the field camp
+that was now being rapidly taken down by the few men left behind.</p>
+
+<p>“Idling, as usual, Reade?” smiled the president of the road.</p>
+
+<p>“This time I seem to have a real excuse, sir,” chuckled Tom.
+“My work is finished. There isn’t a blessed thing that I could
+do, if I wanted to. By tomorrow I suppose you will be paying
+me off and letting me go.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let you go—-before the road is running?” demanded Mr. Newnham,
+in astonishment. “Reade, have you noted any signs of my mind
+failing lately?”</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then why should you imagine that I am going to let my chief engineer
+go before the road is in operations”</p>
+
+<p>“But I was acting chief, sir, only of the field work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” continued Mr. Newnham, “I have something to tell you.
+Thurston has left our employ. So has Blaisdell. They are not
+dissatisfied in any way, but neither man is yet fit to work.
+Besides, both are tired of the mountains, and want to go east
+together as soon as possible and take up some other line of
+engineering work. So—-well, Reade, if you want it, you are
+now chief engineer of the S.B. &amp; L. in earnest.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t trifle with me, sir!” begged Tom incredulously. “I’m too
+far from home.”</p>
+
+<p>“No one has ever accused me of being a humorist,” replied Mr.
+Newnham dryly. “Now tell me, Reade, whether you want the post I
+have offered you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Want it?” echoed Tom. “Of course I do. Yet doesn’t it seem
+too ‘fresh’ in a cub like myself to take such a post?”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve won it,” replied the president. “It’s also true that
+you’re only a cub engineer in years, and there are many greater
+engineers than yourself in the country. You have executive ability,
+however, Reade. You are able to start a thing, and then put it
+through on time—-or before. The executive is the type of man who
+is most needed in this or any other country.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is an executive a lazy fellow who can make others work!” asked
+Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“No; an executive is a man who can choose other men, and can wisely
+direct them to big achievements. An executive is a director of
+fine team play. That describes you, Reade. However—-you haven’t
+yet accepted the position as chief engineer of the S.B. &amp; L.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll end your suspense then, sir,” smiled the cub. “I _do_ accept,
+and with a big capital ‘A’.”</p>
+
+<p>“As to your salary,” continued Mr. Newnham, “nothing has been
+said about that, and nothing need be said until we see whether
+the road is operating in season to save its charter. If we save
+our charter and the road, your salary will be in line with the
+size of the achievement.”</p>
+
+<p>“If we should lose the charter, sir,” Tom retorted, his face clouding,
+“I don’t believe I’d take any interest in the salary question.
+Money is a fine thing, but the game—-the battle—-is twenty
+times more interesting. However, I’m going to predict, Mr. Newnham,
+that the road WILL operate on time.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe you’re going to make good, Reade, no matter what a
+small coterie of politicians at Denver may think. I never met
+a man who had success stamped more plainly on his face than you
+have. By the way, I shall ask you to keep Mr. Howe as an assistant.
+You still have the appointment of one other assistant, in place
+of Mr. Blaisdell.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know the fellow I’d like to appoint,” cried Tom eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“If you’re sure about him, then go ahead and appoint him,” responded
+the president of the S.B. &amp; L. railway.</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton!” proclaimed Tom. “Good, old dependable Harry Hazelton!”</p>
+
+<p>“Hazelton would be a wise choice,” nodded Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry!” called Reade, as his chum appeared in the distance.
+“Come here hustle!”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Newnham turned away as Hazelton came forward. Tom quickly
+told his chum the news.</p>
+
+<p>“I? Assistant chief engineer?” gasped Harry, turning red. “Whew,
+but that’s great! However, I’m not afraid of falling down, Tom,
+with you to steer me. What’s the pay of the new job!”</p>
+
+<p>“Not decided,” rejoined Tom. “Wait until we get the road through
+and the charter is safe.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind the wages. The job’s the thing, after all!” cried
+Harry, his face aglow. “Whew! I’ll send a letter home tonight
+with the news.”</p>
+
+<p>“Make it a small post card, then, concealed under a postage stamp,”
+counseled Reade dryly. “We’ve work ahead of us—-not writing.”</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the first thing you’re going to do?” inquired Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“The first thing will be to get on the job.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re going back to the construction force?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am.”</p>
+
+<p>“When?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we start within five minutes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Whew!”</p>
+
+<p>His face still aglow with happiness, Harry Hazelton bounded off
+to his tent. Tom called to one of the men to saddle two horses,
+and then followed.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re going back to the construction camp?” inquired Mr. Newnham,
+looking in at the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“As fast as horses can take us, sir,” Tom replied, as he whipped
+out a clean flannel shirt and drew it over his head.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m going with you,” replied Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ll ride fast, if you go with us, sir,” called Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“I can stand it, if you can, Reade. Your enthusiasm and speed
+are ‘catching,’” replied the president, with a laugh, as he started
+off to give orders about his horse.</p>
+
+<p>“If the president is going with us, then we’ll have to take two
+of Dave Fulsbee’s men with us,” mused Tom aloud to his chum.
+“It would never do to have our president captured just before
+we’re ready to open the road to traffic.”</p>
+
+<p>The orders were accordingly given. Tom then appointed one of
+the chainmen to command the camp until the construction gang came up.</p>
+
+<p>Just seven minutes after he had given the first order, Tom Reade
+was in saddle. Hazelton was seated on another horse some thirty
+seconds afterward. The two railroad detectives rode forward,
+halting near by, and all waited for Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did the president of the S.B. &amp; L. delay them long. During
+his weeks in camp in the Rockies the man from Broadway had learned
+something of the meaning of the word “hustle.”</p>
+
+<p>As the party started Tom ordered one of the detectives to ride
+two hundred yards in advance of the party, the other the same
+distance to the rear.</p>
+
+<p>“Set a good pace, and keep it,” called Tom along the trail.
+Shortly after dark the party reached the construction camp, which
+now numbered about five hundred men.</p>
+
+<p>Assistant Chief Engineer Howe appeared more than a little astonished
+when he learned that Tom Reade was the actual chief engineer of
+the road. However, the man who had been in charge so far of the
+construction work made no fuss about being supplanted.</p>
+
+<p>“Show me what part of the work you want me to handle,” offered
+Howe, “and you’ll find me right with you, Mr. Reade.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you,” responded Tom, holding out his hand. “I’m glad you
+feel no jealousy or resentment. There’s just one thing in life
+for all of us, now, and that is to win the fight.”</p>
+
+<p>Howe produced the plans and reports, and the three—-for Hazelton
+was of their number—-sat up until long after midnight laying out
+plans for pushing the work faster and harder.</p>
+
+<p>At four in the morning, while it was still dark, Tom was up again.
+He sat at the desk, going over the work once more until half
+past five o’clock. Then he called Harry and Howe, and the trio
+of chiefs had a hurried breakfast together.</p>
+
+<p>At six in the morning Mr. Newnham appeared, just in time to find
+Tom and Harry getting into saddle.</p>
+
+<p>“Not going to stay behind and sit in an easy chair this morning,
+Reade?” called the president.</p>
+
+<p>“Not this, or any other morning, sir,” Tom replied.</p>
+
+<p>“You amaze me!”</p>
+
+<p>“This construction work requires more personal attention, sir.
+I may have twenty minutes to dream, in the afternoon, but my
+mornings are mortgaged each day, from four o’clock on.”</p>
+
+<p>An hour later Mr. Howe joined Reade and Hazelton in the field.
+Tom had already prodded three or four foremen, showing them how
+their gangs were losing time.</p>
+
+<p>“If we get the road through on time, and save the charter,” Tom
+called, on leaving each working party, “every laborer and foreman
+is to have an extra week’s pay for his loyalty to us.”</p>
+
+<p>In every instance that statement brought forth a cheer.</p>
+
+<p>“Did Mr. Newnham tell you that you could promise that?” inquired
+Harry.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said Tom shortly.</p>
+
+<p>“Then aren’t you going a bit far, perhaps!”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t care,” retorted Tom. “Victory is the winning of millions;
+defeat is the loss of millions. Do you imagine Mr. Newnham will
+care about a little thing such as I’ve promised the men? Harry,
+our president is a badly worried man, though he doesn’t allow
+himself to show it. Once the road is finished, operating and
+safe, he won’t care what money he has to spend in rewards. He——-”</p>
+
+<p>Tom did not finish his words. Instead he dug his heels into his
+pony, bringing his left hand down hard on that animal’s flank.</p>
+
+<p>“Yi, yi, yi! Git!” called Tom, bending low over his mount’s neck.
+He drove straight ahead. Hazelton looked astonished for a space
+of five seconds, then started in pursuit of his chum and chief.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long ere Tom reined in, holding up a hand as a signal
+to Harry to do the same thing.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, hold my horse, and stay right here,” ordered the young chief.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, what on earth——-”</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade was already a hundred yards away, running in amid the
+brush. At last he halted, studying the ground earnestly. Then
+Reade disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>“One thing I know, anyway,” muttered the puzzled Hazelton, “Tom
+is not crazy, and he doesn’t dash off like that unless he has
+something real on his mind.” The minutes passed. At last Tom
+came back, walking energetically. He took his horse’s bridle
+and leaded into saddle.</p>
+
+<p>“Harry, ride back, hard, and send me two or three of the railroad
+detectives, unless you happen to meet some of them this side of
+the camp. I want the men on the rush. Don’t fail to tell ’em
+that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Any—-er—-explanations” queried Hazelton.</p>
+
+<p>“For you—-yes—-but don’t take the time to pass the explanation
+on to the men. Just hustle ’em here. When I started my horse
+forward it was because I caught sight of ’Gene Black’s head over
+the bush tops. I found a few of his footprints, then lost the
+trail. Send Dave Fulsbee along, too, if you have the luck to
+see him. I want ’Gene Black hunted down before he does some big
+mischief. Now—-ride!”</p>
+
+<p>Harry Hazelton went back over the trail at a gallop.</p>
+
+<p>Not until he reached camp did he come upon Fulsbee’s men. These
+he hustled out to find Tom.</p>
+
+<p>Two hours later Reade came back over the trail, at a slow jog.
+The young chief engineer looked more worried than Hazelton had
+ever seen his chum look before.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI<br><span class="small">THE TRAP AT THE FINISH</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>A number of days passed, days full of worry for the young chief
+engineer. Yet, outwardly, Tom Reade was as good-humored and cheery
+as ever.</p>
+
+<p>He was sure that his eyes had played him no trick, and that he
+really had seen ’Gene Black in the brush.</p>
+
+<p>The presence of that scoundrel persuaded Tom that someone working
+in the interests of the W.C. &amp; A. Railroad Company was still employing
+Black in an attempt to block the successful completion of the
+S.B. &amp; L.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, the news that Dave Fulsbee received from Denver showed
+that two of the officials of the W.C. &amp; A. were in that city,
+apparently ready to proceed to get possession of the rival road.</p>
+
+<p>Politicians asserted that it was a “cinch” that the new road would
+fall short of the charter requirement in the matter of time.</p>
+
+<p>“All this confidence on the part of the enemy is pretty fair proof
+that the scoundrels are up to something,” Tom told Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>“Or else they’re trying to break down our nerve so that we’ll
+fail through sheer collapse,” replied the president of the S.B.
+&amp; L., rubbing his hands nervously. “Reade, why should there be
+such scoundrels in the world?”</p>
+
+<p>“The president is all but completely gone to pieces,” Reade confided
+to his chum. “Say, but I’m glad Mr. Newnham himself isn’t the
+one who has to get the road through in time. If it rested with
+him I’m afraid he’d fizzle. But we’ll pull it through, Harry,
+old chum—-we’ll pull it through.”</p>
+
+<p>“If this thing had to last a month more I’m afraid good old Tom
+would go to pieces himself,” thought Harry, as he watched his
+friend stride away. “Tom never gets to his cot now before eleven
+at night, and four thirty in the morning always finds him astir
+again. I wonder if he thinks he’s fooling me by looking so blamed
+cheerful and talking so confidently. Whew! I’d be afraid for
+poor old Tom’s brain if anything should happen to trip us up.”</p>
+
+<p>Harry himself was anxious, but he was not downright nervous.
+He did not feel things as keenly as did his chum; neither was
+Hazelton directly responsible for the success of the big undertaking.</p>
+
+<p>Mile after mile the construction work stretched. Trains were
+running now for work purposes, nearly as far as the line extended.</p>
+
+<p>The telegraph wires ran into the temporary station building at
+Lineville, and the several operators along the line were busy
+carrying orders through the length of the wire service.</p>
+
+<p>Back at Stormburg, where the railroad line began, three trains
+lay on side tracks. These were passenger trains that were to
+run the entire length of the road as soon as it was opened.</p>
+
+<p>Back at Stormburg, also, the new general superintendent slept
+at his office that he might receive messages from President Newnham
+the more quickly.</p>
+
+<p>At Bakerstown a division superintendent was stationed, he, too,
+sleeping at his office.</p>
+
+<p>Once more Tom Reade had brought his work within sight of Lineville.
+In fact, the track extended all but the last mile of the line.
+Ties were down nearly all of the way to the terminal station.</p>
+
+<p>This was the state of affairs at two o’clock in the afternoon.
+Before midnight the last rail must be laid, and the first through
+train from Stormburg must run in. If, at the stroke of midnight,
+the first train had failed to go through, then the charter of
+the S.B. &amp; L. would be forfeited and subject to seizure and sale
+by the state.</p>
+
+<p>Up from Denver some of the worst politicians had come. They were
+quartered at the new little hotel in Lineville. Dave Fulsbee had
+detailed three of his men covertly to watch these same politicians.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, inwardly consumed with fever, outwardly as cheery as human being
+might be, stood watching the laying of the rails over that last
+stretch. The men who could be prevented from dropping in their tracks
+must work until the last rail had been spiked into place. Away up in
+Lineville Harry Hazelton was personally superintending the laying of
+the last ties.</p>
+
+<p>The honk of an automobile horn caused Tom Reade to glance up.
+Approaching him was President Newnham, himself driving the runabout
+that he had had forwarded.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade!” called the president of the S.B. &amp; L., stopping his car, and
+Tom went over to him.</p>
+
+<p>“The suspense is over, at last, Reade,” exclaimed Mr. Newnham, smiling
+broadly. “Look! the road is all but completed. Hundreds of men are
+toiling. The first train left Stormburg this morning. By seven tonight
+you’ll have the last rails in place. Between eight and nine this
+evening the first through train will have rolled into Lineville and we
+shall have won the fight that has brought me many gray hairs. At last
+the worry is over!”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, sir,” nodded Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade, don’t you really believe that the stress is over—-that
+we shall triumph tonight?”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course we shall, sir,” Tom responded. “I have predicted,
+all along, that we’d have the road through in time, haven’t I?”</p>
+
+<p>“And the credit is nearly all yours, Reade,” admitted Mr. Newnham
+gleefully. “Nearly all yours, lad!”</p>
+
+<p>Honk! honk! Unable to remain long at one spot, Mr. Newnham started
+his car again.</p>
+
+<p>Reade felt a depression that he could not shake off.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s just the reaction following the long train,” Tom tried to
+tell himself. “Whew! Until within the last two or three days
+I haven’t half realized how much the strain was taking out of
+me! I’ll wager I’ll sleep, tonight, after I once have the satisfaction
+of seeing the first train roll in!”</p>
+
+<p>By six o’clock Tom felt as though he could hardly stand up. Be
+wondered if his teeth were really chattering, or whether he merely
+imagined it.</p>
+
+<p>To take up his time Tom tried a brisk canter, away from the railroad.
+At seven o’clock he rode into Lineville.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, Tom!”, bawled Harry, from the centre of a group of workmen.
+“We’ve been looking for you! Come here quickly!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom urged his pony forward to the station from which Hazelton had
+called him.</p>
+
+<p>“Watch this—-just watch it!” begged Harry.</p>
+
+<p>Clank! clank! clank! Tom Reade, gazing in fascination, saw
+the last spike of the last rail being driven into place.</p>
+
+<p>“Two sidetracks and switches already up!” called Harry.</p>
+
+<p>Tom threw his bridle to one of the workmen, then sprang from his
+horse. Out of the station came Mr. Newnham, waving a telegram.</p>
+
+<p>“Our first train, with passengers, has just left the station at
+Brand’s Ranch junction, a hundred and ten miles away,” shouted
+the president of the road. “The train should be here long before
+ten o’clock.”</p>
+
+<p>From the crowd a cheer greeted the announcement.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s nothing left but to wait to win,” continued Mr. Newnham.</p>
+
+<p>Five hundred voices in the crowd cheered the announcement. A
+group of five Denver politicians smiled sardonically.</p>
+
+<p>Tom pushed his way gently through the crowd, glancing inside the
+station. There was no one there, save an operator. Closing the
+door behind him, Tom crossed to a seat and sank wearily upon it.</p>
+
+<p>Here he sat for some minutes, to be discovered by the telegraph
+operator when the latter came out to light the lamps in the waiting
+room.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade is all in, I guess,” thought the operator. “I don’t
+wonder. I hope he goes to sleep where he sits.”</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later the receiver of one of the up the terminal station.
+The operator broke in, sending back his response. Then a telegram
+came, which he penned on paper.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade,” called the operator, “this is for you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom sat up, brushing his eyes, and read:</p>
+
+<p>“If you can spare time wish you would ride down track to point
+about two miles west of Miller’s where brook crosses under roadbed.
+Have something to show you that will interest you. Nothing serious,
+but will fill you with wonder. My men all along line report all
+safe and going well. Come at once.” (signed) “Dave Fulsbee.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom’s first instinct was to start and tremble. He felt sure that
+Fulsbee had bad news and was trying to conceal the fact until
+he could see the young chief engineer in person.</p>
+
+<p>“But that’s really not Dave’s way,” Reade told himself in the
+next breath. “Fulsbee talks straight out from the shoulder.
+What has he to show me, I wonder! Gracious, how tired I am!
+If Fulsbee knew just how I feel at this moment he wouldn’t send
+for me. But of course he doesn’t know.”</p>
+
+<p>Stepping outside, Tom looked about, espying his pony standing
+where it had been tied to one of the porch pillars of the station.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll get Harry to ride with me,” Reade thought, but he found
+his chum engaged in testing a stretch of rails near the station,
+a dozen of the college students with him.</p>
+
+<p>“Pshaw! I’m strong enough to ride five miles alone,” muttered
+Tom. “Thank goodness my horse hasn’t been used up. Never mind,
+Tom Reade. To-morrow you can ride as far as you like on the railroad,
+with never a penny of fare to pay, either!”</p>
+
+<p>Unnoticed, the young chief engineer untied his horse in the dark,
+mounted and rode away.</p>
+
+<p>How dark and long the way seemed. Truth to tell, Tom Reade was
+very close to the collapse that seemed bound to follow the reaction
+once his big task was safely over. Only his strength of will
+sustained him. He gripped the pony’s sides with his knees.</p>
+
+<p>“I wouldn’t want anyone to see me riding in this fashion!” muttered
+the lad. “I must look worse than a tenderfoot. Why, I’ll be
+really glad if Dave Fulsbee can ride back with me. I had no idea
+he was so near. I believed him to be at least fifty or sixty
+miles down the line.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom was nearing the place appointed when a sudden whistle rang
+out from the brush beside the track.</p>
+
+<p>Then half a dozen men leaped out into view in the darkness, two
+of them seizing the bridle of his horse.</p>
+
+<p>“Good evening, Reade!” called the mocking voice of ’Gene Black.
+“Down this way to see your first train go through? Stay with
+us, and we’ll show you how it doesn’t get through—-not tonight!”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII<br><span class="small">“CAN YOUR ROAD SAVE ITS CHARTER NOW?”</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“Oh, I guess the train will go through, all right,” replied Tom
+Reade, with much more confidence expressed in his tone than he
+really felt.</p>
+
+<p>“Stay with us and see it go through,” mocked ’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“If it’s just the same to you I’d rather ride on,” Tom proposed.</p>
+
+<p>“But it isn’t all the same to us,” Black chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I guess I prefer to ride on, anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t, though,” snapped Black. “You’ll get off that horse
+and do as we tell you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Eh?” demanded the young chief engineer. He appeared astonished,
+though he was not.</p>
+
+<p>“You came down the line to meet your railroad detective, Fulsbee,”
+Black continued sneeringly. “You’d better give it up.”</p>
+
+<p>“You seem to think you know a good deal about my business,” Tom
+continued.</p>
+
+<p>“I know all about the telegram,” ’Gene retorted. “I sent it—-or
+ordered it sent.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom started in earnest this time.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you ever hear of ways of cutting out a telegraph wire and
+then attaching one of the cut ends to a box relay?” queried the
+scoundrel.</p>
+
+<p>“I—-I believe I have heard of some such thing,” Reade hesitated.
+“Was that the trick you played on me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” nodded Gene Black. “We cut the wire just below here.
+We’ve got a box relay on the wire going both ways. Your operators
+can’t use the wire much tonight. Your company can’t use it from
+Lineville at all.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom’s face showed his dismay. ’Gene Black laughed in intense
+enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>“So you cut the wire, oh, and attached box relays?”</p>
+
+<p>“Surely,” Black nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad you confess it,” replied Tom slowly. “Cutting telegraph
+wires, or attaching box relays without proper authority is a felony.
+The punishment is a term in state’s prison.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bosh!” sneered Black. “With all the political pull our crowd
+has behind it do you suppose we fear a little thing like that?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll talk the crime over with Dave Fulsbee,” Tom continued.</p>
+
+<p>“A lot of good Fulsbee will do you,” jeered ’Gene. “We have him
+attended to as well as we have you.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a lie,” Reade declared coolly.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you want us to show him to you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” nodded Tom. “You’d have to show me Dave Fulsbee before
+I’d believe you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yank the cub off that horse!” ordered ’Gene Black harshly.</p>
+
+<p>Three or four men seized Reade, dragging him out of the saddle
+and throwing him to earth. Tom did not resist, for he saw other
+men standing about with revolvers in their hands. He did not
+believe that this desperate crew of worthless characters would
+hesitate long about drilling holes through him.</p>
+
+<p>“Take the horse, you, and ride it away,” directed Black, turning
+to one of the men, who promptly mounted and rode off into the
+darkness. “Tie that cub’s hands behind him,” was Black’s next
+order. “Now, bring him along.”</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black led the way back from the track and into the woods
+for a few rods. Then the party wheeled, going eastward in a line
+parallel with the track.</p>
+
+<p>Tom did not speak during the journey. It was not his nature to
+use words where they would be worse than wasted.</p>
+
+<p>After proceeding a quarter of a mile or so, Black parted the bushes
+of a dense thicket and led the way inside. At the centre the
+brush had been cleaned out, clearing a circular space about twenty
+feet in diameter and dimly lighted by a lantern placed in the
+centre of the inclosure.</p>
+
+<p>“A snug little place, Reade,” chuckled the scoundrel, turning about
+as Reade was piloted into the retreat. “How do you like it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I like the place a whole lot better than the company,” Tom answered
+promptly.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with the company?” jeered Black.</p>
+
+<p>“A hangman would feel more at home in a crowd like this.”</p>
+
+<p>“See here, cub! Don’t you try to get funny,” warned Black, his
+eyes snapping dangerously. “If you attempt any of your impudence
+here you’ll soon find out who’s master.”</p>
+
+<p>“Master?” scoffed Tom, his own eyes flashing. “Black, do you
+draw any comfort from feeling that you’re boss of such an outfit?
+Though I daresay that the outfit is better than its boss. However,
+you asked my opinion, and you got it. I’ll give you a little
+more of my opinion, Black, and it won’t cost you a cent.”</p>
+
+<p>He looked steadily into his enemy’s eyes as he continued:</p>
+
+<p>“Black, a good, clean dog wouldn’t willingly stand by this crowd!”</p>
+
+<p>Thump! ’Gene Blacks clenched fist landed in Reade’s face, knocking
+him down.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you,” murmured Reade, as he sat up.</p>
+
+<p>“Much obliged, are you?” jeered Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” admitted Tom. “As far as it goes. That was a coward’s
+act—-to have a fellow’s hands tied before daring to hit him.”</p>
+
+<p>Black’s face now turned livid with passion.</p>
+
+<p>“Lift the fool to his feet, if he wants to stand,” ordered Black
+savagely. “He’s trying to make me waste my time talking to him.
+Operator, call up Brewster’s and ask if he held the train as
+ordered by wire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oho!” thought Tom. “So that’s your trick? You have the wire
+in your control, and you’re sending supposed train orders holding
+the train at a station so that it can’t get through You’re a worse
+scoundrel than I thought!”</p>
+
+<p>Off at the edge of the brush, on the inner side, a telegraph instrument
+had been set up on a barrel. From the instrument a wire ran toward
+the track.</p>
+
+<p>In another moment the sounder of the sender was clicking busily.
+There was a pause, then the answer came back:
+Click-click-click-clickety-click!</p>
+
+<p>The operator, a seedy-looking fellow over whose whole appearance
+was written the word “worthless,” swung a lantern so that the light
+fell on a pad of paper before him. Pencil in hand, he took off the
+message as it came.</p>
+
+<p>“Come over here and read it, sir?” inquired the operator.</p>
+
+<p>Black crossed, bending over the sheet. Despite himself the scoundrel
+started. Then he moved so that the light should not fall across
+his face. Plainly Black was greatly disappointed. He swallowed
+hard, then strolled back to the main group, of which Tom was one.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s the way to do business,” announced ’Gene Black, with a
+chuckle. “We sent fake train orders from the top of that barrel,
+and your own railroad operator handed the orders to the conductor
+of your through train. Therefore the train is switched off on
+to the side track at Brewster’s, and the engineer, under the false
+orders, is allowing his steam to cool. Now, do you believe you
+will get your train through tonight?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes!” yawned Tom coolly. “For you are lying. The message
+that came back over the wire from our operator at Brewster’s read
+in these words: ‘Showed your order to train conductor. He refused
+order, saying that it was not signed properly. Train has proceeded.’”</p>
+
+<p>It was an incautious speech for Tom Reade Black fairly glared into
+his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“So you can pick up telegraph messages by the sounds” ’Gene demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“’Most anyone can who has ever worked over a telegraph key,” Tom
+admitted.</p>
+
+<p>Now that the secret was out, Black plainly showed his anger over
+the fact that the conductor had refused train orders at Brewster’s.
+“You S.B. &amp; L. fellows have put up some trick to beat us off!” he
+declared, looking accusingly into Tom’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“What of it?” Reade inquired. “It’s our railroad, isn’t it? Can’t
+we do what we please with our own road?”</p>
+
+<p>“It won’t be your road after tonight!” Black insisted, grinding
+his teeth in his rage. “Fortunately, we have other ways of stopping
+that train from getting through. You’ll soon know it, too.”</p>
+
+<p>Black called to the tramp operator.</p>
+
+<p>“My man, call up the box relay fellow below here.”</p>
+
+<p>The sounder clicked busily for some moments. “I have the other
+box relay man,” declared the operator.</p>
+
+<p>“Then send this, very carefully,” Black continued hoarsely:
+“X-x-x—-a-a-a—-b-b-b.”</p>
+
+<p>The operator repeated it. Black nodded. Once more the instrument
+clicked.</p>
+
+<p>“The other box relay man signals that he has it,” nodded Black’s
+present operator.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen! Everyone of you! Not a sound in this outfit,” commanded
+’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>For fully three minutes the intense silence continued. Then Black
+turned again to the operator, saying:</p>
+
+<p>“Ask the other box relay man if anything has happened near him?”</p>
+
+<p>A minute later Black’s operator reported:</p>
+
+<p>“He says: ‘Yes; happened successfully.’”</p>
+
+<p>“Good!” laughed Black, a look of fierce Joy lighting up his eyes.
+“Now, Reade, I guess you’ll admit yourself beaten. An electric
+spark has touched off a charge of giant powder under the roadbed.
+The rails have been blown skyward and a big hole torn out of
+the roadbed itself. Even if you had a wrecking crew at the spot
+at this moment the road couldn’t be prepared for traffic inside
+of twenty-four hours. NOW, will your through train reach Lineville
+tonight? Can your road save its charter _now_?”</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade’s face turned deathly white.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black stood before him, gazing tauntingly into the eyes
+of the Young Chief engineer.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII<br><span class="small">BLACK’S TRUMP CARD</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“You scoundrel—-you unhung imitation of Satan himself!” gasped
+Reade, great beads of perspiration standing out on his face.</p>
+
+<p>“Oho! We’re fools, are we?” sneered Black “We’re people whom
+you can beat with your cheap little tricks about a different signature
+for each station on the line, are we? For that was why the conductor
+refused the false order at Brewster’s. He has a code of signatures
+for train orders—-a different signature to be used for messages
+at each station?”</p>
+
+<p>Black’s keen mind had solved the reason for the conductor’s refusal
+to hold his train on a siding. The conductor _had_ been supplied
+with a code list of signatures—-a different one for each station
+along the line.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, you know,” mocked Black, enjoying every line of anxiety
+written on Tom Reade’s face, “that we have you knocked silly.
+You know, now, that your train can’t get through by tonight—-probably
+not even by tomorrow night. You realize at last—-eh?—-that
+you’ve lost your train and your charter—-your railroad?”</p>
+
+<p>“I wasn’t thinking of the train, or of the road,” Tom groaned.
+“What I’m thinking of is the train, traveling at high speed,
+running into that blown-out place. The train will be ditched
+and the crew killed. A hundred and fifty passengers with them—-many
+of them state officials. Oh, Black, I wouldn’t dare stand in
+your shoes now! The whole state—-the entire country—-will unite
+in running you down. You can never hope to escape the penalty
+of your crime!”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you talking about?” sneered Black. “Do you think I’m
+fool enough to ditch the train? No, sir! Don’t believe it.
+I’m not running my neck into a noose of that kind. A cluster
+of red lights has been spread along the track before the blow-out.
+The engineer will see the signals and pull his train up—-he
+has to, by law! No one on the train will be hurt, but the train
+simply can’t get through!”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, if the train is safe, I don’t care so much,” replied Reade,
+the color slowly returning to his face. “As for getting through
+tonight, the S.B. &amp; L. has a corps of engineers and a full staff
+in other departments. Black, you’ll lose after all your trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” muttered Black unbelievingly. “Your train will have
+to get through in less than three hours, Reade!”</p>
+
+<p>“It’ll do it, somehow,” smiled Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; your engineers will bring it through, somehow,” taunted
+Black. “We have the chief of that corps with us right now.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all right,” retorted Tom. “You’re welcome to me, if I
+can be of any real comfort to you. But you forget that you haven
+it my assistant. Harry Hazelton is at large, among his own friends.
+Harry will see the train through tonight. Never worry.”</p>
+
+<p>Click-click-click-click! sounded the machine on the barrel.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s the division superintendent at Lineville, calling up Brewster’s,”
+announced the operator.</p>
+
+<p>“Answer for Brewster, then,” directed Black. “Let us see what the
+division super wants, anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>More clicking followed, after which the operator explained:</p>
+
+<p>“Division super asks Brewster if through train has passed there.”</p>
+
+<p>“Answer, ‘Yes; twelve minutes ago,’” directed Black.</p>
+
+<p>The instrument clicked furiously for a few moments.</p>
+
+<p>“The division super keeps sending, ‘Sign, sign, sign!’” explained
+the operator at the barrel. “So I’ve kept on signing ‘Br,’ ‘Br,’
+over and over again. That’s the proper signature for Brewster’s.”</p>
+
+<p>Again the machine clicked noisily.</p>
+
+<p>“Still insisting on the signature,” grinned the operator uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know the name of the operator at Brewster’s?” demanded
+’Gene Black.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” nodded the man at the barrel. “The operator at Brewster’s
+is a chap named Havens.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then send the signature, ‘Havens, operator, Brewster’s,” ordered Black.</p>
+
+<p>Still the machine clicked insistently.</p>
+
+<p>“Super still yells for my signature,” explained the man at the
+barrel desk. “He demands to know whether I’m really the operator
+at Brewster’s, or whether I’ve broken in on the wire at some other
+point.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t answer the division super any further, then,” snorted Black
+disgustedly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, with his ability to read messages, was enjoying the whole
+situation until Black, with a sudden flash of his eyes, turned upon
+the cub chief engineer.</p>
+
+<p>“Reade,” he hissed, “you must know the proper signature for tonight
+for the operator at Brewster’s to use.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing doing,” grunted Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us that signature the right one for Brewster’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing doing,” Tom repeated.</p>
+
+<p>“Put a pistol muzzle to his ear and see his memory brighten,”
+snarled the scoundrel.</p>
+
+<p>One of the hard-looking men behind Tom obeyed. Reade, it must
+be confessed, shivered slightly when he felt the cold touch of
+steel behind his ear.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us the proper signature!” insisted ’Gene.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing doing,” Tom insisted.</p>
+
+<p>“Give us the right signature, or take the consequences!”</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t give it to you,” Tom replied steadily. “I don’t know
+the signature.”</p>
+
+<p>“You lie!”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom had gotten his drawl back.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you want to have the trigger of that pistol pulled?” cried
+’Gene Black hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>“I certainly don’t,” Tom confessed. “Neither do I doubt that
+you fellows are scoundrels enough to do such a trick. However,
+I can’t help you, even though I have to lose my life for my ignorance.
+I honestly don’t know the right signature for Brewster’s tonight.
+That information doesn’t belong to the engineering department,
+anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>“Shall I pull the trigger, Black?” asked the man who held the
+weapon to Reade’s head.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; if he doesn’t soon come to his senses,” snarled Black.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve already told you,” persisted Tom, “that I couldn’t give
+you the proper signature, even if I wanted to—-which I don’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“You may be glad to talk before we’re through with you tonight,”
+threatened Black. “The time for trifling is past. Either give
+us that signature or else prepare to take the consequences. For
+the last time, are you going to answer my question?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve told you the truth,” Reade insisted. “If you won’t believe
+me, then there is nothing more to be said.”</p>
+
+<p>“You lie, if you insist that you don’t know the signatures for
+tonight!” cried Black savagely.</p>
+
+<p>“All right, then,” sighed Tom. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”</p>
+
+<p>From off in the distance came the shrill too-oo-oot! of a locomotive.
+Tom Reade heard, and, despite his fears for his safety, an exclamation
+of joy escaped him.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you needn’t build any false hopes,” sneered Black. “That
+whistle doesn’t come from the through train. It’s one of the
+locomotives that the S.B. &amp; L. had delivered over the D.V. &amp; S.,
+which makes a junction with your road at Lineville. A locomotive
+or a train at the Lineville end won’t help your crowd any. That
+isn’t the through train required by the charter. The S.B. &amp; L.
+loses the game, just the same.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” Tom argued. “The S.B. &amp; L. road was finished
+within charter time. No railroad can get a train through if the
+opposition sends out men to dynamite the tracks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” jeered Black maliciously. “That dynamited roadbed won’t
+save your crowd. The opposition can make it plain enough that
+your crowd dynamited its own roadbed through a well-founded fear
+that the tracks clear through weren’t strong enough to stand the
+passing of a train. Don’t be afraid, Reader the enemies of your
+road will know how to explain the dynamiting this side of Brewster’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a question for tomorrow, Black,” rejoined Tom Reade.
+“No man can ever tell, today, what tomorrow will bring forth.”</p>
+
+<p>Too-oo-oot! sounded a locomotive whistle again. One of the men
+in the thicket threw himself to the ground, pressing his ear to
+the earth.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a train, or a locomotive, at least, coming this way from
+Lineville, boss,” reported the fellow.</p>
+
+<p>“A train?” gasped Black. Then his face cleared. “Oh, well, even
+if it’s a fully equipped wrecking train, it can’t get the road
+mended in time to bring the through train in before midnight,
+as the charter demands.”</p>
+
+<p>Now the train from Lineville came closer, and the whirr of its
+approach was audible along the steel rails. The engine’s bell
+was clanging steadily, too, after the manner of the engines of
+“specials.”</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black crowded to the outer edge of the thicket, peering
+through intently. The bright headlight of an approaching locomotive
+soon penetrated this part of the forest. Then the train rolled
+swiftly by.</p>
+
+<p>“Humph!” muttered Black. “Only an engine, a baggage car and one
+day coach. That kind of train can’t carry much in the way of
+relief.”</p>
+
+<p>As the train passed out of sight the engine sent back a screeching
+whistle.</p>
+
+<p>“The engineer is laughing at you, Black,” jeered Tom.</p>
+
+<p>“Let him,” sneered the other. “I have the good fortune to know
+where the laugh belongs.”</p>
+
+<p>Toot! toot! too-oot-oot! Something else was coming down the track
+from Lineville. Then it passed the beholders in the thicket—-a full
+train of engine and seven cars.</p>
+
+<p>“Good old Harry Hazelton!” glowed Tom Reade. “I’ll wager that
+was Harry’s thought—-a pilot ahead, and then the real train!”</p>
+
+<p>“Small good it will do,” laughed ’Gene Black disagreeably.</p>
+
+<p>Then, a new thought striking him, he added:</p>
+
+<p>“Bill Hoskins, you and some of the men get the dynamite under
+the track opposite here. You know how to do it! Hustle!”</p>
+
+<p>“You bet I know how,” growled Bill eagerly, as he stepped forward,
+picking out the fellows he wanted as his helpers. “I’ll have
+the blast against the roadbed here ready in five minutes, Black.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, you’ll have three trains stalled along the line tonight,
+Cub Reade,” laughed Black sneeringly. “Getting any train as
+far as this won’t count for a copper’s worth! Your road has
+to get a through train all the way into Lineville before midnight.
+We’ll blow out the roadbed here, and then where are you?”</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV<br><span class="small">CONCLUSION</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>At these words even the brief hope that had been in Tom Reade’s
+mind, died out.</p>
+
+<p>With the roadbed gone at this point also, he did not see the slightest
+chance for the S.B. &amp; L. to save its charter or its property rights.</p>
+
+<p>“Here’s the racketty stuff,” went on Hoskins, indicating the boxes.
+“That small box has the fuses. Get the stuff along, and I’ll lay
+the magneto wire.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not quite so hastily!” sternly broke in a new voice.</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade fairly yelled for joy, for the new speaker, as he knew
+at the first sound, was Dave Fulsbee.</p>
+
+<p>The amazed and dismayed scoundrels huddled closer together for a
+moment in the middle of the thicket.</p>
+
+<p>“Spread, men! Don’t let one of ’em get out alive!” sounded Dave
+Fulsbee’s voice.</p>
+
+<p>The scurrying steps of Fulsbee’s men could be heard apparently
+surrounding the thicket.</p>
+
+<p>With an exclamation of rage, Black made a dash for freedom.</p>
+
+<p>“Stand where you are, Black, if you want to live!” warned Dave.
+“No use to make a kick you rascals! We’ve got you covered, and
+the first man who makes a move will eat his breakfast in another
+world. Now, listen to me. One at a time you fellows step up
+to me, drop your weapons on the ground, where I can see you do
+it, and then come out here, one at a time. No tricks—-for, remember,
+you are covered by my men out here. We don’t want to shoot the
+whole lot of you up unless we have to, but we won’t stand for
+any fooling. Reade, you come through first. Any man who offers
+to hinder Mr. Reade will be sorry he took the trouble—-that’s
+all!”</p>
+
+<p>His heart bounding with joy, Tom stepped through the thicket,
+going straight toward the sound of Fulsbee’s voice.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve got a knife in my left hand,” announced Fulsbee, as Tom
+neared him in the dark. “Turn around so that I can cut the cords
+at your wrists.”</p>
+
+<p>In a moment this was done.</p>
+
+<p>“You might stay here and help me,” whispered Dave. Tom nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Black, you can be the first,” called Dave in a brisk,
+business-like tone. “Step up here and drop your weapons on the ground.”</p>
+
+<p>Wincing under a bitter sense of defeat, ’Gene Black stepped forward.
+He was not really a coward, but he valued his life, little as it was
+actually worth. So he dropped a revolver to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“What I have to say to you, Black, applies to the others,” Dave
+continued from outside the thicket. “If any man among you doesn’t drop
+all his weapons, we’ll make it lively for him when we get him out here.”</p>
+
+<p>A look of malignant hate crossed his face, then ’Gene Black dropped
+also a knife to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“Come on out, Black,” directed Dave Fulsbee. “Mr. Reade, will
+you oblige me by running your hands over the fellow’s clothing
+to see if he, has any more weapons.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom promptly complied. A hasty search revealed no other weapons.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, step right along over there, Black, where you’ll find two
+of my men,” nodded Dave Fulsbee.</p>
+
+<p>Again Black obeyed. He saw, dimly, two men some yards further
+away in the darkness and joined them.</p>
+
+<p>Click-click! Then the scoundrel cried out in the bitterness of
+his rage, for the two railway detectives had handcuffed him.</p>
+
+<p>“You, with the black hair, next,” summoned Fulsbee, his vision
+aided by the lantern in the centre of the thicket. “You come
+here, but first stop and drop your weapons on the pile—-all the
+trouble-makers you happen to have.”</p>
+
+<p>Thus they came, one at a time, the operator being the last of
+all. The crowd of prisoners under guard of the two railway detectives
+grew steadily, and each was handcuffed as he reached the detectives
+after having been searched by Tom Reade.</p>
+
+<p>“Good job,” nodded Dave coolly, as he am approached the captives.
+“Now, we have you all under lock and key. My, but you’re a
+pretty-looking outfit!”</p>
+
+<p>“Come on, men. March ’em up the track. Then we’ll come back,
+or send someone else after the dynamite and other stuff. That’ll
+be handy as evidence.”</p>
+
+<p>Guarded by Fulsbee and his two detectives, the prisoners marched
+along a few rods.</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Reade,” called Dave, pointing, “you’ll find your horse tied
+to that tree yonder. I reckon you’ll be glad to get in saddle
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, Tom was glad. He ran over, untying the animal, which
+uttered a whinny of recognition. In saddle, Tom joined the marching
+party.</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t seem to think us a very hard crowd to guard,” remarked
+’Gene Black curiously. “Why don’t you call off the men you posted
+around the thickets”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t post any,” Fulsbee answered simply. “I sent these two
+men of mine running around the thicket. Then they had to come
+together and attend to handcuffing you fellows.”</p>
+
+<p>“And were you the only man who had the drop on us?” gasped ’Gene
+Black.</p>
+
+<p>“I was,” Dave Fulsbee responded. “If you fellows hadn’t had such
+bad nerves, you could have escaped. But it’s an old story. When
+men go bad their nerves go bad with them.”</p>
+
+<p>As for Black’s followers, now that they knew the nature of the
+trick that had fooled them, several of them hung back.</p>
+
+<p>“You fellows needn’t think you can balk now,” observed Fulsbee
+grimly. “You’re all of you handcuffed, and there are enough of
+us to handle you. I promise you that, if anyone of you tries
+to run away, I won’t run after him until I’ve first tried dropping
+him with a shot.”</p>
+
+<p>So the party proceeded, and in time reached Lineville. There
+was great excitement in that little junction town when the citizens
+first heard of the dastardly work that the prisoners had attempted.</p>
+
+<p>Dave marched his captives into the waiting room of the station.
+All outsiders were ushered forth politely. Mr. Newnham was hurriedly
+summoned, and to him Tom Reade disclosed what he had learned of
+the work of enemies along the line. Naturally the president of
+the S.B. &amp; L. was greatly excited.</p>
+
+<p>“We knew something was wrong, from the nature of the telegraph
+messages that came in,” cried Mr. Newnham. “It was your friend,
+Hazelton, who first suggested the idea of sending a full train
+down the line, with a short pilot train ahead.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good, great old Harry!” murmured Tom admiringly.</p>
+
+<p>Both Fulsbee and the president of the road tried to question ’Gene
+Black. That treacherous fellow, however, steadfastly refused
+to talk. Two or three of his gang were willing enough to talk,
+but they knew little, as Black had carried all his plans and schemes
+in his own head.</p>
+
+<p>“No matter!” muttered Dave Fulsbee. “My two men and I were close
+to that thicket for some time before we broke in on the affair.
+We heard enough to supply all the evidence that the courts will
+want against these worthies.”</p>
+
+<p>As the futile questioning was drawing to a close, ’Gene Black
+suddenly roused himself to say sneeringly:</p>
+
+<p>“Gentlemen, look at your station clock. It’s fifteen minutes
+before midnight. A quarter of an hour left! Where’s your through
+train? If it reaches here fifteen minutes from now it will be
+too late.”</p>
+
+<p>“Send a message down the line quickly,” gasped Mr. Newnham, turning
+pale. Then he wheeled savagely upon the prisoner, exclaiming:
+“I forgot, Black. You rascals cut the wires. We could have
+mended them at the nearer point, but the wires were cut, too,
+at the scene of the blow-out. Oh, but you have been a thorn in
+our sides!”</p>
+
+<p>From the crowd that still lingered outside came a cheer. Tom
+Reade sprang to the nearest door, throwing it open.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen!” he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>The sound that had started the crowd to cheering was repeated
+again.</p>
+
+<p>_Too-oo-oo-oot_!</p>
+
+<p>“It’s the train!” cried Reade joyously. “It can’t be more than
+two or three miles below here, either. It will get through on
+time!”</p>
+
+<p>With nine minutes to spare, the train rolled into the station
+at Lineville. It was not the same train that had left Stormburg,
+for that train had been halted, safely, just before reaching the
+scene of the disastrous blow-out. At that point the passengers
+had alighted and had been conducted on foot to the other side
+of the gap caused by the explosion. Here Hazelton’s Lineville
+special stood ready to convey them into Lineville. So the road
+had been legally opened, since the passengers from Stormburg—-among
+whom was the lieutenant governor of the state had been brought
+all the way through over the line. Within the meaning of the
+law a through train had been operated over the new line, and within
+charter time.</p>
+
+<p>The S.B. &amp; L. had won! It had saved its charter. On the morrow,
+in Wall Street, the value of the road’s stock jumped by some millions
+of dollars.</p>
+
+<p>Let us not forget the pilot train. That returned to Lineville
+in the rear of the passenger train. Though the pilot train had
+a conductor, Harry Hazelton was in real charge.</p>
+
+<p>“Look whom we have here, Tom!” called Harry from the open side
+door of the baggage car, as Reade raced up to greet his successful
+chum.</p>
+
+<p>A man, bandaged, injured and groaning, lay on the floor of the
+baggage car.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, it’s Naughty Peter, himself!” cried Tom. “Peter, I’m sorry
+to find you in this shape. I am afraid you have been misbehaving.”</p>
+
+<p>“We found him not far from the track, near the blow-out,” Hazelton
+explained. “Whether he attended to that bit of bad work all alone,
+or whether his companions believed him dead and fled for their
+own safety, I can’t learn. Bad Pete won’t say a word. He was
+unconscious when we first discovered him. Now he knows what’s
+going on around him, but he’s too badly hurt to do more than hold
+his tongue.”</p>
+
+<p>It was only when Bad Pete recovered his health—-in jail—-and
+found himself facing a long term in prison, that he was ready
+to open his mouth. He could tell nothing, however, beyond confessing
+that he and three other men, including an operator, had attended
+to the blow-out. Pete had no knowledge of the real parties behind
+the plot. He knew only that he had acted under ’Gene Blanks orders.
+So Bad Pete was shown no mercy, but sent behind the bars for
+a term of twenty-five years. Owing to Black’s stubborn silence
+the outrages were never traced back to any official of the W.C.
+&amp; A.</p>
+
+<p>’Gene Black was sentenced to prison for thirty years. The other
+rascals, who had worked under his direction, all received long
+terms.</p>
+
+<p>The student engineers, wholly happy and well paid, returned to
+their college.</p>
+
+<p>The S.B. &amp; L. is still under the same management, and is one of
+the prosperous independent railroads of the United States. Dave
+Fulsbee continues as the head of its detective system.</p>
+
+<p>Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton had made good in their first professional
+undertaking. They were paid in proportion to their services, and
+given the opportunity to retain their positions at the head of the
+railway’s engineering corps.</p>
+
+<p>For some time they kept their positions, filling them always with
+honor. Yet, in the end, the desire to do other great things in
+their chosen profession led them into other fields of venture.
+Their greatest adventures, their severest trials and deepest
+problems, as well as their gravest perils were still ahead of them
+in their path of duty.</p>
+
+<p>The Young Engineers were bound to go on and up, yet their way
+was sure to be a stormy one.</p>
+
+<p>We shall meet these fine young Americans again in the next volume
+of this series, which is published under the title, “The Young
+Engineers in Arizona; Or, Laying Tracks on the Man-killer Quicksand.”
+It is a rousing narrative of real people and real happenings.
+</p>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN
+COLORADO; OR, AT RAILROAD BUILDING IN EARNEST ***</div>
+<div style='text-align:left'>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Young Engineers in Colorado, by H. Irving
+Hancock
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Young Engineers in Colorado
+
+Author: H. Irving Hancock
+
+Release Date: June 25, 2004 [eBook #12734]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN COLORADO***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Jim Ludwig
+
+
+
+The Young Engineers in Colorado
+
+or, At Railwood Building in Earnest
+
+By H. Irving Hancock
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTERS
+ I. The Cub Engineers Reach Camp
+ II. Bad Pete Becomes Worse
+ III. The Day of Real Work Dawns
+ IV. "Trying Out" the Gridley Boys
+ V. Tom Doesn't Mind "Artillery"
+ VI. The Bite from the Bush
+ VII. What a Squaw Knew
+ VIII. 'Gene Black, Trouble-Maker
+ IX. "Doctored" Field Notes?
+ X. Things Begin to go Down Hill
+ XI. The Chief Totters from Command
+ XII. From Cub to Acting Chief
+ XIII. Black Turns Other Colors
+ XIV. Bad Pete Mixes in Some
+ XV. Black's Plot Opens With a Bang
+ XVI. Shut Off from the World
+ XVII. The Real Attack Begins
+XVIII. When the Camp Grew Warm
+ XIX. Sheriff Grease Drops Dave
+ XX. Mr. Newnham Drops a Bomb
+ XXI. The Trap at the Finish
+ XXII. "Can Your Road Save Its Charter Now?"
+XXIII. Black's Trump Card
+ XXIV. Conclusion
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE CUB ENGINEERS REACH CAMP
+
+
+"Look, Tom! There is a real westerner!" Harry Hazelton's eyes
+sparkled, his whole manner was one of intense interest.
+
+"Eh?" queried Tom Reade, turning around from his distant view
+of a sharp, towering peak of the Rockies.
+
+"There's the real thing in the way of a westerner," Harry Hazelton
+insisted in a voice in which there was some awe.
+
+"I don't believe he is," retorted Tom skeptically.
+
+"You're going to say, I suppose, that the man is just some freak
+escaped from the pages of a dime novel?" demanded Harry.
+
+"No; he looks more like a hostler on a leave of absence from a
+stranded Wild West show," Tom replied slowly.
+
+There was plenty of time for them to inspect the stranger in question.
+Tom and Harry were seated on a mountain springboard wagon drawn
+by a pair of thin horses. Their driver, a boy of about eighteen,
+sat on a tiny make-believe seat almost over the traces. This
+youthful driver had been minding his own business so assiduously
+during the past three hours that Harry had voted him a sullen
+fellow. This however, the driver was not.
+
+"Where did that party ahead come from, driver?" murmured Tom,
+leaning forward. "Boston or Binghamton?"
+
+"You mean the party ahead at the bend of the trail?" asked the
+driver.
+
+"Yes; he's the only stranger in sight."
+
+"I guess he's a westerner, all right," answered the driver, after
+a moment or two spent in thought.
+
+"There! You see?" crowed Harry Hazelton triumphantly.
+
+"If that fellow's a westerner, driver," Tom persisted, "have you
+any idea how many days he has been west?"
+
+"He doesn't belong to this state," the youthful driver answered.
+"I think he comes from Montana. His name is Bad Pete."
+
+"Pete?" mused Tom Reade aloud. "That's short for Peter, I suppose;
+not a very interesting or romantic name. What's the hind-leg
+of his name?"
+
+"Meaning his surnames" drawled the driver.
+
+"Yes; to be sure."
+
+"I don't know that he has any surname, friend," the Colorado boy
+rejoined.
+
+"Why do they call him 'Bad'?" asked Harry, with a thrill of pleasurable
+expectation.
+
+As the driver was slow in finding an answer, Tom Reade, after
+another look at the picturesque stranger, replied quizzically:
+
+"I reckon they call him bad because he's counterfeit."
+
+"There you go again," remonstrated Harry Hazelton. "You'd better
+be careful, or Bad Pete will hear you."
+
+"I hope he doesn't," smiled Tom. "I don't want to change Bad
+Pete into Worse Pete."
+
+There was little danger, however, that the picturesque-looking
+stranger would hear them. The axles and springs of the springboard
+wagon were making noise enough to keep their voices from reaching
+the ears of any human being more than a dozen feet away.
+
+Bad Pete was still about two hundred and fifty feet ahead, nor
+did he, as yet, give any sign whatever of having noted the vehicle.
+Instead, he was leaning against a boulder at the turn in the
+road. In his left hand he held a hand-rolled cigarette from which
+he took an occasional reflective puff as he looked straight ahead
+of him as though he were enjoying the scenery. The road---trail---ran
+close along the edge of a sloping precipice. Fully nine hundred
+feet below ran a thin line of silver, or so it appeared. In reality
+it was what was left of the Snake River now, in July, nearly dried
+out.
+
+Over beyond the gulch, for a mile or more, extended a rather flat,
+rock-strewn valley. Beyond that were the mountains, two peaks
+of which, even at this season, were white-capped with snow. On
+the trail, however, the full heat of summer prevailed.
+
+"This grand, massive scenery makes a human being feel small, doesn't
+it?" asked Tom.
+
+Harry, however, had his eyes and all his thoughts turned toward
+the man whom they were nearing.
+
+"This---er---Bad Pete isn't an---er---that is, a road agent, is
+he?" he asked apprehensively.
+
+"He may be, for all I know," the driver answered. "At present
+he mostly hangs out around the S.B. & L. outfit."
+
+"Why, that's our outfits---the one we're going to join, I mean,"
+cried Hazelton.
+
+"I hope Pete isn't the cook, then," remarked Tom fastidiously.
+"He doesn't look as though he takes a very kindly interest in
+soap."
+
+"Sh-h-h!" begged Harry. "I'll tell you, he'll hear you."
+
+"See here," Tom went on, this time addressing the driver, "you've
+told us that you don't know just where to find the S.B. & L. field
+camp. If Mr. Peter Bad hangs out with the camp then he ought
+to be able to direct us."
+
+"You can ask him, of course," nodded the Colorado boy.
+
+Soon after the horses covered the distance needed to bring them
+close to the bend. Now the driver hauled in his team, and, blocking
+the forward wheels with a fragment of rock, began to give his
+attention to the harness.
+
+Bad Pete had consented to glance their way at last. He turned
+his head indolently, emitting a mouthful of smoke. As if by instinct
+his right hand dropped to the butt of a revolver swinging in a
+holster over his right hip.
+
+"I hope he isn't bad tempered today!" shivered Harry under his
+breath.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," galled Tom, "but can you tell us-----"
+
+"Who are ye looking at?" demanded Bad Pete, scowling.
+
+"At a polished man of the world, I'm sure," replied Reade smilingly.
+"As I was saying, can you tell us just where we can find the
+S.B. & L.'s field camp of engineers?"
+
+"What d'ye want of the camp?" growled Pete, after taking another
+whiff from his cigarette.
+
+"Why, our reasons for wanting to find the camp are purely personal,"
+Tom continued.
+
+"Now, tenderfoot, don't get fresh with me," warned Pete sullenly.
+
+"I haven't an idea of that sort in the world, sir," Tom assured
+him. "Do you happen to know the hiding-place of the camp?"
+
+"What do you want of the camp?" insisted Pete.
+
+"Well, sir, since you're so determined to protect the camp from
+questionable strangers," Tom continued, "I don't know that it
+will do any harm to inform you that we are two greenhorns---tenderfeet,
+I believe, is your more elegant word---who have been engaged to
+join the engineers' crowd and break in at the business."
+
+"Cub engineers, eh, tenderfoot?"
+
+"That's the full size of our pretensions, sir," Tom admitted.
+
+"Rich men's sons, coming out to learn the ways of the Rookies?"
+questioned Bad Pete, showing his first sign of interest in them.
+
+"Not quite as bad as that," Tom Reade urged. "We're wholly respectable,
+sir. We have even had to work hard in order to raise money for
+our railway fare out to Colorado."
+
+Bad Pete's look of interest in them faded.
+
+"Huh!" he remarked. "Then you're no good either why."
+
+"That's true, I'm afraid," sighed Tom. "However, can you tell
+us the way to the camp?"
+
+From one pocket Bad Pete produced a cigarette paper and from another
+tobacco. Slowly he rolled and lighted a cigarette, in the meantime
+seeming hardly aware of the existence of the tenderfeet. At last,
+however, he turned to the Colorado boy and observed:
+
+"Pardner, I reckon you'd better drive on with these tenderfeet
+before I drop them over the cliff. They spoil the view. Ye know
+where Bandy's Gulch is?"
+
+"Sure," nodded the Colorado boy.
+
+"Ye'll find the railroad outfit jest about a mile west o' there,
+camped close to the main trail."
+
+"I'm sure obliged to you," nodded the Colorado boy, stepping up
+to his seat and gathering in the reins.
+
+"And so are we, sir," added Tom politely.
+
+"Hold your blizzard in until I ask ye to talk," retorted Bad Pete
+haughtily. "Drive on with your cheap baggage, pardner."
+
+"Cheap baggage, are we?" mused Tom, when the wagon had left Bad
+Pete some two hundred feet to the rear. "My, but I feel properly
+humiliated!"
+
+"How many men has Bad Pete killed?" inquired Harry in an awed
+voice.
+
+"Don't know as he ever killed any," replied the Colorado boy,
+"but I'm not looking for trouble with any man that always carries
+a revolver at his belt and goes around looking for someone to
+give him an excuse to shoot. The pistol might go off, even by
+accident."
+
+"Are there many like Mr. Peter Bad in these hills nowadays?" Tom
+inquired.
+
+"You'll find the foothills back near Denver or Pueblo," replied
+the Colorado youth coldly "You're up in the mountains now."
+
+"Well, are there many like Peter Bad in these mountains?" Tom
+amended.
+
+"Not many," admitted their driver. "The old breed is passing.
+You see, in these days, we have the railroad, public schools,
+newspapers, the telegraph, electric light, courts and the other
+things that go with civilization."
+
+"The old days of romance are going by," sighed Harry Hazelton.
+
+"Do you call murder romantic?" Reade demanded. "Harry, you came
+west expecting to find the Colorado of the dime novels. Now we've
+traveled hundreds of miles across this state, and Mr. Bad wore
+the first revolver that we've seen since we crossed the state
+line. My private opinion is that Peter would be afraid to handle
+his pistol recklessly for fear it would go off."
+
+"I wouldn't bank on that," advised the young driver, shaking his
+head.
+
+"But you don't carry a revolver," retorted Tom Reade.
+
+"Pop would wallop me, if I did," grinned the Colorado boy. "But
+then, I don't need firearms. I know enough to carry a civil tongue,
+and to be quiet when I ought to."
+
+"I suppose people who don't possess those virtues are the only
+people that have excuse for carrying a pistol around with their
+keys, loose change and toothbrushes," affirmed Reade. "Harry,
+the longer you stay west the more people you'll find who'll tell
+you that toting a pistol is a silly, trouble-breeding habit."
+
+They drove along for another hour before a clattering sounded
+behind them.
+
+"I believe it's Bad Pete coming," declared Harry, as he made out,
+a quarter of a mile behind them, the form of a man mounted on
+a small, wiry mustang.
+
+"Yep; it is," nodded the Colorado boy, after a look back.
+
+The trail being wider here Bad Pete whirled by them with a swift
+drumming of his pony's hoofs. In a few moments more he was out
+of sight.
+
+"Tom, you may have your doubts about that fellow," Hazelton remarked,
+"but there's one thing he can do---ride!"
+
+"Humph! Anyone can ride that knows enough to get into a saddle
+and stick there," observed the Colorado boy dryly.
+
+Readers of the "_Grammar School Boys Series_" and of the "_High School
+Boys Series_", have already recognized in Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton
+two famous schoolboy athletes.
+
+Back in old Gridley there had once been a schoolboy crowd of six,
+known as Dick & Co. Under the leadership of Dick Prescott, these
+boys had made their start in athletics in the Central Grammar
+School, winning no small amount of fame as junior schoolboy athletes.
+
+Then in their High School days Dick & Co. had gradually made
+themselves crack athletes. Baseball and football were their especial
+sports, and in these they had reached a degree of skill that had
+made many a college trainer anxious to obtain them.
+
+None of the six, however, had gone to college. Dick Prescott
+and Greg Holmes had secured appointments as cadets at the United
+States Military Academy, at West Point. Their adventures are
+told in the "_West Point Series_." Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell,
+feeling the call to the Navy, had entered the United States Naval
+Academy at Annapolis. Their further doings are all described
+in the "_Annapolis Series_."
+
+Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, however, had found that their aspirations
+pointed to the great constructive work that is done by the big-minded,
+resourceful American civil engineer of today. Bridge building,
+railroad building, the tunneling of mines---in a word, the building
+of any of the great works of industry possessed a huge fascination
+for them.
+
+Tom was good-natured and practical, Harry at times full of mischief
+and at others dreamy, but both longed with all their souls to
+place themselves some day in the front ranks among civil engineers.
+
+At high school they had given especial study to mathematics.
+At home they had studied engineering, through correspondence courses
+and otherwise. During more than the last year of their home life
+our two boys had worked much in the offices of a local civil engineer,
+and had spent part of their school vacations afield with him.
+
+Finally, after graduating from school both boys had gone to New
+York in order to look the world over. By dint of sheer push,
+three-quarters of which Tom had supplied, the boys had secured
+their first chance in the New York offices of the S.B. & L. Not
+much of a chance, to be sure, but it meant forty dollars a month
+and board in the field, with the added promise that, if they turned
+out to be "no good," they would be promptly "bounced."
+
+"If 'bounced' we are," Tom remarked dryly, "we'll have to walk
+home, for our money will just barely take us to Colorado."
+
+So here they were, having come by rail to a town some distance
+west of Pueblo. From the last railway station they had been obliged
+to make thirty miles or more by wagon to the mountain field camp
+of the S.B. & L.
+
+Since daybreak they had been on the way, eating breakfast and
+lunch from the paper parcels that they had brought with them.
+
+"How much farther is the camp, now that you know the way." Reade
+inquired an hour after Bad Pete had vanished on horseback.
+
+"There it is, right down there," answered the Colorado youth,
+pointing with his whip as the raw-boned team hauled the wagon
+to the top of a rise in the trail.
+
+Of the trail to the left, surrounded by natural walls of rock,
+was an irregularly shaped field about three or four acres in extent.
+Here and there wisps of grass grew, but the ground, for the most
+part, was covered by splinters of rock or of sand ground from
+the same.
+
+At the farther end of the camp stood a small wooden building,
+with three tents near try. At a greater distance were several
+other tents. Three wagons stood at one side of the camp, though
+horses or mules for the same were not visible. Outside, near
+the door of one tent, stood a transit partially concealed by the
+enveloping rubber cover. Near another tent stood a plane table,
+used in field platting (drawing). Signs of life about the camp
+there were none, save for the presence of the newcomers.
+
+"I wonder if there's anyone at home keeping house," mused Tom
+Reade, as he jumped down from the wagon.
+
+"There's only one wooden house in this town. That must be where
+the boss lives," declared Harry.
+
+"Yes; that's where the boss lives," replied the Colorado youth,
+with a wry smile.
+
+"Let's go over and see whether he has time to talk to us," suggested
+Reade.
+
+"Just one minute, gentlemen," interposed the driver. "Where do
+you want your kit boxes placed? Are you going to pay me now?"
+
+"Drop the kit boxes on the ground anywhere," Tom answered. "We're
+strong enough to carry 'em when we find where they belong."
+
+And---yes: we are going to pay you now. Eighteen dollars, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes," replied the young driver, with the brevity of the mountaineer.
+
+Tom and Harry went into their pockets, each producing nine dollars
+as his share of the fare. This was handed over to the Colorado
+youth.
+
+"'Bliged to you, gentlemen," nodded the Colorado boy pocketing
+the money. "Anything more to say to me?"
+
+"Nothing remains to be said, except to thank you, and to wish
+you good luck on your way back," said Reade.
+
+"I wish you luck here, too, gentlemen. Good day."
+
+With that, the driver mounted his seat, turned the horses about
+and was off without once looking back.
+
+"Now let's go over to the house and see the boss," murmured Tom.
+
+Together the chums skirted the camp, going up to the wooden building.
+As the door was open, Tom, with a sense of good manners, approached
+from the side that he might not appear to be peeping in on the
+occupants of the building. Gaining the side of the doorway, with
+Harry just behind him, Reade knocked softly.
+
+"Quit yer kidding, whoever it is, and come in," called a rough
+voice.
+
+Tom thereupon stepped inside. What he saw filled him with surprise.
+Around the room were three or four tables. There were many utensils
+hanging on the walls. There were two stoves, with a man bending
+over one of them and stirring something in a pot.
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Tom. "I thought I'd find Mr. Timothy
+Thurston, the chief engineer, here."
+
+"Nope," replied a stout, red-faced man of forty, in flannel shirt
+and khaki trousers. "Mr. Thurston never eats between meals, and
+when he does eat he's served in his own mess tent. Whatcher want
+here, pardner?"
+
+"We're under orders to report to him," Tom answered politely.
+
+"New men in the chain gang?" asked the cook, swinging around to
+look at the newcomers.
+
+"Maybe," Reade assented. "That will depend on the opinion that
+Mr. Thurston forms of us after he knows us a little while. I
+believe the man in New York said we were to be assistant engineers."
+
+"There's only one assistant engineer here," announced the cook.
+"The other engineers are Just plain surveyors or levelers."
+
+"Well, we won't quarrel about titles," Tom smilingly assured the
+cook. "Will you please tell us where Mr. Thurston is?"
+
+"He's in his tent over yonder," said the cook, pointing through
+the open doorway.
+
+"Shall we step over there and announce ourselves?" Tom inquired.
+
+"Why, ye could do it," rejoined the red-faced cook, with a grin.
+"If Tim Thurston happens to be very busy he might use plain talk
+and tell you to git out of camp."
+
+"Then do you mind telling us just how we should approach the chief
+engineer?"
+
+"Whatter yer names?"
+
+"Reade and Hazelton."
+
+"Bob, trot over and tell Thurston there's two fellows here, named
+Reade and Hazelnut. Ask him what he wants done with 'em."
+
+The cook's helper, who, so far, had not favored the new arrivals
+with a glance, now turned and looked them over. Then, with a
+nod, the helper stepped across the ground to the largest tent
+in camp. In a few moments he came back.
+
+"Mr. Thurston says to stay around and he'll call you jest as soon
+as he's through with what he's doing," announced Bob, who, dark,
+thin and anemic, was a decrepit-looking man of fifty years or
+thereabouts.
+
+"Ye can stand about in the open," added the cook, pointing with
+his ladle. "There's better air out there."
+
+"Thank you," answered Tom briskly, but politely. Once outside,
+and strolling slowly along, Reade confided to his chum:
+
+"Harry, you can see what big fellows we two youngsters are going
+to be in a Rocky Mountain railroad camp. We haven't a blessed
+thing to do but play marbles until the chief can see us."
+
+"I can spare the time, if the chief can," laughed Harry. "Hello---look
+who's here!"
+
+Bad Pete, now on foot, had turned into the camp from the farther
+side. Espying the boys he swaggered over toward them.
+
+"How do you do, sir?" nodded Tom.
+
+"Can't you two tenderfeet mind your own business?" snarled Pete,
+halting and scowling angrily at them.
+
+"Now, I come to think of it," admitted Tom, "it _was_ meddlesome
+on my part to ask after your health. I beg your pardon."
+
+"Say, are you two tenderfeet trying to git fresh with me?" demanded
+Bad Pete, drawing himself up to his full height and gazing at
+them out of flashing eyes.
+
+Almost unconsciously Tom Reade drew himself up, showing hints
+of his athletic figure through the folds of his clothing.
+
+"No, Peter," he said quietly. "In the first place, my friend
+hasn't even opened his mouth. As for myself, when I _do_ try
+to get fresh with you, you won't have to do any guessing. You'll
+be sure of it."
+
+Bad Pete took a step forward, dropping his right hand, as though
+unconsciously, to the butt of the revolver in the holster. He
+fixed his burning gaze savagely on the boy's face as he muttered,
+in a low, ugly voice:
+
+"Tenderfoot, when I'm around after this you shut your mouth and
+keep it shut! You needn't take the trouble to call me Peter again,
+either. My name is Bad Pete, and I am bad. I'm poison! Understand?
+Poison!"
+
+"Poison?" repeated Tom dryly, coolly. "No; I don't believe I'd
+call you that. I think I'd call you a bluff---and let it go at
+that."
+
+Bad Pete scowled angrily. Again his hand slid to the butt of
+his revolver, then with a muttered imprecation he turned and stalked
+away, calling back threateningly over his shoulder:
+
+"Remember, tenderfoot. Keep out of my way."
+
+Behind the boys, halted a man who had just stepped into the camp
+over the natural stone wall. This man was a sun-browned, smooth-faced,
+pleasant-featured man of perhaps thirty-two or thirty-three years.
+Dressed in khaki trousers, with blue flannel shirt, sombrero
+and well-worn puttee leggings, he might have been mistaken for
+a soldier. Though his eyes were pleasant to look at, there was
+an expression of great shrewdness in them. The lines around his
+mouth bespoke the man's firmness. He was about five-feet-eight
+in height, slim and had the general bearing of a strong man accustomed
+to hard work.
+
+"Boys," he began in a low voice, whereat both Tom and Harry faced
+swiftly about, "you shouldn't rile Bad Pete that way. He's an
+ugly character, who carries all he knows of law in his holsters,
+and we're a long way from the sheriff's officers."
+
+"Is he really bad?" asked Tom innocently.
+
+"Really bad?" laughed the man in khaki. "You'll find out if you
+try to cross him. Are you visiting the camp?"
+
+"Reade! Hazelton!" called a voice brusquely from the big tent.
+
+"That's Mr. Thurston calling us, I guess," said Tom quickly.
+"We'll have to excuse ourselves and go and report to him."
+
+"Yes, that was Thurston," nodded the slim man. "And I'm Blaisdell,
+the assistant engineer. I'll go along with you."
+
+Throwing aside the canvas flap, Mr. Blaisdell led the boys inside
+the big tent. At one end a portion of the tent was curtained
+off, and this was presumably the chief engineer's bedroom. Near
+the centre of the tent was a flat table about six by ten feet.
+Just at present it held many drawings, all arranged in orderly
+piles. Not far from the big table was a smaller one on which
+a typewriting machine rested.
+
+The man who sat at the large table, and who wheeled about in a
+revolving chair as Tom and Harry entered, was perhaps forty-five
+years of age. His head was covered with a mass of bushy black
+hair. His face was as swarthy, in its clean-shaven condition,
+as though the owner had spent all of his life under a hot sun.
+His clothing like that of all the rest of the engineers in camp
+was of khaki, his shirt of blue flannel, with a long, flowing
+black tie.
+
+"Mr. Thurston," announced the assistant engineer, "I have just
+encountered these young gentlemen, who state that they are under
+orders from the New York offices to report to you for employment."
+
+Mr. Thurston looked both boys over in silence for a few seconds.
+His keen eyes appeared to take in everything that could possibly
+concern them. Then he rose, extending his hand, first to Reade,
+next to Hazelton.
+
+"From what technical school do you come?" inquired the engineer
+as he resumed his chair.
+
+"From none, sir," Tom answered promptly "We didn't have money
+enough for that sort of training."
+
+Mr. Thurston raised his eyebrows in astonished inquiry.
+
+"Then why," he asked, "did you come here? What made you think
+that you could break in as engineers?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+BAD PETE BECOMES WORSE
+
+
+Timothy Thurston's gaze was curious, and his voice a trifle cold.
+Yet he did not by any means treat the boys with contempt. He
+appeared simply to wonder why these young men had traveled so
+far to take up his time.
+
+"We couldn't afford to take a college course in engineering, sir,"
+Tom Reade continued, reddening slightly. "We have learned all
+that we possibly could in other ways, however."
+
+"Do you expect me, young men, to detail an experienced engineer
+to move about with you as instructor until you learn enough to
+be of use to us?"
+
+"No, indeed, we don't, sir," Tom replied, and perhaps his voice
+was sharper than usual, though it rang with earnestness. "We
+believe, sir, that we are very fair engineers. We are willing
+to be tried out, sir, and to be rated exactly where you find that
+we belong. If necessary we'll start in as helpers to the chainmen,
+and we have pride enough to walk back over the trail at any moment
+when you decide that we're no good. We have traveled all the
+way from the east, and I trust, sir, that you'll give us a fair
+chance to show if we know anything."
+
+"It won't take long to find that out," replied Mr. Thurston gravely.
+"Of course you both understand that we are doing real engineering
+work and haven't any time to instruct amateurs or be patient with
+them."
+
+"We don't want instruction, Mr. Thurston," Hazelton broke in.
+"We want work, and when we get it we'll do it."
+
+"I hope your work will be as good as your assurance," replied
+the chief engineer, with a slight twinkle in his eyes. "What
+can you do?"
+
+"We know how to do ordinary surveying, sir," Tom replied quickly.
+"We can run our courses and supervise the chaining. We know
+how to bring in field notes that are of some use. We can do our
+work well within the limits of error allowed by the United States
+Government. We also consider ourselves competent at leveling.
+Give us the profile plan and the notes on an excavation, and we
+can superintend the laborers who have to make an excavation.
+We have a fair knowledge of ordinary road building. We have the
+strength of usual materials at our finger's ends, and for beginners
+I think we may claim that we are very well up in mathematics.
+We have had some all-around experience. Here is a letter, sir,
+from Price & Conley, of Gridley, in whose offices we have done
+quite a bit of work."
+
+Mr. Thurston took the letter courteously, though he did not \
+immediately glance at it.
+
+"Country surveyors, these gentlemen, I suppose?" he asked, looking
+into Tom's eyes.
+
+"Yes, sir," nodded Reade, "though Mr. Price is also the engineer for
+our home county. Both Mr. Price and Mr. Conley paid us the
+compliment of saying that we were well fitted to work in a railway
+engineering camp."
+
+"Well, we'll try you out, until you either make good or convince
+us that you can't," agreed the chief engineer, without any show
+of enthusiasm. "You may show them where they are to live, Mr.
+Blaisdell, and where they are to mess. In the morning you can
+put these young men at some job or other."
+
+The words sounded like a dismissal, but Blaisdell lingered a moment.
+
+"Mr. Thurston," he smiled, "our young men ran, first thing, into
+Bad Pete."
+
+"Yes?" inquired the chief. "Did Pete show these young men his
+fighting front?"
+
+Blaisdell repeated the dialogue that had taken place between Tom
+and Bad Pete.
+
+The chief listened to his assistant in silence. Tom flushed slightly
+under the penetrating glance Mr. Thurston cast upon him during
+the recital.
+
+When the assistant had finished, the chief merely remarked: "Blaisdell,
+I wish you could get rid of that fellow, Bad Pete. I don't like
+to have him hanging about the camp. He's an undesirable character,
+and I'm afraid that some of our men will have trouble with him.
+Can't you get rid of him?"
+
+"I'll do it if you say so, Mr. Thurston," Blaisdell answered quietly.
+
+"How?" inquired his chief.
+
+"I'll serve out firearms to five or six of the men, and the next
+time Pete shows his face we'll cover him and march him miles away
+from camp."
+
+"That wouldn't do any good," replied Mr. Thurston, with a shake
+of his head. "Pete would only come back, uglier than before,
+and he'd certainly shoot up some of our men."
+
+"You asked me, a moment ago, Mr. Thurston, what I could do," Tom
+broke in. "Give me a little time, and I'll agree to rid the camp
+of Peter."
+
+"How?" asked the chief abruptly. "Not with any gun-play! Pete
+would be too quick for you at anything of that sort."
+
+"I don't carry a pistol, and don't wish to do so," Tom retorted.
+"In my opinion only a coward carries a pistol."
+
+"Then you think Bad Pete is a coward, young man?" returned the
+chief.
+
+"If driven into a corner I'm pretty sure he'd turn out to be one,
+sir," Tom went on earnestly. "A coward is a man who's afraid.
+If a fellow isn't afraid of anything, then why does he have to
+carry firearms to protect himself?"
+
+"I don't believe that would quite apply to Pete," Mr. Thurston
+went on. "Pete doesn't carry a revolver because he's afraid of
+anything. He knows that many other men are afraid of pistols,
+and so he carries his firearms about in order that he may enjoy
+himself in playing bully."
+
+"I can drive him out of camp," Tom insisted. "All I'll wait for
+will be your permission to go ahead."
+
+"If you can do it without shooting," replied the chief, "try your
+hand at it. Be careful, however, Reade. There are plenty of
+good natural lead mines in these mountains."
+
+"Yes---sir?" asked Reade, looking puzzled.
+
+"Much as we'd like to see Pete permanently out of this camp, remember
+that we don't want you to give the fellow any excuse for turning
+you into a lead mine."
+
+"If Peter tries anything like that with me," retorted Tom solemnly,
+"I shall be deeply offended."
+
+"Very good. Take the young men along with you, Blaisdell. I'll
+hear your report on them tomorrow night."
+
+The assistant engineer took Tom and Harry over to a seven by nine
+tent.
+
+"You'll bunk in here," he explained, "and store your dunnage here.
+There are two folding cots in the tent, as you see. Don't shake
+'em out until it's time to turn in, and then you'll have more
+room in your house. Now, come on over and I'll show you the mess
+tent for the engineers."
+
+This Blaisdell also showed them. There was nothing in the tent
+but a plain, long table, with folding legs, and a lot of camp
+chairs of the simplest kind.
+
+"What's that tent, Mr. Blaisdell?" inquired Harry, pointing to
+the next one, as they came out of the engineers' mess.
+
+"Mess tent for the chainmen and rod men laborers, etc.," replied
+their guide. "Now, the fellows will be in soon, and supper will
+be on in half an hour. After you get your dunnage over to your
+tent amuse yourselves in any way that you care to. I'll introduce
+you to the crowd at table."
+
+Tom and Harry speedily had their scanty dunnage stored in their
+own tent. Then they sat down on campstools just outside the door.
+
+"Thurston didn't seem extremely cordial, did he?" asked Hazelton
+solemnly.
+
+"Well, why should he be cordial?" Tom demanded. "What does he
+know about us? We're trying to break in here and make a living,
+but how does he know that we're not a pair of merely cheerful
+idiots?"
+
+"I've an idea that Mr. Thurston is always rather cool with his
+staff," pursued Harry.
+
+"Do your work, old fellow, in an exceptionally fine way, and I
+guess you'll find that he can thaw out. Mr. Thurston is probably
+just like other men who have to employ folks. When he finds that
+a man can really do the work that he's paid to do I imagine that
+Thurston is well satisfied and not afraid to show it."
+
+"What's that noise?" demanded Harry, trying to peer around the
+corner of their tent without rising.
+
+"The field gang coming in, I think," answered Tom.
+
+"Let's get up, then, and have a look at our future mates," suggested
+Harry Hazelton.
+
+"No; I don't believe it would be a good plan," said Tom. "We might
+be thought fresh if we betrayed too much curiosity before the
+crowd shows some curiosity about us."
+
+"Reade!" sounded Blaisdell's voice, five minutes later. "Bring
+your friend over and inspect this choice lot of criminals."
+
+Tom rose eagerly, followed by Harry. As they left the tent and
+hurried outside they beheld two rows of men, each before a long
+bench on which stood agate wash basins. The toilet preceding
+the evening meal was on.
+
+"Gentlemen," Mr. Blaisdell, as the two chums drew near, "I present
+two new candidates for fame. One is named Reade, the other Hazelton.
+Take them to your hearts, but don't, at first, teach them all
+the wickedness you know. Reade, this is Jack Rutter, the spotted
+hyena of the camp. If he ever gets in your way just push him
+over a cliff."
+
+A pleasant-faced young man in khaki hastily dried his face and
+hands on a towel, then smilingly held out his right hand.
+
+"Glad to know you, Reade," he laughed. Hope you'll like us and
+decide to stay."
+
+"Hazelton," continued the announcer, "shake hands with Slim Morris,
+whether he'll let you or not. And here's Matt Rice. We usually
+call him 'Mister' Rice, for he's extremely talented. He knows
+how to play the banjo."
+
+The assistant engineer then turned away, while one young man,
+at the farther end of the long wash bench stood unpresented.
+
+"Oh, on second thoughts," continued Blaisdell, "I'll introduce
+you to Joe Grant."
+
+The last young man came forward.
+
+"Joe used to be a good fellow---once," added the assistant engineer.
+"In these days, however, you want to keep your dunnage boxes
+locked. Joe's specialty is stealing fancy ties---neckties, I
+mean."
+
+Joe laughed good-humoredly as he shook hands, adding:
+
+"We'll tell you all about Blaisdell himself, boys, one of these
+days, but not now. It's too far from pay day, and old Blaze stands
+in too thickly with the chief."
+
+"If you folks don't come into supper soon," growled the voice
+of the cook, Jake Wren, from the doorway of the engineer's mess
+tent, "I'll eat your grub myself."
+
+"He'd do it, too," groaned Slim Morris, a young man who nevertheless
+weighed more than two hundred pounds. "Blaze, won't you take
+us inside and put us in our high chairs?"
+
+There was infinite good humor in this small force of field engineers.
+As was afterwards learned, all of them were graduates either
+of colleges or of scientific schools but not one of them affected
+any superiority over the young newcomers.
+
+Just as the party had seated themselves there was a step outside,
+and Bad Pete stalked in looking decidedly sulky.
+
+"Evening," he grunted, and helped himself to a seat at the table.
+
+"Reade and Hazelton, you've had the pleasure of meeting Pete,
+I believe?" asked Blaisdell, without the trace of a smile.
+
+"Huh!" growled Pete, not looking up, for the first supply of food
+was on the table.
+
+"We've had the pleasure, twice today, of meeting Mr. Peter," replied
+Tom, with equal gravity.
+
+"See here, tenderfoot," scowled Bad Pete, looking up from his
+plate, "don't you call me 'Peter' again. Savvy?"
+
+"We don't know your other name, sir," rejoined Tom, eyeing the
+bad man with every outward sign of courtesy.
+
+"I'm just plain Pete. Savvy that?
+
+"Certainly, Plain Pete," Reade nodded.
+
+Pete dropped his soup spoon with a clatter letting his right hand
+fall to the holster.
+
+"Be quiet, Pete," warned Blaisdell, his eyes shooting a cold glance
+at the angry man. "Reade is a newcomer, not used to our ways
+yet. Remember that this is a gentleman's club."
+
+"Then let him get out," warned Pete blackly.
+
+"He belongs here by right, Pete, and you're a guest. Of course we
+enjoy having you here with us, but, if you don't care to take us
+as you find us, the fellows in the chainmen's mess will be glad to
+have you join them."
+
+"That tenderfoot is only a boy," growled Pete. "If he can't hold
+his tongue when men are around, then I'll teach him how."
+
+"Reade hasn't done anything to offend you," returned Blaisdell,
+half sternly, half goodhumoredly. "You let him alone, and he'll
+let you alone. I'm sure of that."
+
+"Blaisdell, if you don't see that I'm treated right in this mess,
+I'll teach you something, too," flared Bad Pete.
+
+"Threatening the president of the mess is a breach of courtesy
+on the part of any guest who attempts it," spoke Blaisdell again.
+"Gentlemen, what is your pleasure?"
+
+"I move," suggested Slim Morris quietly, "that Pete be considered
+no longer a member or guest of this mess."
+
+"Second the motion," cried Rutter, Rice and Grant together.
+
+"The motion appears to have been carried, without the necessity
+for putting it," declared Mr. Blaisdell. "Pete, you have heard
+the pleasure of the mess."
+
+"Huh!" scowled Bad Pete, picking up his soup plate and draining it.
+
+Jake Wren, at this moment, entered with a big platter of roast
+beef, Bob, the helper, following with dishes of vegetables. Then
+Bob came in with plates, which he placed before Blaisdell. The
+latter counted the plates, finding eight.
+
+"We shan't need this plate, Bob," declared Blaisdell evenly, handing
+it back. Then he began to carve.
+
+"Put that plate back with the rest, Bob, you pop-eyed coyote,"
+ordered Bad Pete.
+
+Bob, looking uneasy, started to do so, but Blaisdell waved him
+away. At that instant Jake Wren came back into the tent.
+
+"For the present, Jake," went on the assistant engineer, "serve
+only for seven in this tent. Pete is leaving us."
+
+"Do you mean-----" flared Pete, leaping to his feet and striding
+toward the engineer.
+
+"I mean," responded Blaisdell, without looking up, "that we hope
+the chainmen's mess will take you on. But if they don't like
+you, they don't have to do so."
+
+For ten seconds, while Pete stood glaring at Blaisdell, it looked
+as though the late guest would draw his revolver. Pete was swallowing
+hard, his face having turned lead color.
+
+"Won't you oblige us by going at once, Pete?" inquired Blaisdell
+coolly.
+
+"Not until I've settled my score here," snarled the fellow. "Not
+until I've evened up with you, you-----"
+
+At the same time Pete reached for his revolver in evident earnest.
+Both his words and his movement were nipped short.
+
+Morris and Rice were the only men in the engineers' party who
+carried revolvers. They carried weapons, in the day time, for
+protection against a very real foe, the Rocky Mountain rattlesnakes,
+which infested the territory through which the engineers were
+then working.
+
+Both these engineers reached swiftly for their weapons.
+
+Before they could produce them, however, or ore Pete could finish
+what he was saying, Tom Reade leaped up from his campstool, closing
+in behind the bad man.
+
+"Ow-ow! Ouch!" yelled Pete. "Let go, you painted coyote."
+
+"Walk right out of the tent, and I shall rejoice to let you depart,"
+responded Tom steadily.
+
+Standing behind the fellow, he had, with his strong, wiry fingers,
+gripped Pete hard right over the biceps muscle of each arm. Like
+many another of his type Pete had developed no great amount of
+bodily strength. Though he struggled furiously, he was unable
+to wrench himself free from this youth who had trained hard in
+football training squads.
+
+"Step outside and cool off, Peter," advised Tom, thrusting the
+bad man through the doorway. "Have too much pride, man, to force
+yourself on people who don't want your company."
+
+Reade ran his foe outside a dozen feet, then released him, turning
+and reentering the tent.
+
+"No, you don't! Put up your pistol," sounded the warning voice
+of Cook Jake Wren outside. "You take a shot at that young feller,
+Pete, and I'll never serve you another mouthful as long as I'm
+in the Rockies!"
+
+Bad Pete gazed fiercely toward the engineers' tent, hesitated
+a moment, and then walked wrathfully away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE DAY OF REAL WORK DAWNS
+
+
+The meal was finished in peace after that. It was so hearty a
+meal that Tom and Harry, who had not yet acquired the keen edge
+of appetite that comes to hard workers in the Rockies, had finished
+long before any one else.
+
+"You fellers had better hurry up," commanded Jake Wren finally.
+"It'll soon be dark, and I'm not going to furnish candles."
+
+As the cook was an autocrat in camp, the engineers meekly called
+for more pie and coffee, disposed of it and strolled out of the
+mess tent over to their own little village under canvas.
+
+"Bring over your banjo, Matt," urged Joe. "Nothing like the merry
+old twang to make the new boys feel at home in our school."
+
+Rice needed no further urging. As darkness came down a volume
+of song rang out.
+
+"What time do we turn out in the morning?" Tom asked, as Mr.
+Blaisdell brought over a camp stool and sat near them.
+
+"At five sharp," responded the assistant engineer. "An hour later
+we hit the long trail in earnest. This isn't an idling camp."
+
+"I'm glad it isn't," Reade nodded.
+
+Then Blaisdell chatted with the boys, drawing out of them what
+they knew, or thought they knew, of civil engineering, especially
+as applied to railroad building.
+
+"I hope you lads are going to make good," said Blaisdell earnestly.
+"We're in something of a fix on this work at best, and we need
+even more than we have, of the very best hustling engineers that
+can be found."
+
+"I am beginning to wonder," said Tom, "how, when you have such
+need of men of long training, your New York office ever came to
+pick us out."
+
+"Because," replied the assistant candidly, "the New York office
+doesn't know the difference between an engineer and a railroad
+tie. Tim Thurston has been making a long yell at the New York
+offices of the company for engineers. Knowing the little that
+they do, our New York owners take anyone who says he's an engineer,
+and unload the stranger on us."
+
+"I hope we prove up to the work," sighed Harry.
+
+"We're going to size up. We've got to, and that's all there is
+to it," retorted Tom. "We've been thrown in the water here, Harry,
+and we've got to swim---which means that we're going to do so.
+Mr. Blaisdell," turning to the assistant, "you needn't worry
+as to whether we're going to make good. We _shall_!"
+
+"I like your spirit, at any rate, and I've a notion that you're
+going to win through," remarked the assistant.
+
+"You try out a lot of men here, don't you?" asked Harry.
+
+"A good many," assented Blaisdell.
+
+"From what I heard at table," Hazelton continued, "Mr. Thurston
+drops a good many of the new men after trying them."
+
+"He doesn't drop any man that he doesn't have to drop," returned
+Blaisdell. "Tim Thurston wants every competent man that he can
+get here. Let me see-----"
+
+Blaisdell did some silent counting on his fingers. Then he went
+on:
+
+"In the last eleven weeks, Thurston has dropped just sixteen new
+men."
+
+"Whew!" gasped Harry, casting a sidelong glance at his shoes,
+with visions of a coming walk at least as far back as Denver or
+Pueblo.
+
+"Mr. Thurston isn't going to drop us," Tom declared. "Mr. Blaisdell,
+Hazelton and I are here and we're going to hang on if we have
+to do it with our teeth. We're going to know how to do what's
+required of us if we have to stay up all night finding out. We've
+just got to make good, for we haven't any money with which to
+get home or anywhere else. Besides, if we can't make good here
+we're not fit to be tried out anywhere else."
+
+"We're in an especially hard fix, you see," the assistant engineer
+explained. "When we got our charter something less than two years
+ago we undertook to have every mile of track ballasted and laid
+on the S.B. & L., and trains running through, by September 30th
+of this year. There are three hundred and fifty-four miles of
+road in all. Now, in July, less than three months from the time,
+this camp is forty-nine miles from the terminus of the road at
+Loadstone, while the constructing engineers and the track-layers
+are thirty-eight miles behind us. Do you see the problem?"
+
+"You can get an extension of time, can't you?" asked Tom.
+
+"We can---_not_! You see, boys, the S.B. & L. is the popular
+road. That is, it's the one that the people of this state backed
+in the main. When we got our charter from the legislature there
+was a lot of opposition from the W.C. & A. railroad. That organization
+wishes to add to their road, using the very locations that our
+preliminary engineering force selected for the S.B. & L. The
+W.C. & A. folks have such a bewildering number of millions at
+their back that they would have won away from us, had they been
+an American crowd. The W.C. & A. has only American officers
+and a few small stockholders in this country. The W.C. & A.
+is a foreign crowd throughout in reality, and back of them they
+have about all the money that's loose in London, Paris and Berlin.
+The W.C. & A. spent a lot of money at the state capital, I guess,
+for it was common report that some of the members of the legislature
+had sold out to the foreign crowd. So, though public clamor carried
+our charter through the legislature by sheer force, the best concession
+we could get was that our road must be built and in operation
+over the entire length by September 30th, or the state has the
+privilege of taking over our road at an appraised value. Do you
+see what that means?"
+
+"Does it mean that the state would then turn around and sell this
+road to the W.C. & A. at a good profit?" asked Reade.
+
+"You've hit it," nodded Mr. Blaisdell. "The W.C. & A. would be
+delighted to take over our road at a price paid to the state that
+would give Colorado quite a few millions in profits. The legislature
+would then have a chance to spend those millions on public improvements
+in the state. I think you will understand why public clamor now
+seems to have swung about in favor of the W.C.& A."
+
+"Yet it seems to me," put in Harry, "that, even if the S.B. & L.
+does fail to get the railroad through in time, the stockholders
+will get their money back when the state takes the road over."
+
+"That, one can never count on," retorted Blaisdell, shaking his
+head. "The state courts would have charge of the appraising of
+the value of the road, and one can never tell just what courts
+will award. Ten chances to one the appraisal wouldn't cover more
+than fifty per cent. of what the S.B. & L. has expended, and
+thus our company would be many millions of dollars out of pocket.
+Besides, if the courts could be depended upon to appraise this
+uncompleted road at twenty per cent. more than has been expended
+upon it, our company would still lose, for what the S.B. & L.
+really expects to do is to bag the big profits that can be made
+out of the section of the state that this road taps. Take it
+from me, boys, the officials of this road are crazy with anxiety
+to get the road through in time, and not lose the many millions
+that are waiting to be earned by the S.B. & L. getting this road
+through is all that Tim Thurston dreams of, by night or day.
+His reputation---and he has a big one in railroad building---is
+wholly at stake on his carrying this job through. It'll be a
+big prize for all of us, professionally, if we can back Thurston's
+fight to win."
+
+"I'll back it to win," glowed Tom ardently "Mr. Blaisdell, I am
+well aware that I'm hardly more than the lens cap on a transit
+in this outfit, but I'm going to do every ounce of my individual
+share to see this road through and running on time, and I'll carry
+as much of any other man's burden as I can load onto my shoulders!"
+
+"Good!" chuckled Blaisdell, holding out his hand. "I see that
+you're one of us, heart and soul, Reade. What have you to say,
+Hazelton?"
+
+"I always let Tom do my talking, because he can do it better,"
+smiled Harry. "At the same time, I've known Tom Reade for a good
+many years, and his performance is always as good as his promise.
+As for me, Mr. Blaisdell, I've just told you that Tom does my
+talking, but I back up all that he promises for me."
+
+"Pinkitty-plank-plink!" twanged Matt Rice's banjo, starting into
+another rollicking air.
+
+"I guess it's taps, boys," called Blaisdell in his low but resonant
+voice. "Look at the chief's tent; he's putting out his candles now."
+
+A glance at the gradually darkening walls of the chief engineers
+big tent showed that this was the case.
+
+"We'll all turn in," nodded Blaisdell.
+
+So Tom and Harry hastened to their tent, where they unfolded their
+camp cots and set them up. There was not much bed-making. The
+body of the cot was of canvas, and required no mattress. From
+out of their baggage each took a small pillow and pair of blankets.
+At this altitude the night was already rather chilly, despite
+the fact that it was July.
+
+Rapidly undressing in the dark the young engineers crawled in
+between their blankets.
+
+"Well, at last," murmured Harry, "we're engineers in earnest.
+That is," he added rather wistfully, "if we last."
+
+"We've got to last," replied Tom in a low voice, hardly above
+a whisper, "and we're going to. Harry, we've left behind us the
+playtime of boyhood, and we're beginning real life! But in that
+playtime we learned how to play real football. From now on we'll
+apply all of the best and most strenuous rules of football to
+the big art of making a living and a reputation. Good night,
+old fellow! Dream of the folks back in Gridley. I'm going to."
+
+"And of the chums at West Point and Annapolis," gaped Hazelton.
+"God bless them!"
+
+That was not the only short prayer sent up, but within five minutes
+both youngsters had fallen sound asleep. The man who can sleep
+as they did, when the head touches the pillow, has many successes
+still ahead of him!
+
+Nor did they worry about not waking in season in the morning.
+Slim Morris had promised to see to it that they were awake on time.
+
+Slam! Bump! Tom Reade was positive he had not been asleep more
+than a minute when that rude interruption came. He awoke to find
+himself scrambling up from the ground.
+
+Tom had his eyes open in time to see Harry Hazelton hit the ground
+with force. Then Slim Morris retreated to the doorway of the tent.
+
+"Are you fellows going to sleep until pay days" Slim demanded jovially.
+
+Tom hustled into his clothes, reached the doorway of the tent
+and found the sun already well up in the skies.
+
+"The boys are sitting down to breakfast," called Slim over his
+shoulder. "Want any?"
+
+"_Do_ I want any?" mocked Tom. He had laid out his khaki clothing
+the night before, and was now in it, save for his khaki jacket,
+which he caught up on his arm as he raced along toward the wash bench.
+
+Nor had he gone very far with the soap and water when Harry Hazelton
+was beside him.
+
+"Tom, Tom!" breathed Harry in ecstacy. "Do you blame people for
+loving the Rocky Mountains? This grand old mountain air is food
+and drink---almost."
+
+"It may be for you. I want some of the real old camp chuck---plenty
+of it," retorted Reade, drawing a pocket comb out and running it
+through his damp locks while he gazed into the foot-square camp mirror
+hanging from a tree.
+
+"May we come in?" inquired Tom, pausing in the doorway of the
+engineers' mess tent.
+
+"Not if you're in doubt about it," replied Mr. Blaisdell, who
+was already eating with great relish. The boys slid into their
+seats, while Bob rapidly started things their way.
+
+How good it all tasted! Bacon and fried eggs, corn bread and
+potatoes, coffee and a big dish of that time-honored standby in
+engineers' camp---baked beans. Then, just as Tom and Harry, despite
+their appetites, sat back filled, Bob appeared with a plate of
+flapjacks and a pitcher of molasses.
+
+"Ten minutes of six," observed Mr. Blaisdell, consulting his watch
+as he finished. "Not much more time, gentlemen."
+
+Tom and Harry followed the assistant engineer out into the open.
+
+"Can you tell us now, Mr. Blaisdell, what we're to do today?"
+Reade inquired eagerly.
+
+"See those transits?" inquired Blaisdell, pointing to two of the
+telescoped and compassed instruments used by surveyors in running
+courses. "One for each of you. Take your choice. You'll go
+out today under charge of Jack Rutter. Of course it will be a
+little bit slow to you the first two or three days, but between
+you, I hope to see you do more than Rutter could do alone. You'll
+each have two chainmen. Rutter will give you blank form books
+for your field notes. He'll work back and forth between the two
+of you, seeing that you each do your work right. Boys, don't
+make any mistakes today, will you, So much depends, you know,
+upon the way you start in at a new job."
+
+"We'll do the best that's in us," breathed Tom ardently.
+
+"Engineer Rutter," called Blaisdell, "your two assistants are
+ready. Get your two sets of chainmen and make a flying start."
+
+Animated by the spirit of activity that pervaded the camp, Tom
+and Harry ran to select their instruments, while Rutter hastened
+after his chainmen.
+
+Bad Pete had not appeared at either mess this morning. He had
+small need to, for, in the still watches of the night, he had
+burglarized the cook's stores so successfully that not even that
+argus-eyed individual had noticed the loss.
+
+Having breakfasted heartily in a deep thicket, Pete now looked
+down over the camp, his eyes twinkling in an evil way.
+
+"I'll get bounced out of mess on account of two pasty-faced tenderfeet
+like those boys, will I?" Pete grumbled to himself. "Before
+this morning is over I reckon I'll have all accounts squared
+with the tenderfeet!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+"TRYING OUT" THE GRIDLEY BOYS
+
+
+The chainmen picked up the transits, carrying also the chains
+and rods. Rutter led the way, Tom and Harry keeping on either
+side of him, except when the rough mountain trail narrowed. Then
+they were obliged to walk at his heels.
+
+"We are making this survey first," Rutter explained, "and then
+the leveling over the same ground follows within a few days.
+Both the surveying and the leveling have to be done with great
+care. They must tally accurately, or the work will all go wrong,
+and the contractors would be thrown out so badly that they'd hardly
+know where they stood. A serious mistake in surveying or leveling
+at any point might throw the work down for some days. As you've
+already heard explained, any delay, now, is going to lose us our
+charter as sure as guns."
+
+For more than a mile and a half the brisk walk continued. At
+last Rutter halted, pointing to a stake driven in the ground.
+
+"See the nail head in the top of the stake?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes," Tom nodded.
+
+"You'll find a similar nail head in every stake. The exact point
+of the plummet of your bog-line must centre on the middle of that
+nail head. You can't be too exact about that, remember."
+
+Turning to one of the chainmen, Rutter added:
+
+"Jansen, take a rod and hustle along to the next stake."
+
+"Yes, sir," answered the man, and started on a run. Nor did he
+pause until he had located the stake. Then he signaled back with
+his right hand. Tom Reade, in the meantime, had quickly set up
+his transit over the first stake on his part of the course. He
+did some rough shifting, at first, until the point of the plummet
+was exactly over the nail head. Then followed some careful adjusting
+of the instrument on its supports until two fine spirit levels
+showed that the compass of the instrument was exactly level.
+"Now, let me see you get your sight," urged Rutter.
+
+Tom did so, coolly, manipulating his instrument as rapidly as
+he could with safety, yet not with speed enough to cause himself
+confusion or worry.
+
+"I've got a sight on the rod," announced Reade, without emotion.
+
+"Are the cross-hairs, as you see them through the telescope, just
+on the mark?" Rutter demanded.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Let me have a look," ordered Rutter. "A fine, close sight," he
+assented, after taking a careful look through the telescope.
+"Now, take your reading."
+
+This showed the course by the compass, and was expressed in degrees,
+minutes and seconds. The poor reading of a course is one of the
+frequent faults of new or careless engineers.
+
+"Here is a magnifier for the vernier," continued Rutter, just
+after Tom had started to make his reading.
+
+"Thank you; I have a pretty good one of my own," Tom answered,
+diving into one of his pockets and bringing to light a small but
+powerful reading glass with an aplanatic lens.
+
+"You carry a better magnifier than I do," laughed Rutter. "Hazelton,
+do You carry a pocket glass?"
+
+"Yes, sir," nodded Harry "I have one just like Reade's."
+
+"Good! I can see that you youngsters believe in good tools."
+
+Tom in the meantime was busy with the vernier of his transit.
+This is an ingenious device for showing the smaller divisions
+into which the circles of the compass are divided. Tom quickly
+jotted down his field note in degrees, minutes and seconds. One
+chainman now held an end of a hundred-link chain at the nail head
+on the stake, while a second man started toward the rodman, unfolding
+the chain as he went.
+
+Tom remained over his transit. The traveling chainman frequently
+glanced back for directions from Reade whether or not he was off
+the course of a straight line to the next stake.
+
+Soon the chain-bearer was a little to the left of the line.
+
+Tom held a hand over the telescope of the transit, moving it very
+slowly to the right. The chain-bearer, glancing slowly back,
+stepped slowly to the right of the course until Tom's hand fell
+abruptly. Then the chain-bearer stopped, knowing that he was
+on the right line. A metal stake, having a loop at the top from
+which fluttered a marker of red flannel, the man stuck upright
+in the ground. Tom took a peep, signaling so gently that the
+man moved the stake just half an inch before Reade's hand again
+fell.
+
+"That stake is right; go ahead," ordered Tom, but he said it not by
+word of mouth, but merely with a slight gesture of pushing forward.
+
+"You've been well trained, I'll bet a hat," smiled Butter. "I
+can tell that by the practiced way that you signal. O'Brien!"
+
+"Yes, sir," answered another chainman, stepping forward.
+
+"Take Thane with you, and carry Mr. Hazelton's transit to Grizzly
+Ledge. Mr. Hazelton and I will be there presently."
+
+Two more chainmen started away.
+
+Now, both of Tom's chainmen started forward, the rear one moving
+to the first metal stake that displayed the red marker. Tom still
+remained at the transit, motioning to the men whenever they got
+the least out of a true straight line to the rodman. It was not
+hard work for Reade at this point, but it required his closest
+attention.
+
+After some time had passed the chainmen had "chained" the whole
+distance between Tom's stake and the rod resting on the next stake.
+Now the rodman, after making a close measurement, signaled back.
+Nine downward sweeps of his right arm signified nine chains;
+next the movements of his arm signaled the forty-four links of
+a tenth chain. Then seven movements of the left hand across in
+front of the eyes, and Reade knew that stood for seven-tenths
+of a link. Hence on the page of his field note book Tom wrote
+the distance between the stakes as nine chains and forty-four
+and seven-tenths links.
+
+"That's good," nodded Rutter, who had been watching every move
+closely. The forty-four signaled by the rodman's left arm, instead
+of being made up of forty-four downward strokes, had consisted
+of four such strokes, followed by a pause, and then four more
+strokes.
+
+"I'll go along and see you get the course and distance to the
+third rod," said Rutter.
+
+This course and distance, too, in time, had been measured and
+carefully noted by Reade.
+
+"You'll get along all right, if you pay strict attention and don't
+become confused or careless," nodded Jack Rutter. "Now, I'll
+write 'Reade' on this starting stake of yours, and I'll write
+Hazelton on your friend's starting stake. After you've surveyed
+to Hazelton's starting stake let your rodman bring you forward
+until you overhaul me."
+
+"Very good, sir," nodded Tom coolly.
+
+Rutter and Harry moved along the trail, leaving Tom with his own
+"gang."
+
+"Nothing very mentally wearing in this job," reflected Tom, when
+he found himself left to his own resources. "All a fellow has
+to do is to keep his head clear, be faithful and exactly honest
+with his work, and move with all the speed that good, straight
+work will allow."
+
+So Reade moved ahead, getting courses and distances to five more
+stakes. Then, as he reached the sixth, he gazed ahead and smiled.
+A mountain pond lay right in his straight path to the seventh stake.
+
+"Can that pond be easily forded?" Reade asked the nearer chainman.
+
+"No, sir; it's about ten feet deep in the centre."
+
+Tom smiled grimly to himself.
+
+"Rutter didn't say anything about this to me," Tom muttered to
+himself. "He put this upon me, to see how I'd get over an obstacle
+like an unfordable pond. Well, it's going to take a lot of time
+but I'll show Mr. Jack Rutter!"
+
+Accordingly, Reade allowed his chainmen to proceed measuring until
+they were fairly close to the pond. Then he went forward to the
+metal stake that had just been driven. From this stake he laid
+out a new course to the north and at exact right angles with the
+proper course, sending his chainmen forward with markers. When
+he had thus passed the end of the pond Reade took another course
+at exactly right angles to the northerly course, but now going
+westerly. This he extended until it passed the pond by a few
+feet. Once more Reade laid out a course, southerly, at exact
+right angles with the westerly course, the southerly line being
+exactly four chains in length, as the northerly line had been.
+Now, the young engineer was able to resume his surveying toward
+the seventh stake. The extra route that he had followed made
+three sides of a square. Tom was now in line again, with the
+pond passed, and the exact distance between the sixth and seventh
+stakes.
+
+"I guess that was where Rutter was sure he'd have me," chuckled
+Tom quietly. "He's probe ably waiting ahead to see me come hot-footing
+over the trail to ask for orders."
+
+At the tenth stake Tom found "Hazelton" written thereon.
+
+"Men," said the young engineer, "I guess this is where we go forward
+and look for the crowd. Get up the stuff and we'll trot along."
+
+Nearly an hour of solid tramping over the trail followed before
+Tom and his party, guided by the rodman, came upon Harry Hazelton.
+Jack Rutter, chewing a blade of grass, sat under a tree at a
+little distance from where Harry was watching and signaling to
+two chainmen who were getting a distance.
+
+"Is your own work all done?" asked Rutter.
+
+"Yes, sir," Tom answered.
+
+"Let me see your field notes."
+
+Reade passed over the book containing them. From an inner pocket
+Rutter drew out his own field note book. Before another minute
+had passed Tom had opened his eyes very wide.
+
+"Your field notes are all straight, my boy. If you've made any
+errors, then I've made the same."
+
+"You've already been over this work that we've been doing?" demanded
+Tom, feeling somewhat abashed.
+
+"Of course," nodded the older and more experienced engineer.
+"You don't for a moment suppose we'd trust you with original work
+until we had tried you out, do you? We have all the field notes
+for at least three miles more ahead of here. Hazelton!"
+
+"Coming," said Harry, after jotting down his last observations
+and the distance.
+
+"Let me see your last notes, Hazelton," directed Rutter. "Yes;
+your work is all right."
+
+"What do you know about this, Harry?" laughingly demanded Reade.
+
+"I've suspected for the last two hours that Mr. Rutter was merely
+trying us out over surveyed courses," laughed Harry.
+
+"If you don't know how to do anything other than transit work,"
+Rutter declared, "the chief can use all your time at that. He'll
+be pleased when I tell him that you're at least as good surveyors
+as I am. And, Reade, I see from your notes that you knew how
+to measure across a pond that your chainmen couldn't ford."
+
+"Mr. Price taught me that trick, back in Gridley," Tom responded.
+
+Suddenly Jack Rutter sprang to his feet sniffing vigorously.
+
+"Boys," he announced, "an adventure is coming our way. Can you
+guess what it is?"
+
+Tom and Harry gazed at him blankly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+TOM DOESN'T MIND "ARTILLERY"
+
+
+"I give it up," Reade replied.
+
+"Well, it's dinner time," declared Rutter, displaying the face
+of his watch.
+
+"Do we have to walk all the way back to camp?" queried Harry,
+who knew that no provisions had been brought with them.
+
+"No; camp is going to be brought to us," smiled Rutter. "At least,
+a part of the camp will be brought here. Look up the trail there,
+at that highest rise. Do you see dust near there?"
+
+"Yes," nodded Tom.
+
+"A burro pack-train, conveying our food and that of the other
+surveying parties ahead of us," nodded Rutter. "You'll find the
+cook's helper, Bob, in charge of it."
+
+"Is that the way the meals are brought out every day?" asked Hazelton.
+
+"No; but now we're getting pretty far from camp, and it would
+waste a lot of our time to go back and forth. So our noon meals
+will come by burro route. Tomorrow or the day after the camp
+will be moved forward."
+
+"How long before that train will be here?" Tom wanted to know.
+
+"Probably ten minutes," guessed Rutter.
+
+"Then I'm going to see if I can't find some little stream such
+as I've passed this morning," Tom went on. "I want to wash before
+I'm introduced to clean food."
+
+"I'll go along presently," nodded Harry to his chum. "There's
+something about the spirit level on this transit of mine that
+I want to inspect."
+
+So Tom Reade trudged off into the brush alone. After a few minutes
+he returned.
+
+"That burro outfit in sight?" he called, as he neared the trail.
+
+"No," answered Rutter. "But it's close. Once in a while I can
+hear a burro clicking his hoofs against stones."
+
+Harry appeared two minutes later, just as the foremost burro,
+with Bob by its head, put in an appearance about fifty yards away.
+
+"All ready for you, Bob," called Rutter good-humoredly.
+
+"You gentlemen of the engineer corps are always ready," grunted
+the cook's helper.
+
+A quick stop was made, Bob unloading tin plates, bowls and cups.
+
+"Soup!" cried Rutter in high glee. "This is fine living for buck
+engineers, Bob!"
+
+"There's even dessert," returned the cook's helper gravely, exposing
+an entire apple pie.
+
+There was also meat, still fairly warm, as well as canned vegetables
+in addition to potatoes. A pot of hot coffee finished the repast
+that Bob unloaded at this point.
+
+"Everything but napkins!" chuckled Rutter, as he and the boys
+quickly "set table" on the ground.
+
+"No; something else is missing," answered Tom gravely. "Bob forgot
+the finger-bowls."
+
+The helper, beginning to feel that he was being "guyed," took
+refuge in cold indifference.
+
+"Just stack the things up at this point when you're through," directed
+Bob. "I'll pick 'em up when I come back on the trail."
+
+Rutter, like a good chief, saw to it that his two assistants and
+the chainmen were started on their meal ere he himself began.
+In half an hour every morsel of food and the final drop of coffee
+had disappeared.
+
+"Twenty minutes to loaf," advised Rutter, throwing himself on
+the ground and closing his eyes. "I'll take a nap. You'd better
+follow my example."
+
+"Then who'll call us?" asked Tom.
+
+"I will," gaped Rutter.
+
+"Without a clock to ring an alarm?"
+
+"Humph! Any real backwoods engineer can wake up in twenty minutes
+if he sets his mind on it," retorted Jack.
+
+This was a fact, though it was the first that Tom or Harry had
+heard of it.
+
+"See the time?" called Rutter, holding out his watch. "Twenty
+minutes of one. I'll call you at one o'clock---see if I don't."
+
+In that fine air, with all the warmth of the noon hour, there
+was no difficulty in going to sleep. Truth to tell, Tom and Harry
+had tramped so far that forenoon that they were decidedly tired.
+Within sixty seconds both "cubs" were sound asleep.
+
+"One o'clock!" called Rutter, sitting up and consulting his watch.
+"Fall to, slaves! There is a big batch of work awaiting us.
+Hazelton, you can go right on where you left off. Survey along
+carefully until you come upon a stake marked 'Reade.' Then come
+forward until you find us. Reade, I'll go along with you and
+show you where to break in."
+
+Preceded by their chainmen, Rutter and Reade trudged along the
+trail for something like a mile.
+
+"Halt," ordered Jack Rutter. "Reade, write your autograph on that
+stake and begin."
+
+Tom stepped over to the transit, adjusting it carefully and setting
+the hanging plummet on dead centre with the nail head in the top
+of the short stake.
+
+"Never set up a transit again," directed Rutter, "without making
+sure that your levels are absolutely true, and that your vernier
+arrangement is in order."
+
+"I don't believe you'll ever catch me at that, Mr. Rutter," Tom
+answered, busying himself with the finer adjustments of the transit.
+"Mr. Price pounded that into me every time that he took me out
+in the field."
+
+"Nevertheless," went on Rutter, "I have known older engineers
+than you, Reade, who became careless, and their carelessness cost
+their employers a lot of wasted time and money. Now, you-----"
+
+At this juncture Jack Rutter suddenly crouched behind a low ledge
+at the right.
+
+"Get behind here, quickly, Reade!" called Rutter. "Bad Pete is
+up the hillside, about two hundred yards from you-----"
+
+"I haven't time to bother with him, now," Tom broke in composedly.
+
+"Duck fast, boy! Pete has an ugly grin on his face, and he's
+reaching for his pistol. He's got it out---he's going to shoot!"
+whispered Rutter, drawing his head down where it would be safe
+from flying bullets.
+
+The chainmen, lounging nearby, had wasted no time in getting safely
+to cover.
+
+"Going to shoot, is he?" murmured Tom, without glancing away from
+the instrument. "Does Peter really know how to shoot,"
+
+"You'll find out! Jump---like a flash, boy!"
+
+Tom went calmly on tinkering with the mechanism of his instrument.
+
+Bang! sounded up the trail. Tom's fingers didn't falter as he
+adjusted a small, brass screw.
+
+Bang! came the second shot. Tom betrayed no more annoyance than
+before. Bad Pete was aiming to drive bullets into the ground close
+to the young engineer's feet, making him skip about. The sixth shot
+Pete was saving for clipping Reade's hat from his head.
+
+The shots continued to ring out. Tom, though he appeared to be
+absorbed in his instrument, counted. When he had counted the
+sixth shot Reade dropped suddenly, picked up a stone that lay
+at his feet, and whirled about.
+
+Tom Reade hadn't devoted years to ball-playing without knowing
+how to throw straight. The stone left his hand, arching upward,
+and flew straight toward Bad Pete, who had advanced steadily as
+he fired.
+
+Whiff! Though Pete tried, too late, to dodge the stone, it landed
+against his sombrero, carrying that away without injuring the
+owner.
+
+"Kindly clear out!" called Tom coolly. "You and your noise annoy me
+when I'm trying to do a big afternoon's work."
+
+Snatching up his sombrero, Bad Pete vanished into a clump of brush.
+
+Jack Rutter leaped up from his haven of safety, advancing swiftly
+to his cub assistant.
+
+"Reade," he exclaimed, with ungrudging admiration, "you're the
+coolest young fellow I ever met, without exception. But you're
+foolhardy, boy. Bad Pete is a real shot. One of these days,
+when you're just as cool, he'll fill you full of lead!"
+
+"If he does?" retorted Tom, again bending over his transit, "and
+if I notice it, I'll throw a bigger stone at him than I did that
+time, and it'll land on him a few inches lower down."
+
+"But, boy, don't you understand that the days of David and Goliath
+are gone by," remonstrated Rutter. "It's true you're turned the
+laugh on Pete, but that fellow won't forgive you. He may open
+on you again within two minutes."
+
+"I don't believe he will," replied Tom, with his quiet smile.
+"At the same time, I'll be prepared for him."
+
+Bending to the ground, and rummaging about a bit, Reade selected
+three stones that would throw well. These he dropped into one
+of his pockets.
+
+"Now, let the bad man trot himself on, if he has to," added the
+cub engineer, waving a signal to the rodman, who had just halted
+at the next stake.
+
+"Well, of all the cool ones!" grunted Rutter, under his breath.
+"But, then, Reade's a tenderfoot. He doesn't understand just
+how dangerous a fellow like Pete can be."
+
+The chainman started away to measure the distance. From up the
+hillside came sounds of smothered but very bad language.
+
+"There's our friend Peter again," Tom chuckled to Rutter.
+
+"Yes, and the ruffian may open on you again at any moment," warned
+Jack, keeping an anxious glance turned in the direction whence
+came the disturbing voice of Bad Pete.
+
+"Oh, I don't think he will," drawled Tom, making a hand signal
+to the leading chainman to step a little more to the left. "I
+hope not, anyway, for the noise of revolver shots takes my thoughts
+away from my work."
+
+Jack Rutter said no more after that, though through the rest of
+the afternoon he kept an alert lookout for signs of Pete. There
+were none, however. Rather earlier than usual, on account of
+the distance back to camp, Rutter knocked off work for the entire
+party and the start on the return to camp was made.
+
+Harry Hazelton was considerably excited when he heard the news
+of the firing on his chum. Reade, however, appeared to be but
+little interested in the subject.
+
+Pete was not in camp that evening.
+
+Rutter went at once to the tent of the chief, to tell him how
+well the "cubs" had done during the day. Nor did Jack forget
+to relate the encounter with Bad Pete.
+
+Just as the underlings of the staff were seating themselves around
+the table in their mess, Mr. Thurston thrust his head in at the
+doorway.
+
+"Reade," called the chief engineer, "I have heard about your trouble
+with Pete today."
+
+"There wasn't any real trouble, sir," Tom answered.
+
+"Fortunately for you, Reade, Pete didn't intend to hit you. If
+he had meant to do so, he'd have done it. I've seen him shoot
+all the spots out of a ten of clubs. Don't provoke the fellow,
+Reade, or he'll shoot you full of fancy holes. Of course it showed
+both grit and coolness on your part in keeping steadily on with
+your work all the time the fellow was firing at you. Still, it
+was unwise to expose yourself needlessly to danger."
+
+"I didn't consider Bad Pete particularly dangerous," Tom rejoined.
+
+"A lawless man with a loaded revolver is hardly a safe person
+to trifle with," retorted Mr. Thurston dryly.
+
+"I see that I shall have to make a confession," smiled Tom. "It
+was this way, sir. When Hazelton and I were on our way west Harry
+insisted that we were coming into a dangerous country and that
+we'd need firearms. So Harry bought two forty-five six-shooters
+and several boxes of cartridges, too. I was provoked when I heard
+about it, for we hadn't any too much money, and Harry had bought
+the revolvers out of our joint treasury."
+
+"I felt sure we'd need the pistols," interrupted Hazelton. "Today's
+affair shows that I was right. Tom, you'll have to carry one
+of the revolvers after this."
+
+"I'm no gun-packer," retorted Tom scornfully. "Young men have
+no business carting firearms about unless they're hunting or going
+to war. Any fellow who carries a pistol as he would a lead pencil
+is either a coward or a lunatic."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say that, Reade," nodded Mr. Thurston approvingly.
+"Two of my staff carry pistols, but they do so under my orders.
+In the first place they're grown men, not boys. In the second
+place, they're working over a stretch of ground where rattlesnakes
+are thick. Your coolness today served you better than a pistol
+would have done. If you had had a revolver, and had drawn it,
+Pete would have drilled you through the head."
+
+"Drilled me through the head---with what?" asked Tom, smiling.
+
+"With a bullet, of course, young man," retorted Mr. Thurston.
+
+"I don't believe he would have gone as far as that," laughed Tom.
+"You see, sir, it was like this: When I found Harry so set on
+carrying a pistol, I went down deep in my own pocket and bought
+two boxes of blank cartridges to fit the forty-fives. I thought
+if Harry were going to do some shooting, it would be the part
+of friendship to fix him so that he could do it in safety to himself
+and others."
+
+Harry's face turned decidedly red. He was beginning to feel foolish.
+
+"Now, this morning," Tom continued, "when I got the khaki out
+of my dunnage, I ran across the blanks. I don't know what made
+me do it, but I dropped the box of blanks into one of my pockets.
+This noon, when I went off to find a stream where I could wash
+up, I almost stepped on our friend Peter, asleep under a bush.
+For greater comfort he had taken off his belt and holster. Somehow,
+I didn't like the idea of his being there. As softly as I could
+I crept close. I emptied his revolver and fitted in blanks from
+my own box. Then I took about twenty cartridges out of Peter's
+belt and replaced them with blanks."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me," broke in Rutter, "that Bad Pete, when
+he turned his revolver loose on you, was shooting nothing but
+blanks?"
+
+"That was all he had to shoot," Tom returned coolly. "And blanks
+were all he had in his belt to reload with. Don't you remember
+when we heard him making a noise up the hillside, and talking
+in dots and dashes!"
+
+"I do," nodded Rutter, looking half dazed.
+
+"That," grinned Reade, "was when he started in to reload? and
+discovered that he had nothing on hand but temperance cartridges.
+Here-----" Tom began to unload one of his pockets upon the wooden
+table before the astonished eyes of the others. There was a mixture
+of his own blank cartridges with the real ammunition that he had
+stealthily abstracted from Bad Pete's revolver and belt.
+
+Such a whoop of glee ascended that the head chainman came running
+from the other nearby mess tent to see what was up.
+
+"Just a little joke among our youngsters, my man," explained Mr.
+Thurston. "The young gentlemen are going to keep the joke to
+themselves for the present, though."
+
+So the mystified and disappointed chainman returned to his own
+crowd.
+
+"Let me see, Reade," continued Mr. Thurston, turning once more
+to Tom, "what is your salary?"
+
+"I was taken on, sir, at forty dollars a month, as a starter,"
+Tom replied.
+
+"A young man with your size of head is worth more than that to
+the company. We'll call it fifty a month, Reade, and keep our
+eyes on you for signs of further improvement," said the chief
+engineer, as he turned to go back to his own waiting dinner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE BITE FROM THE BUSH
+
+
+From the time that they parted in the morning, until they started
+to go back to camp in the afternoon, Tom and Harry did not meet
+the next day. Each, with his chainmen, was served from Bob's
+burro train at noon.
+
+"Did you see Bad Pete today?" was Harry's greeting, as they Started
+back over the trail.
+
+"No."
+
+"Did you hear from him or of him in any way?" pressed Hazelton.
+
+"Not a sign of any sort from Peter," Tom went on. "I've a theory
+as to what's keeping him away. He's on a journey."
+
+"Journey?"
+
+"Yes; between you and me, I believe that Peter has gone in search
+of someone who can sell him, or give him, a few forty-five cartridges."
+
+"He'd better apply to you, then, Tom," grinned Harry.
+
+"Why, I couldn't sell him any," Tom replied.
+
+"What did you do with those you had last night?"
+
+"You remember the unfordable pond that came in one of my courses
+yesterday?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"To-day I threw all of Peter's .45's into the middle of the pond.
+They must have sunk a foot into the mud by this time."
+
+"Seriously, Tom, don't you believe that you'd better take one
+of the revolvers that I bought and wear it on a belt?"
+
+"Not I," retorted Reade. "Harry, I wish you could get that sort
+of foolishness out of your head. A revolver is of no possible
+use to a man who hasn't any killing to do. I'm trying to learn
+to be a civil engineer, not a man-killer."
+
+"Then I believe that Bad Pete will 'get' you one of these days,"
+sighed Hazelton.
+
+"Wait until he does," smiled Tom. "Then you can have the fun
+of coming around and saying 'I told you so.'"
+
+Their chainmen were ahead of the "cub" engineers on the trail.
+Tom and Harry were talking earnestly when they heard a pony's
+hoofs behind them. Hazelton turned with a start.
+
+"Oh, it's Rutter mounted," Hazelton said, with a sigh of relief.
+"I was afraid it was Bad Pete."
+
+"Take my word for it, Harry. Peter is a good deal of a coward.
+He won't dare to show up until he has some real cartridges.
+The temperance kind do not give a man like Peter any real sense
+of security in the world."
+
+Rutter rode along on his sure-footed mountain pony at a rapid
+jog. When he came close, Tom and Harry stepped aside into the
+brush to let him go by on the narrow trail.
+
+"Don't get off into the brush that way," yelled Rutter from the
+distance.
+
+"We're trying to give you room," Tom called.
+
+"I don't need the room yet. I won't run over you, anyway. Stand out
+of the brush, I tell you."
+
+Tom good-humoredly obeyed, Harry moving, too, though starting
+an instant later.
+
+Prompt as he was, however, Tom Reade was a fraction of a second
+too late.
+
+Behind them there was a half-whirring, half-clicking sound.
+
+Then Reade felt a stinging sensation in his left leg three or
+four inches from the heel.
+
+"Look out!" yelled Rutter, more excitedly than before. "Get away
+from there!"
+
+Tom ran some distance down the trail. Then he halted, laughing.
+
+"I wonder what's on Rut's mind," he smiled, as Hazelton joined
+him.
+
+Jack Rutter came at a gallop, reining up hard as he reached where
+Tom had stood.
+
+Again that whirring, clicking sound. Rutter's pony reared.
+
+"Still, you brute!" commanded Rutter sternly. Then, without waiting
+to see whether his mount would stand alone, Rutter leaped from
+saddle, going forward with his quirt---a rawhide riding whip---uplifted.
+
+Into the brush from which Tom had stepped Rutter went cautiously,
+though he did not lose much time about it.
+
+Swish! swish! swish! sounded the quirt, as Rutter laid it on
+the ground ahead of him. Then he stepped out. The pony had drawn
+back thirty or forty feet and now stood trembling, nostrils distended.
+
+"Is that the way you take your exercise?" Reade demanded.
+
+Rutter, however, came running along the trail, his face white
+as though from worry.
+
+"Reade," he demanded, "Did that thing strike you?"
+
+"What thing," asked Tom in wonderment.
+
+"The rattler that I killed!"
+
+"Rattler?" gasped both cub engineers.
+
+"Yes. From the distance I thought I saw it strike out at you.
+There's a nest of the reptiles at some point near that brush.
+That's why I warned you to get away from there. Never stand
+in brush, in the Rockies, unless you've looked before stepping.
+Were you struck?"
+
+"I believe something did sting me," Reade admitted, remembering
+that smarting sensation in his left leg.
+
+"Which leg was it? demanded Rutter, halting beside the cub.
+
+"Left---a little above the ankle," replied Tom.
+
+"Take off your legging. I must have a look. Hazelton, call to
+one of your chainmen and send him back to make sure of my pony."
+
+Harry hastened to obey, then came back breathless. Rutter, in
+the meantime, had turned up enough of Tom's left trousers' leg
+to bare a spot on the flesh that was red. There were fang marks
+in the centre of this reddened surface.
+
+"You got it, boy," spoke Rutter huskily. "Now we'll have to go
+to work like lightning to save you."
+
+"How are you going to do it?" asked Tom coolly, though he felt
+decidedly queer over the startling news.
+
+"Hazelton," demanded Rutter, turning upon the other cub engineer,
+"have you nerve enough to put your lips to that wound, and draw,
+draw draw as hard as you can, and keep on until you've drawn all
+the poison out?"
+
+"I have," nodded Harry, sinking to his knees beside his chum.
+"I'll draw all the poison out if I have to swallow enough to
+kill me."
+
+"You won't poison yourself, Hazelton," replied Rutter quickly,
+as one of the chainmen came near with the recaptured pony. "Snake
+venom isn't deadly in the stomach---only when it gets into the
+blood direct. There's no danger unless you've a cut or a deep
+scratch in your mouth. Spit the stuff out as you draw."
+
+Having given these directions, Jack Rutter turned, with the help
+of one of the chainmen to fasten a blanket behind the saddle to
+make a sort of extra saddle. The blanket had been lying rolled
+at the back of the saddle.
+
+Harry, in the meantime, without flinching, performed his task
+well. Had he but known it, Rutter's explanation of the lack of
+danger was true; but in that moment, with his chum's life at stake,
+Harry didn't care a fig whether the explanation were true or not.
+All he thought of was saving Tom.
+
+"I reckon that part of the job has been done well," nodded Rutter,
+turning back from the horse. "Now, Reade, I want you to mount
+behind me and hold on tightly, for we're going to do some hard,
+swift riding. The sooner we get you to camp the surer you will
+be of coming out of this scrape all right."
+
+"I've never had much experience in horsemanship, and I may out
+a sorry figure at it," laughed Reade, as, with Harry's help he
+got up behind Rutter.
+
+"Horsemanship doesn't count---speed does," replied Rutter tersely.
+"Hold on tightly, and we'll make as good time as possible. I'm
+going to start now."
+
+Away they went, at a hard gallop, Tom doing his best to hold on,
+but feeling like a jumping-jack.
+
+"It won't take us more than twenty minutes," promised Jack Rutter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+WHAT A SQUAW KNEW
+
+
+All the way to camp Rutter kept the pony at a hard gallop.
+
+"Thurston! Mr. Thurston!" he shouted. "Be quick, please!"
+
+Even as the young man called, Mr. Thurston ran out of his tent.
+
+"You know something about rattlesnake bites, I believe?" Rutter
+went on hurriedly, as Tom Reade slipped to the ground. "The boy
+has been bitten by one and we'll have to work quickly."
+
+"Don't bring any liquor, though," objected Reade, leaning up against
+a tree. "If liquor is your cure for snakebites I prefer to take
+my chances with the bite."
+
+"Get the shoe off and roll up the trousers," directed the chief
+engineer, without loss of words. "Fortunately, I believe we have
+someone here who knows more about treating the bites than I do.
+Squaw!"
+
+An Indian woman who had been sitting on the grass before the chief's
+tent, a medley pack of Indian baskets arranged before her, glanced up.
+
+"Snake! You know what to do," went on Mr. Thurston hurriedly. "You
+know what to do----eh? Pay you well."
+
+At the last three magic words the aged squaw rose and hobbled quickly
+forward.
+
+"Take boy him tent," directed the Indian woman.
+
+"I can walk," remarked Tom.
+
+"No; they take you. Heap better," commanded the woman.
+
+Instantly Mr. Thurston and Rutter took hold of Tom, raising him
+into their arms. Through the flap of his tent they bore him,
+depositing him on his cot. The Indian woman followed them inside.
+
+"Now you go out," she ordered, with a sweep of her hand. "Send
+him cookman. Hot water---heap boil."
+
+Thus ordered, Jake Wren came on the run with a kettle of boiling
+water. The Indian squaw received it with a grunt, ordering that
+bowls and cups be also brought. When Wren came the second time
+he lingered curiously.
+
+"You go out; no see what do," said the squaw.
+
+So Jake departed, the squaw tying the flap of the tent after he
+had gone. Then, from the bosom of her dress she drew out a few
+small packages of herbs. The contents of these she distributed
+in different bowels and cups.
+
+"I'd like to see what the old witch is doing, and how she's doing
+it," declared Rutter in a whisper.
+
+"She'll stop short if she catches you looking in on her," replied
+the chief, with a smile. "For some reason these Indians are very
+jealous of their secrets in treating snakebites. They're wizards,
+though, these same red-skinned savages."
+
+"You believe, then, that she can pull Reade through?" asked Rutter
+eagerly.
+
+"If she knows her business, and if there's any such thing as saving
+the boy she'll do it," declared Mr. Thurston, as they reached
+the door of the chief's tent. "Will you come inside, Rutter!
+You look badly broken up."
+
+"I am, and I shall be, just as long as Reade is in any danger,"
+Rutter admitted. "Reade is a mighty fine boy and I'm fond of
+him. Besides, more than a little of our success in getting the
+road through on time depends on the boy."
+
+"Is Reade really so valuable, then?"
+
+"He goes over the course, Mr. Thurston, as rapidly as any man
+in our corps, and his work is very accurately done. Moreover,
+he never kicks. If you told him to work half the night, on top
+of a day's work, he'd do it."
+
+"Then Reade, if he recovers, must be watched and rewarded for
+anything he does for us," murmured Mr. Thurston.
+
+"Don't say, 'if he recovers,' chief," begged Jack. "I hate to
+think of his not pulling through from this snakebite."
+
+"What became of the reptile that did the trick?" asked Mr. Thurston.
+
+"That crawler will never bite anything else," muttered Rutter.
+"I got the thing with my riding quirt."
+
+Not very long after Harry Hazelton reached camp, well in advance
+of the chainmen, for Harry, good school athlete that he was, had
+jog-trotted every step of the way in.
+
+"Where's Tom?" Hazelton demanded.
+
+"Here," called a voice from Reade's tent.
+
+Hazelton turned in that direction, but Mr. Thurston looked out
+from the large tent, calling:
+
+"Don't go there now, Hazelton. You wouldn't be admitted. Come here."
+
+Despite his long run, Harry's face displayed pallor as he came
+breathlessly into Mr. Thurston's field abode. In a few words,
+however, the lad was acquainted with the situation as far as it
+had developed.
+
+In the meantime what was the squaw doing with Tom? It must be
+admitted that Reade hadn't any too clear an idea. The gaunt old
+red woman poured hot water, small quantities at a time, into the
+bowls and cups in which she had distributed the herbs. Then she
+stirred vigorously, in the meantime muttering monotonously in
+her own language.
+
+"She isn't relying on the herbs alone," muttered Tom curiously
+to himself. "She's working up some kind of incantation. I wonder
+what effect she expects an Indian song to have on snake poison?"
+
+Presently the squaw turned, bringing one of the cupfuls to the
+wounded boy.
+
+"Sit up," she ordered. "Drink!"
+
+Tom nearly dropped it, it was so hot.
+
+"Drink!" repeated the squaw.
+
+"But it's so hot it'll burn my gullet out," remonstrated Reade.
+
+"You know more I do?" demanded the squaw stolidly. "Drink!"
+
+Tom took a sip, and shuddered from the intense heat of the stuff.
+
+"Humph! White man him heap papoose!" muttered the squaw, scornfully.
+"You want live, drink!"
+
+Tom took a longer swallow of the hot stuff. Whew, but it was
+bitter!
+
+"The bronze lady is trying to turn me inside out!" gasped the
+boy to himself.
+
+"Drink---all down!" commanded the squaw with scarcely less scorn
+than before in her voice.
+
+This time Tom took a hard grip on himself and swallowed all the
+liquid. For a moment, he thought the nauseating stuff would kill him.
+
+"Now, eat grass," ordered the squaw.
+
+"Meaning eat these herbs," demanded Tom, glancing up.
+
+"Yes. Heap quick."
+
+"To make a fellow eat these herbs after drinking the brew from
+them is what I call rubbing it in," grimaced Reade.
+
+"Now, this," continued the squaw, calmly handing a second cup
+to Tom.
+
+"It's all right for _you_ to be calm," thought Tom, as he took
+the cup from her. "All you have to do is to stand by and watch
+me. You don't have to drink any of these fearful messes."
+
+However, Tom brought all his will power into play, swallowing
+a second brew, compared with which the first had been delicious.
+
+"Eat this grass, too"? inquired Tom, gazing at the squaw.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Tom obeyed.
+
+"I shall be very, very careful not to meet any more snakes," he
+shuddered, after getting the second dose down.
+
+Now the squaw busied herself with spreading soaked herbs on a
+piece of cloth that she had torn from one of Tom's white shirts'
+to which she had helped herself from his dunnage box.
+
+"What's a dollar shirt, anyway, when an interesting young man's
+life is at stake" mused Reade. "Ow---ow---ooch!"
+
+"You baby---papoose?" inquired the squaw calmly. She had slapped
+on Tom's leg, over the bite, a poultice that, to his excited mind,
+was four hundred degrees hotter than boiling water.
+
+"Oh, no," grimaced Tom. "That's fine and soothing. But it's
+growing cool. Haven't you something hotter?"
+
+Just five seconds later Reade regretted his rashness, for, snatching
+off the first poultice, the squaw slapped on a second that seemed,
+in some way, ten times more powerful---and twenty times hotter.
+
+"It's queer what an awful amount of heat a squaw can get out of
+a kettle of hot water, thought the suffering boy. I'll wager
+some of the heat is due to the herbs themselves. O-o-o-o-ow! Ouch!"
+
+For now the third poultice, most powerful of all, was in place,
+and Mrs. Squaw was binding it on as though she intended it never
+to come off.
+
+Two minutes after that Tom Reade commenced to retch violently.
+With a memory of the messes that he had swallowed he didn't wonder.
+The squaw now stepped outside, calling for coffee. This was
+brought. Tom was obliged to drink several cupfuls, after which
+he began to feel decidedly more comfortable.
+
+"Now, take nap," advised the squaw, and quitted the tent.
+
+"The bronze lady seems to know what she's doing," thought Tom.
+"I guess I'll take the whole of her course of treatment." Thereupon
+he turned his face to the wall. Within sixty seconds he slept.
+
+"How's Reade?" demanded Harry, rising eagerly as the squaw stepped
+inside the chief's tent.
+
+"He sleep," muttered the squaw.
+
+"He---he---isn't dead!" choked Harry, turning deathly pale.
+
+"You think I make death medicine?" demanded the squaw scornfully.
+"You think me heap fool?"
+
+"The young man will be all right, squaw?" asked Mr. Thurston.
+
+"Humph! Maybe," grunted the red woman. "Yes, I think so. You
+know bimeby."
+
+"That's the Indian contempt for death," explained the chief engineer,
+turning to Harry. "I imagine that Reade is doing all right, or
+she wouldn't have left him."
+
+However, Hazelton was not satisfied with that. He slipped out,
+crossed camp and stealthily peeped inside of the tent. Then
+Hazelton slipped back to Mr. Thurston to report.
+
+"If Tom doesn't swallow some of those big snores of his, and choke
+to death, I think he'll get well," said Harry, with a laugh that
+testified to the great relief that had come to his feelings. With
+that all hands had to be content for the time being.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+'GENE BLACK, TROUBLE-MAKER
+
+
+In the morning Tom Reade declared that he was all right. The
+old Indian squaw had pronounced him safe, and had gone on her way.
+
+"You'll stay in camp today, Reade," announced Mr. Thurston, dropping
+into the mess tent.
+
+"With all the work there is ahead of us, sir?" cried Reade aghast.
+
+"That's why you'll stay," nodded Mr Thurston. "Your life has
+been saved, but after the shock you had yesterday you're not as
+strong as you may feel. One day of good rest in camp will fit
+you for what's ahead of us in the days to come. The strain of
+tramping miles and working like a steam engine all day is not
+to be thought of for you today. Tomorrow you'll go out with the
+rest."
+
+Tom sighed. True, he did not feel up to the mark, and was eating
+a very light breakfast. Still he chafed at the thought of inaction
+for a whole day.
+
+"The chief wouldn't order you to stay in," remarked Blaisdell,
+after Mr. Thurston had gone, "unless he knew that to be the best
+thing for you."
+
+So, after the engineers, their chainmen and rodmen had left camp
+Tom wandered about disconsolately. He tried to talk to the cook,
+but Jake and his helper were both rushed in getting the meal that
+was to be taken out over the trail by burro train.
+
+"Lonely, Reade?" called the chief from his tent.
+
+"Yes, sir," Tom nodded. "I wish I had something to do."
+
+"Perhaps I can find work for you in here. Come in."
+
+Tom entered eagerly. Mr. Thurston was seated at the large table,
+a mass of maps and field notes before him.
+
+"How are you on drawing, Reade?" queried his chief.
+
+"Poor, sir."
+
+"Never had any training in that line?"
+
+"I can draw the lines of a map, sir, and get it pretty straight,
+as far as the mathematics of map-drawing goes," Tom answered.
+"But another man has to go over my work and put in the fine touches
+of the artist. You know what I mean, sir; the fancy fixings of
+a map."
+
+"Yes, I know," nodded Mr. Thurston. "I can sympathize with you,
+too, Reade, for, though I always longed to do artistic platting
+(map-work) I was always like yourself, and could do only the mathematical
+part of it. You can help me at that, however, if you are careful
+enough. Take a seat at that drawing table; and I'll see what
+you can do."
+
+First, Reade stepped to a box that held map paper. Taking out
+a sheet, he placed it on the surface of the drawing table, then
+stuck in thumb-tacks at each of the four corners.
+
+"All ready, sir," he announced.
+
+Mr. Thurston stepped over with an engineer's field note book.
+
+"See if these notes are all clear," directed the chief engineer.
+
+"Yes, sir; I know what the notes call for," Tom answered confidently.
+
+"Then I'll show you just what's wanted Reade," continued the chief.
+
+After some minutes of explanation Tom picked up the T-square,
+placing the top at the side of the drawing surface. Then against
+the limb of the "T" Tom laid the base of a right-angled triangle.
+Along this edge he drew his perpendicular north-and-south line
+in the upper left-hand corner. He crossed this with a shorter
+line at right angles, establishing his east-and-west line. Mr.
+Thurston, standing at the cub engineer is back, looked on closely.
+
+Tom now settled on his beginning point, and made the dot with
+his pencil. From that point he worked rapidly, making all his
+measurements and dotting his points. Then he began to draw in.
+The chief engineer went back to his table.
+
+After Tom had worked an hour the chief interrupted him.
+
+"Now, Reade, get up and let me sit down there for a little while.
+I want to go over your work."
+
+For some minutes Mr. Thurston checked off the lad's work.
+
+"You really know what you are doing, Reade," he said at last.
+"Your line measurements are right, and your angles tally faultlessly,
+I'm glad I kept you back today. You can help me here even more
+than in the field. Tomorrow, however, I shall have to keep Rice
+back. He's our ornamental draughtsman, and puts in the fine,
+flowery work on our maps. Here's some of his work."
+
+Tom gazed intently at the sheet that Mr. Thurston spread for his
+inspection.
+
+"Rice does it well," remarked Reade thoughtfully. "You've one
+other man in the corps who can do the pretty draughting about as well."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"Hazelton. Harry doesn't do the mathematical part as easily as
+I do, but he has a fine talent for fancy drawing, sir."
+
+"Then I'll try Hazelton tonight," decided Mr. Thurston aloud.
+"You may go on with your drawing now, Reade. Hello; someone
+is coming into camp."
+
+Mr. Thurston stepped over to the doorway in time to see a young
+man riding up on a pony.
+
+"Where's the chief engineer?" called the newcomer.
+
+"You're looking at him," replied Mr. Thurston.
+
+The young man, who appeared to be about twenty-eight years of
+age, rode his horse to a near-by tree, then dismounted gracefully
+and tied his mount.
+
+The young man was well-built, dark-haired and smooth-faced, with
+snapping black eyes. There was an easy, half-swaggering grace
+about him suggesting one who had seen much of free life in the
+open air. For one attired for riding in saddle over mountain
+trails the stranger was not a little of a dandy in appearance.
+His khaki trousers and leggings, despite his probably long ride,
+were spotless. His dark-blue flannel shirt showed no speck of
+dust; his black, flowing tie was perfection; his light-hued sombrero
+looked as though it had just left the store.
+
+"If you are Mr. Thurston, I have the honor to present a letter,"
+was the stranger's greeting as he entered the large tent.
+
+Mr. Thurston glanced at the envelope, reading: "Mr. Eugene Black."
+
+"Be seated, Mr. Black," requested the chief, then opened the letter.
+
+"Oh, you're a new engineer, sent out from the offices in New York,"
+continued the chief.
+
+"Yes," smiled the newcomer.
+
+"An experienced engineer, the vice-president of the company informs
+me."
+
+"Six years of experience," smiled the newcomer, showing his white,
+handsome teeth.
+
+Tom glanced up just in time to see that smile. "Somehow, I don't
+quite like the looks of Mr. Black," Reade decided.
+
+"What is your especial line of work, Mr. Black?" Thurston continued.
+
+"Anything in usual field work, sir."
+
+"This letter states that you expect one hundred and twenty-five
+dollars a month."
+
+"Then the letter is correct, sir."
+
+"All right, Mr. Black; we'll put you at work and let you prove
+that you're worth it," smiled Mr. Thurston pleasantly.
+
+"How soon shall I go to work, sir?" asked Black.
+
+"I expect my assistant, Mr. Blaisdell, here in about an hour.
+I'll send you out with him when he returns to field."
+
+"Then, if you're through with me at present, sir, I'll step outside
+and be within call."
+
+Tom and his chief were again alone. Reade kept steadily on with
+his work, and no word was spoken for half an hour. Then there
+came a commotion in camp, for four drovers came in with two dozen
+horses that had been ordered for the use of the engineering party.
+
+"Step outside, Reade, and see the horses, if you care to do so,"
+suggested Mr. Thurston, reaching for his sombrero.
+
+"Thank you, sir; but the horses will keep, and I'm greatly interested
+in finishing my drawing so that I can take up more work."
+
+"That young cub, Reade, is no idler." thought the chief, as he
+stepped into the open.
+
+Tom kept steadily at work.
+
+Ten minutes later, Thurston still being absent, Eugene Black strolled
+into the tent. He glanced at Tom's drawing with some contempt,
+then inquired:
+
+"Drawing, boy?"
+
+"Why, not?" laughed Tom. "I'm only one of the stable boys, and,
+as you can see, I'm currying a horse."
+
+"Stop that sort of nonsense with me, right at the start," flashed
+Black angrily, striding closer. "I don't allow boys to be fresh
+with me."
+
+"Where's the boy?" drawled Tom, turning slightly, for a better view \
+of the stranger's face.
+
+"You're one," snapped Black.
+
+"What are you?" Tom asked curiously.
+
+"I'm an engineer."
+
+"If that is anything to be chesty about, then I'm an engineer also,"
+Reade replied, rising.
+
+"Sit down, boy!" commanded Black angrily.
+
+The trace of frown on Reade's face disappeared. He smiled
+good-humoredly as he observed.
+
+"Black, I'm a bit uncertain about you."
+
+"_Mister_ Black, boy!" warned the other, his dark eyes snapping.
+"Why are you uncertain about me?"
+
+"I'm wondering," purred Tom gently, "whether you are just _trying_
+to be offensive, or whether you don't know any better than to talk
+and act the way you do?"
+
+"You young puppy, I'll teach you something right now," cried Black,
+stepping closer and raising a clenched fist.
+
+"Look out," begged Tom. "You'll upset my drawing table."
+
+Eugene Black closed in, striking out. Reade who felt that the
+situation didn't call for any fighting, retreated, still smiling.
+
+Whether by accident or design, Black, as he made a half turn to
+start after the cub engineer anew, brushed a corner of the unstable
+drawing table hard enough to tip it over. A bottle of drawing
+ink fell, too, splashing ugly black blotches over Tom's carefully
+drawn outlines of a map.
+
+"Now, you've done it!" exclaimed Tom.
+
+"I haven't quite finished," snapped the stranger, rushing after Reade.
+
+"I'm going to box your ears soundly, boy!"
+
+"Are you, indeed?" demanded Tom, halting. He was still smiling,
+but there was a stern look in his eyes. Tom no longer retreated,
+but stood awaiting Black's assault.
+
+Blanks fist shot out straight, but Reade didn't stop the blow.
+Instead, he ducked low. When he came up his arms enveloped Black's
+legs in one of the swift football tackles that Tom had learned
+with the Gridley High School football team.
+
+"You annoy me," drawled Tom, and hurled the fellow ten feet away.
+Black landed on his back with an angry roar, followed by cursing.
+
+"Profanity is always objectionable to a gentleman," declared Tom
+dryly, running over ere the newcomer could regain his feet. Once
+more Reade bent and rose. As he did so, Eugene Black shot through
+the tent doorway, landing on the ground a dozen feet beyond.
+
+Tom stood in the doorway, smiling. Black leaped to his feet.
+
+"You puppy!" gasped Black, sending his right hand back to his
+hip pocket. Tom didn't wait to see what he would bring out, but
+darted forward. This time he seized the stranger in a dead tackle,
+dropping him over on his back without throwing him.
+
+"Now, roll over," ordered Reade grimly. "I'm curious to see what
+you have in your pocket. Ah! So---this is it! You're another
+Peter Bad, are you?"
+
+Tom held in one hand a silver-plated revolver with ivory handle
+that he had snatched out of Black's pocket.
+
+"I wonder why it is," mocked Tom, grinning, "that nine out of
+every ten dude tenderfeet from the east come west with one of
+these things."
+
+Black charged the cub, intent on recapturing his pistol, but Reade
+shot out a foot, tripping him. Then Tom ran nimbly over to the
+cook tent. Here he halted, breaking the weapon at the breech
+and allowing the cartridges to drop into his hand. He transferred
+them to his pocket, then wheeled and picked up Jake's kitchen
+hatchet.
+
+With a few swift strokes from the head of the hatchet Tom put
+that firearm on the retired list for good.
+
+"Give me my pistol, boy!" choked Black, running up.
+
+"Certainly," rejoined Reade, wheeling and politely offering the
+ruined firearm. "I don't want it. I've no use for such things"
+
+Black took his weapon, gasped, then, seizing it by the barrel,
+leaped at Tom, intent on battering his head.
+
+"Here, what's the trouble?" cried Mr. Thurston, appearing around
+the corner of the cook house and promptly seizing Black by the
+collar of his flannel shirt.
+
+"Nothing much, sir," laughed Tom. "Mr. Black has just been showing
+me how bad men behave out in this part of the country."
+
+"This boy is a troublesome cub, Mr. Thurston," declared Black
+hotly. "Do you see what he has done to my revolvers"
+
+"How did Reade come to have it?" inquired Mr. Thurston.
+
+"He snatched it away from me."
+
+"Reade, is this true?" demanded the chief engineer, turning to
+the youth.
+
+"Yes, sir; as far as the story goes."
+
+"Tell me the whole truth of this affair," ordered Mr. Thurston
+sternly.
+
+Tom started to do so, modestly, but Black broke in angrily at
+points in the narrative.
+
+"The principal thing that I have against Mr. Black," Tom said,
+"is that he spoiled all my drawing work of this morning."
+
+"Yes; but how did I come to do it?" insisted the newcomer. "You
+pushed me against your drawing table."
+
+Tom started with astonishment.
+
+"My friend," he remarked, "Baron Munchausen never had anything
+on you!"
+
+"Careful, Reade! Don't pass the lie," ordered the chief engineer
+sternly. "I shall look fully into this matter, but at present
+I'm inclined to believe that you're more at fault than is Black.
+Return to the tent and start your drawing over again."
+
+There was a smile again on Tom's face as he turned back to make
+his spoiled work good.
+
+Mr. Thurston went back to his inspection of the ponies. Later,
+the chief engineer was able to pick up some details of the trouble
+from Jake Wren, who had seen Black reach for his revolver.
+
+"Understand two things, Mr. Black," said the chief briskly. "In
+the first place, it is not expected that the engineers of this
+corps will find any real cause for fighting. Second, I will tolerate
+no pistol nonsense here."
+
+Then he went back to Tom Reade and spoke to him more quietly.
+
+"Reade, if Black doesn't turn out to be a valuable man here he
+won't last long. If he is a good man, then you will find it necessary,
+perhaps, to use a little tact in dealing with him. Did you notice
+what snapping black eyes the man has? Men with such black eyes
+are usually impulsive. Remember that."
+
+"I never thought of that before, sir," Tom admitted dryly. "I
+really didn't know that people with black eyes are impulsive.
+This I do know, however, people who are too impulsive generally
+get black eyes!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+"DOCTORED" FIELD NOTES?
+
+
+There was no more trouble---immediately. When the other engineers
+heard of the row---which news they obtained through Jake, not
+from Reade---they soon made it plain to 'Gene Black that Tom Reade
+was a favorite in the corps. Black was therefore treated with
+a coldness that he strove hard to overcome.
+
+In the matter of being a capable civil engineer 'Gene Black speedily
+proved himself efficient. Assistant Chief Engineer Blaisdell
+soon reported at headquarters that the new member of the corps
+was an exceedingly valuable man. Black was therefore placed at
+the head of a leveling squad that obtained the field notes from
+which were to be estimated the cost of making excavations in several
+cuts that must be made ere the coming tracks could be laid.
+
+In the days that passed Tom and Harry saw little of the field
+work. They were kept at the chief's tent. Hence Reade had but
+little to do with 'Gene Black, which may have been fortunate,
+as Tom still retained his first instinctive dislike for the black-eyed
+fellow.
+
+* * * * * * * * *
+
+"Reade and Hazelton, you two young men are going to forge ahead
+rapidly, and you are sure to earn good salaries, if you don't
+make the too common mistake of young engineers first starting
+out," Mr. Thurston told the cubs one forenoon.
+
+"And what is that mistake, sir, if you please?" Tom queried.
+
+"Don't make the mistake of getting too large an idea of the value
+of your services," replied the chief. "Just work hard all the
+time and be wholly unassuming.
+
+"I think we can follow that advice, sir," Tom replied, with a
+smile.
+
+"If you can, you'll get along rapidly. I have already written
+to our officers in New York, thanking them for having sent you
+two young men."
+
+"Here's the map I have just finished, sir," said Harry, rising
+from his drawing table on which were arranged the various draughtsman's
+inks and washes---the latter being thin solutions of water colors
+with which some parts of the maps were colored.
+
+"Very handsomely done, Hazelton. Reade, what are you doing?"
+
+"I'm at work on Black's field notes of the leveling," Tom answered.
+
+"I am very much pleased with Black's work," replied Mr. Thurston.
+"His notes show that we are going to get out of the excavating
+in the cuts at about one third of the trouble and expense that
+I had looked for."
+
+"Black's field notes certainly do look good, sir, for they show
+that you can get the work through on this division in much less
+time than you had supposed."
+
+As he turned around to speak, Tom sat where he could easily see
+the colored field map that Harry had just turned in to the chief.
+
+"Hold on, there, Harry," Tom objected.
+
+"You've lined in a pretty high hill on Section Nineteen. You'll
+have to cut that down a bit."
+
+"The surveyor's field notes call for that hill," Hazelton retorted.
+
+"But, as it happens," objected Tom, "I'm just working out the
+profile drawing of Section Nineteen from Black's notes. See here-----"
+Tom rested a pencil point on a portion of the hill depicted on
+Hazelton's map. "You've drawn that pretty steep. Now, as you'll
+see by Black's notes, the upgrade at that point is only a three
+per cent. grade."
+
+"Humph! It's all of an eight per cent. grade," grunted Hazelton.
+"See, here are the surveyor's field notes."
+
+"Three per cent. grade," insisted Tom, holding forward Black's
+leveling notes.
+
+"There's a difference there, then, that must be reconciled," broke
+in Mr. Thurston, rising, a look of annoyance on his face. "We
+can't have any such disagreement as that between the field map
+and the profile sheet. Let us find out, at once, where the trouble
+lies."
+
+Yet the more the three pondered over the matter the greater became
+the puzzle. The notes of the surveyor, Matt Rice, and of the
+leveler, 'Gene Black, were at utter variance.
+
+"We must get hold of these men as soon as they come in tonight,"
+exclaimed Mr. Thurston, much disturbed. "We must find out just
+which one is at fault."
+
+"Rice is a very reliable man, sir," spoke up Tom.
+
+"Yes; but Blaisdell reports that Black thoroughly understands
+his work, too," grumbled the chief. "We must settle this tonight."
+
+"May I make a suggestion, sir?" asked Tom.
+
+"Certainly. Go ahead."
+
+"There is no use, sir, in my going ahead with this profile drawing,
+if there's a chance that the sights turned in by Black are wrong.
+Until we know, my time at this drawing board may all be wasted.
+Trotter, one of the rodmen, is in camp today. I might take him,
+and a level along, and go over the foresights and backsights myself.
+All of the stakes will be in place. In two hours I ought to
+have a very good set of leveling notes. Then I can bring them
+back and compare them with Black's sights."
+
+"Can you run a level well?" inquired Mr. Thurston.
+
+"Of course I can, sir. It's simple enough work, and I've done
+a good bit of it in the east."
+
+"Go along, then, and see if you can throw any light on this,"
+sighed the disturbed chief.
+
+"Reade really ought to have two rodmen," broke in Harry eagerly.
+"May I go along, sir, to serve as the other rodman?"
+
+"Run along," assented Mr. Thurston. "Remember, boys, I can't
+go any further until this tangle is settled. Come back as speedily
+as you can."
+
+Tom and Harry snatched up their sombreros, hurrying forth. Trotter
+was found readily, and was ordered to saddle three ponies. Tom
+busied himself in picking out the best leveling instrument in
+camp, while Hazelton secured the rods and a chain. Then the party
+set forth in Indian file, Tom riding in advance.
+
+A trot of half an hour brought them to Section Nineteen. Here
+Tom speedily adjusted his instrument, taking up his post over
+the first stake at the bottom of the hill.
+
+Leveling is not difficult work, though it calls for some judgment
+and a good deal of care. For instance, when Tom set his telescope
+exactly level and took a reading of the rod at the second stake,
+which Harry held, he read the height as eight feet and four inches.
+Then he trudged forward, carrying his instrument, while Trotter
+held his rod exactly perpendicular over the first stake. From
+the second stake Tom sighted back through his telescope, reading
+two feet three inches. The difference between these two readings
+was six feet and one inch, showing that, for the distance between
+first and second stakes the rise in the hillside was six feet
+one inch. Thereupon Reade turned and sighted, from stake number
+two to stake number three, noting in his book the reading he secured
+from the rod at number three. Once at number three he turned
+his telescope backward, taking a reading from Trotter's rod at
+number two. Ten stakes were thus covered, and not only were the
+foresights and backsights read and recorded, but the distance
+between each pair of stakes was measured with the chain and the
+distances entered on the record.
+
+At stake number ten Tom halted.
+
+"Harry," he directed, "you take Black's leveling notes and hold
+them while I read my own notes. Stop me every time that you note
+a difference between the two records."
+
+After that Harry steadily stopped his chum at every reading.
+By the time that they had finished the comparisons Hazelton's
+face looked blank from sheer astonishment.
+
+"Why, every single one of Blacks foresights and backsights is
+wrong!" gasped Harry. "And yet Mr. Blaisdell reported that 'Gene
+Black is such a fine engineer."
+
+Tom turned to make sure that Trotter was resting out of hearing
+before he replied:
+
+"Harry, Black isn't such a fool as to bring in an absolutely wrong
+record of sights, and yet do it innocently. If he didn't do it
+unintentionally, then he must have tangled the record purposely."
+
+"But why should he do it purposely?" Harry insisted. "He would
+know that, sooner or later, his blunders or lies would be discovered,
+and that he would be discharged. Now, Black really wants to hold
+his job with this outfit."
+
+"Does he?" asked Tom bluntly.
+
+"Why, what do you mean?"
+
+"I don't know," Reade confessed. "I never heard of any such bungle
+as this before by an engineer. Why, Harry, this hillside averages
+an eight and a third grade, yet Black's field notes show it to
+be only a three per cent. grade. Hang it, the fellow must have
+played the trick purposely!"
+
+"Yet why?" pressed Hazelton.
+
+"I'll admit that I can't understand. Unless, well---unless-----"
+
+"Say it!"
+
+"Unless Black joined this outfit with the express purpose of
+queering all the work of the entire corps as he could easily
+do. Harry, do you think that Black could possibly be serving
+with this outfit as the paid tool of the rival road, the W.C.
+& A.? Can he be the enemy's spy within our lines---sent to prevent
+our finishing the road on time?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THINGS BEGIN TO GO DOWN HILL
+
+
+"I suppose I'm thick," Harry murmured. "How would Black, by turning
+in some wrong backsights and foresights, expect to delay the building
+of the road, even if he wanted to do it?"
+
+"How?" repeated Tom Reade, showing an amount of heat and excitement
+that he rarely displayed. "Why, Harry, this same old Section
+Nineteen is one of the hard spots on the road. A lot of excavating
+has to be done before the tracks can be laid here. It's not a
+mere matter of scooping up dirt and removing it, either. A large
+amount of solid rock has to be blasted out here before the roadbed
+can be laid."
+
+"I know it," Harry nodded.
+
+"Well, then, at the present moment our chief, Mr. Thurston, is
+preparing the estimates for the work that must be done. On his
+estimates will be based the strength of the laboring gangs that
+must come forward to do the work."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then, suppose that Mr. Thurston has been misled into making a
+certain estimate as to the number of thousand cubic yards of stuff
+that must be taken out of the outs that are to be made. After
+he gets his laborers here, and at work, he finds that he has at
+least three times as much rock and dirt to get out-----"
+
+"I see," cried Hazelton. "Before the chief could get men and
+wagons, and make all necessary changes in the work, the time would
+have slipped by so far that the finishing of the road would be
+blocked."
+
+"And the S.B. & L. would lose its charter," finished Tom grimly.
+
+"It's mighty lucky that we came out here today, then," exclaimed
+Hazelton, now fully alive to the danger that menaced their employers.
+"Come, we must hustle back to camp and show Mr. Thurston how
+he has been imposed on. There can't be a doubt that 'Gene Black
+has been deliberately crooked."
+
+"Go slowly," advised Tom. "Don't be in a rush to call any other
+man a crook. Mr. Thurston can hear our report. Then he can look
+into it himself and form his own opinion. That's as far as we
+have any right to go in the matter."
+
+"Thurston is at fault in not having come out here himself," Harry
+continued. "The chief engineer in charge of a job should know
+every foot of the way."
+
+"Thurston, from the nature of his own work, is obliged to leave
+much of the detail to his assistant, Mr. Blaisdell," Tom explained.
+
+"Then why doesn't Blaisdell look out that no such treacherous
+work is done by any member of the engineer corps?" flared Harry.
+
+"'Gene Black is plainly a very competent man," Reade argued.
+"The work has had to be rushed of late, and, on so simple a matter
+as leveling, I don't suppose Blaisdell has thought it at all necessary
+to dig into Black's field notes."
+
+"I hope Black is fired out of this outfit, neck and crop!" finished
+Hazelton.
+
+"That's something with which we have nothing to do," Reade retorted.
+"Harry, we'll confine ourselves to doing our work well and reporting
+our results. Mr. Thurston is intelligent enough to form all his
+own conclusions when he has our report. Come, it's high time
+for us to be putting the ponies to real speed on the trail back."
+
+Not long afterwards the young engineers rode into the engineer
+camp. Harry dismounted, seating himself on the ground, while
+Tom hurried toward the chief's big tent.
+
+It was Blaisdell who sat in the chief's chair when Tom entered.
+
+"Oh, hello, Reade," was the assistant's pleasant greeting.
+
+"Where's the chief?"
+
+"Gone back to the track builders. You know, they're within fourteen
+miles of us now."
+
+"When will Mr. Thurston be back?"
+
+"I don't know," Blaisdell answered. "In the meantime, Reade, you
+know, I'm acting chief here."
+
+"I beg your pardon," Tom murmured hastily.
+
+"The chief told me, just before leaving, that you thought some of
+Black's sights on Section Nineteen are wrong," Blaisdell pursued.
+
+"They're all wrong," Reade rejoined quietly.
+
+"_All_?" echoed Blaisdell, opening his eyes very wide.
+
+"Yes, sir; everyone of them."
+
+"Come, come, Reade!" remonstrated the acting chief. "Don't try
+to amuse yourself with me. All of the sights can't be wrong."
+
+"But they are, sir. Hazelton and I have been over them most carefully
+in the field. Here are _our_ notes, sir. Look them over and
+you'll find that Section Nineteen calls for three or four times
+as much excavating as Black's notes show."
+
+"This is strange!" mused Blaisdell, after comparing the two sets
+of notes. "I can't credit it. Reade, you and Hazelton are very
+young---mere cubs, in fact. Are you sure that you know all you
+owlet to know about leveling?"
+
+"Mr. Blaisdell, I'll answer you by saying, sir, that though Hazelton
+and I are nothing but cubs, we have the success of this railroad
+building game at heart. We're deeply in earnest. We'll work
+ourselves to our very bones in order to see this road get through
+in time. I don't ask you, sir, to take our word about these sights,
+but we both beg you, sir, to go out with a gang of men and go
+over some of the work yourself. Keep on surveying, sir, until
+you're satisfied that Black is wrong and that Hazelton and I are
+right. You know what it would mean, sir, if we're right and you
+don't find it out in time. Then you simply couldn't get the cut
+through Section Nineteen in time and the S.B. & L. would lose
+its charter."
+
+"By Jove, you're right," muttered Blaisdell uneasily, as he slowly
+stood up. "Reade, I'm going to take men and go out, carrying
+your notes and Black's. Let me warn you, however, that if I find
+that Black is right and you're wrong, then it will give you two
+cubs such a black eye that the chief will run you out of camp."
+
+"If we had made any such gigantic blunder as that," returned Tom
+firmly, "then we'd deserve to be run out. We wouldn't have the
+nerve to put in another night in camp."
+
+"Hey, you, don't unsaddle those ponies. Hold yourselves ready
+to go out," called Blaisdell from the doorway of the tent.
+
+"Will you give us our orders on drawing before you go, sir?" asked
+Reade.
+
+"No," smiled Blaisdell. "If you've made a blunder out on Nineteen,
+then you're not to be trusted with drawing. Wait until I return.
+Take it easy until then."
+
+"Very good."
+
+"And---Reade!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Neither you nor Hazelton are to let a word cross your lips regarding
+the disagreement over Section Nineteen."
+
+"You'll never have any trouble, sir, over our talking when we ought
+not to do it," promised Reade.
+
+Two minutes later the assistant engineer rode out with a pair of
+rodmen whom he picked up on the way to Nineteen.
+
+"What happened?" asked Harry, coming into the big tent.
+
+Tom told him all that had taken place, adding the caution that
+nothing was to be said about the matter for the present.
+
+"Whew! I wish Mr. Blaisdell had let me go along," murmured Hazelton.
+"I'd like to have seen his face when he finds out!"
+
+Hearing footsteps approaching outside, Reade signaled for silence.
+Then the flap of the tent was pulled back and Bad Pete glanced in.
+
+"Howdy, pardners?" was the greeting from the bad man, that caused
+Tom Reade almost to fall from his campstool.
+
+"How are you, Peter?" returned Tom. "This is, indeed, a pleasure."
+
+"Where's the boss?" continued Bad Pete.
+
+"If you mean Mr. Thurston, he's away."
+
+"Where's Blaisdell, then?"
+
+"He hit the trail, just a few minutes ago," Tom responded.
+
+"Then I suppose you have no objections if I sit in here a while?"
+
+"Peter," replied Tom solemnly, "you'll be conferring a great honor
+on us."
+
+The bad man's present mood was so amiable that Harry did not deem
+it desertion to go outside. Bad Pete had his cartridge belt restocked
+with sure-enough cartridges, and his revolver swung as jauntily
+in its holster as ever. Pete seemed to have no idea, however, of
+trying to terrify anyone with his hardware.
+
+"You've been away?" suggested Tom, by way of making conversation,
+after an awkward silence had endured for nearly two minutes.
+
+"Yep," admitted the bad one. "Pardner, it seems like home to
+get back. Do you know, Reade, I've taken a big liking to you?"
+
+"Peter," protested Tom, "if you don't look out you'll make me
+the vainest cub on earth."
+
+"I mean it," asserted Pete. "Pardner, I've a notion me and you
+are likely to become big friends."
+
+"I never dared to hope for so much," breathed Tom, keeping back
+a laugh.
+
+"'Cause," continued Bad Pete, "I reckon you're one of the kind
+that never goes back on a real pardner."
+
+"I should hope not," Tom assured him.
+
+"Have a cigar?" urged Pete, doffing his sombrero and taking out
+a big, black weed that he tendered the cub.
+
+"What's the matter with it?" asked Tom curiously.
+
+For just a second Bad Pete's eyes flashed. Then he choked back
+all signs of anger as he drawled:
+
+"The only matter with this cigar, pardner, is that it's a gen-u-wine
+Havana cigar."
+
+"I couldn't tell it from a genuine Baltimore," asserted Tom.
+"But I suppose that is because I never smoked."
+
+"You never smoked? Pardner, you've got a lot to learn," replied
+Bad Pete, as he put the cigar back in his hat and replaced the
+latter on his head. "And, while we're talking about such matters,
+pardner, you might just hand me a twenty for a few days."
+
+"Twenty dollars?" returned Tom. "Peter, until payday gets around
+I won't have twenty cents."
+
+Bad Pete gazed at the cub keenly.
+
+"Fact!" Tom assured him.
+
+"Huh!" grunted Pete, rising. "I've been wasting my time on a pauper!"
+
+Saying which, he stalked out.
+
+Tom discreetly repressed his desire to laugh. Hazelton glided
+into the tent, grinning.
+
+"Tom, be careful not to string Bad Pete so hard, or, one of these
+days, you'll get him so mad that he won't be able to resist drilling
+you through with lead."
+
+"Let's go over to the cook tent and either beg or steal something
+to eat," proposed Reade.
+
+It was two hours later when a rodman rode hurriedly into camp.
+
+"Hey, you cubs," he called, "come and help me get Mr. Blaisdell's
+bed ready for him. He's coming back sick."
+
+"Sick?" demanded Reade, thunderstruck. "Why, he looked healthy
+enough when he went out of camp a little while ago."
+
+"He's sick enough, now," retorted the rodman.
+
+"What ails Mr. Blaisdell?" asked Harry.
+
+"It's mountain fever, I reckon," rejoined the rodman. "Blaisdell
+must have been off color for days, and didn't really know it."
+
+All three worked rapidly getting everything in readiness for the
+coming of the assistant engineer. Then Mr. Blaisdell was brought
+in, on a stretcher rigged between two ponies. The acting chief
+is face was violently flushed, his eyes seemed bright as diamonds.
+
+"Reade," said the acting chief thickly, as they lifted him from
+the litter to his cot, "if I'm not better by morning you'll have
+to get word to the chief."
+
+"Yes, sir," assented Reade, placing a hand on Blaisdell's forehead.
+It felt hot and feverish. "May I ask, sir, if you verified any
+of the sights on Nineteen?"
+
+"I---I took some of 'em," replied the acting chief hesitatingly.
+"Reade, I'm not sure that I remember aright, but I think---I
+think---you and Hazelton were correct about that. I---wish I
+could---remember."
+
+Bill Blaisdell closed his eyes, and his voice trailed off into
+murmurs that none around him could understand. Even Reade, with
+his very slight experience in such matters, realized that the
+acting chief was a very sick man.
+
+"You cubs better clear out of here now," suggested one of the
+rodmen. "I know better how to take care of men with mountain fever."
+
+"I hope you do know more about nursing than I do, Carter," replied
+Tom very quietly. "In the future, however, don't forget that,
+though I may be a cub, I am an engineer, and you are a rodman.
+When you speak to me address me as Mr. Reade. Come, men, all
+out of here but the nurse."
+
+Once in the open Tom turned to Harry with eyes ablaze.
+
+"Harry, could anything be tougher? The chief away, the acting
+chief down with fever and on the verge of delirium---and a crooked
+engineer in our crowd who's doing his best to sell out the S.B.
+& L.---bag, baggage and charter!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE CHIEF TOTTERS FROM COMMAND
+
+
+It was not like Tom Reade to waste time in wondering what to do.
+
+"Harry," he continued, once more turning upon his chum, "I want
+you to get a pony saddled as fast as you can. You know that the
+telegraph wire is being brought along as fast as it can be done.
+This morning I heard Rutter say that it was hardly five miles
+back of us on the trail. Get into saddle, wire the chief at the
+construction camp, and bring back his orders as fast as you can
+ride."
+
+Hazelton replied only with a nod, then broke into a sprint for
+the spot where the saddle animals were tethered. Two minutes
+later Harry, though not a crack horseman, left camp at a gallop.
+
+In Blaisdell's tent matters dragged along. Ice was needed, but
+none was to be had. Cloths were wrung out in spring water and
+applied to the sick man's head. Within half an hour Tom received
+word that the acting chief was "out of his head."
+
+Later on Hazelton galloped back into camp bearing this despatch:
+
+"Reade, Engineer Corps.
+Take charge of camp until Rutter returns. Then turn over charge
+to him. Rush for the nearest physician; engage him to remain
+at camp and look after Blaisdell. I return tonight.
+(Signed) Thurston, Chief Engineer."
+
+"Men," called Tom striding over to the little party of rodmen,
+"tell me where the nearest physician is to be found."
+
+"Doe Jitney, at Bear's Cave," replied one of the men.
+
+"How far is that?"
+
+"Fourteen miles, by the trail."
+
+"Get on to a pony, then, and go after Dr. Gitney. Bring him here
+and tell him we'll want him here for the present. Tell the doctor
+to bring all the medicines he'll need, and both of you ride fast."
+
+"I'm not going on your orders," retorted the man sullenly.
+
+"Yes, you are," Tom informed him promptly. "I'm in charge, for
+the present, and acting under Mr. Thurston's orders. If you don't
+go, you won't eat any more in this camp, or draw any more pay
+here. It's work or jump for you---and discharge if you lose or
+waste any time on the way. Mr. Blaisdell's life is at stake.
+Rustle!"
+
+The man so ordered scowled, but he rose, went over and saddled
+a pony and rode out of camp.
+
+"That part is attended to," sighed Tom. "Hang it, I wish we could
+get hold of some ice. I don't know much, but I do know that ice
+is needed in high fevers. I wonder if anyone here knows where
+ice can be had? By Jove, there's Peter! He knows more about
+this country than anyone else around here."
+
+It was now within an hour of the time when the engineer parties
+might be expected hack into camp. Reade, however, was not of
+the sort to lose an hour needlessly.
+
+Tom had just caught sight of Bad Pete as the latter stepped through
+a little gully an eighth of a mile below the trail and vanished
+into some green brush.
+
+"I'll run after him," Tom decided. "Pete wants a little money,
+and this will be a chance for him to earn it---if he can find
+some man to drive a load of ice to camp."
+
+Being a trained runner, Tom did not consume much time in nearing
+the spot where he had last seen Bad Pete. The lad put two fingers
+up to his mouth, intending to whistle, when he heard a twig snap
+behind him. Tom turned quickly, then, warned by some instinct,
+stepped noiselessly behind high brush. The newcomer was 'Gene
+Black.
+
+"Pete!" called Black softly.
+
+"Oy!" answered a voice some distance away.
+
+"That you, Pete?" called the engineer.
+
+"Yep."
+
+"Then close in here. I have doings for you."
+
+Tom Reade should have stepped out into sight. He was neither
+spy nor eavesdropper. For once, something within urged him to
+keep out of sight and silent.
+
+"Where be you, pardner?" called Pete's voice, nearer at hand now.
+
+"Right here, Pete," called Black.
+
+"What do you want, pardner?" demanded the bad man, coming through
+the brush.
+
+"Lend me a couple of hundred dollars, Pete," laughed 'Gene Black.
+
+"Did you call me here for any such fool talk as that?" scowled Pete.
+
+"No," Black admitted. "Pete, I don't believe you have two hundred
+dollars. But you'd like to have. Now, wouldn't you!"
+
+"Two hundred silver bricks," retorted Bad Pete, his eyes gleaming,
+"is the price of shooting up a whole town. Pardner, just get me an
+extra box of cartridges and lead me to that town! But have you got
+the money?"
+
+"Yes," laughed Black, holding up a roll of greenbacks. "This
+and more, too!"
+
+Bad Pete surveyed the money hungrily.
+
+"Some men who know me," he muttered thickly, "would be afraid
+to show me a whole bankful of money when there was no one else
+looking."
+
+"I'm not afraid of you, Pete," replied Black quietly. "You might
+shoot me, if you felt you could get away with it. Do you notice
+that my left hand is in my pocket! I'm a left-handed shooter,
+you see."
+
+Pete glanced covertly at that bulging left trousers' pocket of
+the engineer.
+
+"You won't have to do anything like that to get the money, Pete.
+Save your cartridges for other people. There, I've let go of
+my gun. Come close and listen to what I have to say---but only
+in your ear."
+
+There followed some moments of whisperings Try as he would, Reade
+could not make out a word of what was being said until at last
+Bad Pete muttered audibly, in a low, hoarse voice:
+
+"You're not doing that on your own account, Black?"
+
+"No, Pete; I'm not."
+
+"Then you must really be working for the road that wants to steal
+the charter away---the W.C. & A.?"
+
+"Perhaps so, Pete. You don't need to know that. All you have
+to know is what I want done. I'm a business man, Pete, and money
+is the soul of business. Here!"
+
+Black peeled some banknotes from his roll.
+
+"Ten twenties, Pete. That makes the two hundred I was talking
+to you about. Understand, man, that isn't your pay. That's simply
+your expense money, for you to spend while you're hanging about.
+Stick to me, do things just as I want them done, and your pay
+will run several times as high as your expense money."
+
+"Do you know how long I've been looking for this sort o' thing,
+pardner?" Pete inquired huskily.
+
+"No; of course not," rejoined 'Gene Black rather impatiently.
+
+"All my life," returned Bad Pete solemnly. "Pardner, I'll sell
+myself to you for the money you've been talking about."
+
+"Come along, then. We're too near the camp. I want to talk with
+you where we're not so likely to be interfered with by people who
+have too much curiosity."
+
+"If that means me," quoth Tom Reade inwardly, "the shoe fits to
+a nicety."
+
+Tom followed the pair for a little way, with a stealth that was
+born in him for the present need. Then the plotters stepped into
+a rocky, open gully, where the cub engineer could not have followed
+without being seen.
+
+"Oh, dear! I never wanted to follow anyone as much in my life!"
+groaned Reade in his disappointment.
+
+There was nothing to do but to go back. Then, too, with a guilty
+start, Tom remembered the great need of ice for poor, fever-tossed,
+big-hearted Bill Blaisdell, who had been so kind to the two cubs
+from the hour of their arrival in the field camp.
+
+Just as he stepped into the camp area Tom espied Jack Rutter,
+who also saw him and came quickly forward.
+
+"I've been looking everywhere for you, Reade," said Rutter, in
+a tone that was close to carrying reproach with it.
+
+"I've been absent on real business, Rutter," Tom answered, with
+a flush, nevertheless. "Mr. Blaisdell must have ice a lot of it."
+
+"Great Scott! Where shall we find it in these mountains in midsummer?"
+Rutter demanded.
+
+"We've got to have it, haven't we?" Tom urged. "It will be the
+first thing that the doctor will call for."
+
+"Then he should bring it with him," returned Rutter.
+
+"Would you want the doctor to be hampered with a ton or so of
+ice!" asked Reade.
+
+"Would we need that much?" Rutter seemed hopelessly ignorant in
+such matters.
+
+"I imagine we'd want a lot of it," Tom answered. "By the way,
+Mr. Rutter-----"
+
+"Well?" Jack inquired.
+
+Tom was on the point of giving a hint of what he had heard in
+the gully during the meeting between Black and Bad Pete. Then,
+on second thought, the cub engineer decided to hold that news
+for the ear of Mr. Thurston alone.
+
+"What were you going to say?" pressed Rutter.
+
+"Probably Hazelton has told you," Tom continued, "that you're
+in charge here until Mr. Thurston arrives."
+
+"Yes; and I'm mighty glad that the chief will be here before daylight
+tomorrow," returned Jack. "I may be a fair sort of engineer, but I'm
+not cut out for a chief engineer."
+
+Later, one of the rodmen was sent to guide Harry to the nearest
+small town, twenty-eight miles away, for ice. If they succeeded
+in obtaining it they might be back by dark of the following day.
+
+Supper in camp was a gloomy meal. No one felt light-hearted.
+
+"Mr. Rutter," asked Tom, approaching the temporary chief, soon
+after the evening meal, "what do you want Hazelton and myself
+to do this evening?"
+
+"Don't ask me," returned Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+"What have you been doing? Drawing?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Why don't you go on with it?"
+
+"We're at a point where we need orders, for we've had to lay down
+one part of the work while waiting for further instructions."
+
+"I can't help you any, then," replied Rutter. "Sorry, but before
+I could give any orders I'd need a few myself."
+
+At eleven o'clock that night Dr. Gitney arrived, with saddle-bags
+full of medicines and other necessaries. He saw Blaisdell, and
+pronounced the assistant engineer a very sick man.
+
+Shortly after midnight Mr. Thurston rode into camp. He tottered
+from saddle and reeled until Tom, on the lookout for him, ran
+forward and supported the chief engineer to his tent.
+
+Then Dr. Gitney was sent for and came.
+
+"Your chief has mountain fever, too," said the medical attendant
+to Tom, after stepping outside the tent.
+
+"How long will it take them to get well?" asked Wade anxiously.
+
+"Weeks! Hard to say," replied the physician vaguely.
+
+"Weeks!" groaned Tom Reade. "And the camp now in charge of Jack
+Rutter, who's a fine workman but no leader! Doc Gitney doesn't
+know it, but he has sentenced the S.B. & L. railroad to death!"
+
+It was a trying situation. The cub engineer felt it keenly, for
+he had set his heart on seeing the S.B. & L. win out over its rival.
+
+Then, too, all in a flash, the memory of 'Gene Black's treachery
+to his employers came back to the mind of Tom Reade.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+FROM CUB TO ACTING CHIEF
+
+
+Tom didn't sleep that night. He sat by, silently, in the big
+tent, nursing the patient as Dr. Gitney directed.
+
+In the morning, at five, Matt Rice came. Tom gladly surrendered
+the post to him and took a scant hour of deep slumber on the bare
+ground outside.
+
+"Wake up, Reade," ordered Rutter, at last shaking the cub and
+hauling him to his feet. "This is no place to sleep. Go to your
+tent and stretch out full length on your cot."
+
+"On my cot?" demanded Tom, rubbing his eyes fiercely. "You can't
+spare me from the day's work?"
+
+"I don't believe there will be any day's work," Rutter answered.
+
+"You're in charge, man! You must put us to work," Tom insisted.
+
+"I don't know just what ought to be done," complained Rutter.
+"I shall have to wait for orders."
+
+"Orders?" repeated Tom, in almost breathless scorn. "From whom
+can you get orders?"
+
+"Howe is Thurston's assistant at the lower camp," Rutter rejoined.
+"He'll have to come over here and take real charge. I'm going
+to send a messenger to the telegraph station and wire Mr. Howe
+to come here at once."
+
+"See here, Rutter," blazed Tom insistently, "Mr Howe is in charge of
+the construction forces. He's laying the bed and the tracks. He
+can't be spared from the construction work for even a day, or the
+road will fail to get through, no matter what we do here. Man,
+you've simply got to be up and doing! Make some mistakes, if you
+have to, but don't lie down and kill the S.B. & L. with inaction."
+
+"Cub," laughed Rutter good-humoredly, "you speak as if this were
+a big personal matter with you."
+
+"Oh, isn't it, thought" retorted Tom Reade with spirit. "My whole
+heart is centered on seeing the S.B. & L. win out within the time
+granted by its charter. Rutter, if you don't take hold with a
+rush and make a live, galloping start with your new responsibilities,
+I'm afraid I'll go wild and assault you violently!"
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" Jack laughed loudly.
+
+"Here, stop that cackling," ordered Reade in the same low voice
+that he had been using. "Let's get away from the chief's tent.
+We'll disturb him with our noise."
+
+Dr. Gitney, entering the big tent five minutes later, found Mr.
+Thurston very much awake, for he had heard the low-voiced conversation
+outside the tent. Mr. Thurston was not quite as ill as was Blaisdell,
+and had not as yet reached the stage of delirium.
+
+"Doctor, I want you to summon the engineer corps here," begged
+the patient.
+
+"When you're better," replied the doctor, with a hand on the sick
+man's pulse.
+
+"Doc, you'd better let me have my way," insisted Mr. Thurston
+in a weak voice. "If you don't, you'll make me five times more
+ill than I am at present."
+
+Watching the fever glow in the man's face deepen, and feeling
+the pulse go up several beats per minute, Dr. Gitney replied:
+
+"There, there, Thurston. Be good, and I'll let you have three
+minutes with your engineers."
+
+"That's all I ask," murmured the sick man eagerly.
+
+Dr. Gitney went outside and rounded them up. All were present
+except 'Gene Black, who, according to Matt Rice, had taken a little
+walk outside of camp.
+
+"I hope you'll soon be better, sir," began Rutter, as the engineers
+gathered at the cot of their stricken chief.
+
+"Don't say anything unnecessary, and don't waste my time," begged
+Mr. Thurston. "Rutter, do you feel equal to running this field
+corps until either Blaisdell or I can take charge again?"
+
+"No, I don't chief," replied Jack. "I've sent a wire to Howe, urging
+him to come here and take charge."
+
+"Howe can't come," replied the chief. "If he does, the construction
+work will go to pieces. This corps will have to be led by someone
+now present."
+
+Morris and Rice gazed eagerly at their chief. Butter showed his
+relief at being allowed to hack out from full control.
+
+As for Timothy Thurston, he let his gaze wander from face to face.
+
+"Reade!" he almost whispered.
+
+"Yes, sir!" answered Tom, stepping gently forward. "What can
+I do for you, sir?"
+
+"Reade," came in another whisper, "can you---have you the courage
+to take the post of acting chief?"
+
+Several gasps of astonishment broke on the air, but the greatest
+gasp of all came from Reade himself.
+
+"I think you need a little sleep now, sir," urged Tom.
+
+"I'm not out of my head," smiled Timothy Thurston wanly. "Doc
+Gitney will tell you that. Come---for I'm growing very tired.
+Can you swing this outfit and push the S.B. & L. through within
+charter time?"
+
+"I---I---hardly know what to say," stammered Tom, who felt dizzy
+from the sudden rush of blood to his head.
+
+"Have you the courage to try?"
+
+"Yes, sir---_I have_!" came, without further hesitation from Tom
+Reade. "I believe I'll succeed, at that, for I'll stake health,
+and even life, on winning out!"
+
+"That's what I like to hear," breathed Mr. Thurston, an added flush
+coming to his own face.
+
+"Gentlemen, it's time to leave," warned Dr. Gitney, watching his
+patient.
+
+"One moment more, Doc," insisted the chief engineer feebly.
+"Gentlemen, you've heard what has just been said. Will everyone of
+you pledge himself on his honor to drop all feeling that might
+interfere? Will you all stand loyally by Reade, take his orders
+and help boost him and all the rest of us through to victory in this
+big game?"
+
+"I will!" spoke Jack Rutter earnestly and with a deep sigh of relief.
+
+The others added their promises.
+
+"Reade, you will take full charge here," continued Timothy Thurston.
+"Notify Mr. Howe, too, at once. You and he will not need to
+conflict with each other in any way. Also notify the president
+of the road, at the New York offices. Wire him at once. Now---thank
+you all, gentlemen. I believe I shall have to stop and go to sleep."
+
+"Get out, all of you," came firmly from bearded, middle-aged Dr.
+Gitney. "You fellows now have your acting chief to look to, and
+you don't need to bother a sick man any more."
+
+When Tom Reade stepped outside, on the heels of the others, he
+certainly didn't feel as though treading on air. Instead, he
+wondered if he were going to reel and totter, so dizzy did he
+feel over the sudden realization of the responsibilities he had
+taken upon himself.
+
+"Give us our orders, chief," begged Matt Rice, with a grin, when Tom
+joined the others over by the mess tent.
+
+"Wait a few moments," urged Reade. "I don't really know whether
+I am chief or a joke."
+
+"Great Scott! After lecturing me the way you did, you are not going
+to get cold feet, are you?" gasped Jack Rutter.
+
+"You'll know what I mean before long," Tom murmured. "I signaled
+to Dr. Gitney to follow me as soon as he could."
+
+"How does it seem to know that you have only to beckon and that men
+must follow?" laughed Joe Grant. It is doubtful whether Tom, gazing
+at the chief's big tent, even heard.
+
+Presently Dr. Gitney stepped outside and came toward them.
+
+"Doctor," began Tom, "will you give me your word of honor that
+Mr. Thurston is in his right mind?"
+
+"He certainly impresses me as being so," the physician replied.
+
+"You fully believe that he knew just what he was doing?" Tom insisted.
+
+"I do, Reade. But why should you care? You have the reins in your
+own hands now."
+
+"I wish to keep the reins there," Tom returned quickly. "Still
+I don't want to hold the power for an instant if there is reason
+to believe that Mr. Thurston didn't know what he was doing."
+
+"If that is all you required of me, Reade, rest easy and go ahead
+with the big trust that has been placed in your hands," replied
+Dr. Gitney.
+
+"Then help me to get a few things out of the chief's tent that we
+shall need," replied Tom.
+
+"Tell me what the things are," rejoined the physician, "and I'll pass
+them out. I don't want one of you in there, or Thurston will soon be
+as delirious as Blaisdell is, poor fellow."
+
+By stealth, drawing tables and instruments, several boxes of maps,
+books and papers and other necessary articles were taken from
+Mr. Thurston tent without awaking the sick man.
+
+These were removed to a tent that was not occupied at the moment.
+
+"Supper's ready, folks," announced Bob, the cook's helper, stepping
+softly through camp.
+
+Tom joined the other engineers, taking a few hasty mouthfuls.
+Hardly had the party gathered in the mess tent when 'Gene Black,
+bright and cheery, stepped in swiftly, nodding here and there.
+
+"Well, Rutter, I take it you are running the camp from now on?"
+asked Black.
+
+"Guess just once more," replied Jack.
+
+"Who is, then?"
+
+"Mr. Reade."
+
+Black gulped, then grinned.
+
+"The cub? That's good!"
+
+Black leaned back on his stool, laughing loudly.
+
+"But who _is_ going to boss the camp?" insisted Black, after he had
+had his laugh.
+
+"Mr. Reade!" flung back the other engineers in one voice.
+
+"What have you to say to this, cub?" asked 'Gene Black, turning
+to Tom.
+
+"Mr. Thurston placed me in charge because no one else would assume
+the responsibility," smiled Tom good-humoredly.
+
+"Then you're going to stay boss for the present?"
+
+"Unless Mr. Thurston changes his mind."
+
+"Oh, what a fool I was to be away this afternoon!" groaned Black
+to himself. "I could have gotten this chance away from a cub like
+Reade. Oh, but my real task would have been easy if I had been here
+on deck, and had got Thurston to turn matters over to me. Reade
+will be easy! He's only a cub---a booby. Even if he proved
+shrewd---well, I have at my disposal several ways of getting rid
+of him!"
+
+Then, aloud, Black went on:
+
+"Reade, I'm a candidate for the post of acting assistant chief
+engineer."
+
+"That goes to Rutter, if he'll take it," replied Tom, with a smile.
+
+"Oh, I'll take it," nodded Jack Rutter. "I can follow orders, when
+I have someone else to give them."
+
+Tom was intentionally pleasant with 'Gene Black. He intended
+to remain pleasant---until he was quite ready to act.
+
+Immediately after supper Tom ordered one of the chainmen to saddle
+a pony and be ready to take a message back to the telegraph service
+that was rapidly overtaking them.
+
+"I want you to be sure to get a receipt for the message from the
+operator," Tom explained. "Direct the operator to get the message
+through to New York at once."
+
+"What's the use?" demanded the chainman. "It's night in New York,
+the same as it is here. If the message goes through at any time
+tonight it will do."
+
+"I didn't ask you that," Tom replied quietly. "I told you to
+instruct the operator, from me, to send the message at once.
+Then, if there is any delay on the way, the message will still
+be in New York in the morning when the company's offices open."
+
+Then Tom Reade went to the new headquarters' tent, seated himself
+at the desk and picked up a pen.
+
+"Whew!" he muttered suddenly. "This message is going to be harder
+to write than I thought! When the president of the S.B. & L. gets
+my telegram, informing him that a cub is in command here, he'll blow
+up! If he recovers he'll wire me that he's sending a grown man for
+the job!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+BLACK TURNS OTHER COLORS
+
+
+Through the night Tom Reade managed to get some sound sleep.
+
+Had he been less exhausted physically the excitement caused by
+his sudden and dizzying promotion might have interfered with his
+rest. As it was, he slept like a log, though, by his own orders,
+he was called twice in the night to be informed as to the condition
+of the two sick men.
+
+In the morning a male nurse for whom Dr. Gitney had arranged arrived
+in camp. Thereafter the physician had a little opportunity for rest.
+
+Mr. Thurston reached the delirium stage in his illness that forenoon.
+
+"Reade, I don't feel like going out this morning," announced 'Gene
+Black, approaching the young head of the camp after early breakfast.
+
+"What's the matter?" Tom asked pleasantly.
+
+"I have rather a bad headache," complained Black.
+
+"That's a woman's complaint," smiled Tom.
+
+"Just the same, I'm not fit for duty," retorted Black rather testily.
+"I hope I'm not going to come down with the fever, but I can't be
+sure."
+
+"You'd better stay in camp, then," nodded Reade. "Don't go out into
+the field again until you feel like work."
+
+"Humph! He takes it easily enough," grunted Black to himself
+as the young chief strode away to confer with Butter. "I wonder
+if the cub suspects the game I'm playing here? Oh, pshaw! Of
+course he doesn't suspect. Why should he? The truth is that
+Cub Reade doesn't realize how much every man is needed in the
+field. Reade doesn't understand the big need for hustle here.
+Well, that all helps to make my task the easier."
+
+Within five minutes Rutter and the other engineers had their full
+instructions. As they started away Tom called after them:
+
+"Gentlemen, if there is any possible way of putting fifty per cent.
+more work into each day, now, I know I can rely upon you all to do
+it. The S.B. & L. must run its first train over the completed road
+within charter time."
+
+Now, Tom had opportunity to wonder what had happened to Harry
+Hazelton, who should have been back in camp the preceding evening.
+"He must have had to go farther for ice than we imagined,"
+was the only conclusion Reade could form. "At any rate, Harry
+won't come back until he has it. He won't bring back merely an
+excuse when his commission was for a ton of ice."
+
+Tom wandered into the new headquarters' tent, heaved a big sigh
+as the weight of his new responsibilities struck him with full
+force, and began a systematic examination of all the piles of
+papers and maps now under his charge.
+
+By nine o'clock Harry Hazelton and his guide returned, followed
+by a four-mule transport wagon.
+
+Tom, hearing the approach, came out and beckoned. Harry rode
+up, dismounting.
+
+"Well, I got the ice, you see," announced Hazelton.
+
+"Did you have to go very far for it?"
+
+"No; but you and I forgot to allow for the time that mules would
+need for rest on such a steep, uphill climb. Where is the ice to go?"
+
+"Send the man over to Jake Wren. Jake knows more about such things
+than you or I will know within the next ten years."
+
+Harry carried the order to the driver, then hurried back.
+
+"How are our sick men?" he asked.
+
+"Both alive, but delirious. Doc Gitney has a man nurse to help
+him now."
+
+"Did Mr. Rutter leave any orders for me?" pressed Harry.
+
+"No; Rutter is in charge of the actual field work only."
+
+"Who gives the main orders?"
+
+"I do---unless New York changes the plan."
+
+Tom hastily narrated what had taken place in Mr. Thurston's tent
+the day before. Harry listened, his eyes growing larger as he
+heard.
+
+"Tom! I'm mighty glad!" he cried delightedly. "You're going
+to do the trick, too! You're going to put the S.B. & L. through
+within the time allowed by the charter!"
+
+"I'm going to do it or wear myself out," replied Reade, with a
+glint of determination in his eyes. "But, Harry, the road isn't
+going to go through on mere wind. We've got to work---not talk!
+Come into the new headquarters' tent. Throw the front of your
+shirt open, take a few deep breaths, tie down the safety valve
+and get ready to make the steam fly. I'm going over the maps
+and documents, the field notes, the reports and what not. I want
+you to help me untangle them and set all matters straight."
+
+For two hours the cub engineers worked as they had never toiled
+before. Then a horseman drew up before their tent.
+
+"Telegram for Reade, acting chief engineer," called the man from
+saddle. "The czar over at the cook house told me I'd find my
+man here."
+
+"I'm Reade," admitted Tom, stepping outside and receiving the
+envelope. "Do you belong with the telegraph construction crowd?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the young horseman.
+
+"How long before you expect to have the line up with the camp?"
+
+"By tomorrow night, unless you move the camp forward again."
+
+"That's good news," nodded Reade. "Wait until I see whether there
+is to be an answer to this message."
+
+Tom stepped inside, breaking the flap of the envelope. From head
+to foot he trembled as his eyes took in the following message:
+
+"Reade, Acting Chief Engineer.
+
+"Relying upon Thurston's judgment, and from your satisfactory
+wire, conclude that Thurston chose right man for post. Assume
+all responsibilities. Advise New York offices daily as to condition
+of work, also condition Thurston and Blaisdell. Spare no expense
+in their care. Shall join you within five days."
+
+(Signed) "Newnham, President S.B. & L. R.R."
+
+Having read the telegram, Tom turned to pick up a sheet of paper.
+After jotting down the address of President Newnham, he added:
+
+"Shall hustle job through rapidly if there is any way of doing
+it. Shall engage extra engineers in this state. Hope to be able
+to show you, on arrival, things moving at speed."
+
+(Signed) Reade, "Acting Chief Engineer."
+
+Then Tom shoved both despatches under his chum's eyes. Naturally
+Hazelton read the one from New York first.
+
+"Whew! The president seems to trust you," murmured Harry.
+
+"No; he doesn't," Tom retorted. "He doesn't know anything about
+me. His wire shows that he knows and trusts Mr. Thurston, the
+man who picked me out for this job."
+
+Then Tom wrote a second despatch, addressed to the State University.
+It ran as follows:
+
+"Have heard that your university has party from engineering school
+in field this summer. Can you place me in immediate wire communication
+with professor in charge of party? Have practical work to offer
+students."
+
+This also Tom showed briefly to his chum. Then, picking up the
+two telegrams, Tom stepped outside, turning them over to the rider.
+"Ask your operator to rush both of these, the one to New York
+going first."
+
+As the pony's hoofs clicked against the gravel, Reade stepped
+inside the tent.
+
+"What are you going to do with the State University students?"
+asked Harry curiously.
+
+"Put 'em at work on the smaller jobs here," Tom answered. "At
+least, as many of them as the professor will vouch for."
+
+Three hours later Tom received an answer to his local despatch.
+It was from Professor Coles, sixty miles away, in camp with a
+party of thirty engineering students. The professor asked for
+further particulars. Tom wired back:
+
+"Can use your entire lot of students in practical railroad work,
+if they want experience and can do work. Will you bring them
+here with all speed and let us try them out? For yourself, we
+offer suitable pay for a man of your attainments. Students engaged
+will be paid all they are worth."
+
+"Gracious, but you're going in at wholesale! What will President
+Newnham say to you for engaging men at such a wholesale rate!"
+
+"By the time he reaches here," replied Tom in a tone that meant
+business, "either he will see results that will force him to
+approve---or else he'll give me my walking papers."
+
+"Now, what shall we do?" inquired Hazelton.
+
+"Nothing. It's nearly time for the field force to be back in camp."
+
+"We'd better work every minute of the time," urged Harry.
+
+"We're going to take things more easily after this," Tom yawned.
+
+"Is that what you mean by hustling?"
+
+"In a way, yes," Tom nodded. "See here, Harry, in the field we
+tried to do the work of a man and a half each, didn't we? And
+here at the drawing tables, too."
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Now there is need of hustling, and, if we work too hard, we simply
+won't have time to plan for others, or even to know what they're
+doing. There are a lot of students coming, Harry. Most of them
+will be good men, for they're young, full of enthusiasm, and just
+crazy to show what they can do. Some of them will doubtless be
+good draughtsmen. You'll take these men and see to it that the
+drawing is pushed forward. But you won't work too hard yourself.
+You'll see to it that the force under you is working, and in
+that way you'll be three times as useful as if you merely ground
+and dug hard by yourself. I shall go light on real work, just
+in order that I may have my eyes and brains where they will do
+the most good every minute of the time."
+
+Someone was approaching. Tom threw open the flap of the tent,
+thus discovering that the man was Black.
+
+"Howdy, Reade," was the greeting of the idle engineer. "I'm glad
+to say that my headache is better. I'm not going to have the
+fever, after all. Tomorrow I'll be out on the leveling job."
+
+Tom shook his head.
+
+"I want you to rest up tomorrow, Black."
+
+"I won't do it," retorted the other flatly. "Tomorrow I go out
+and continue running my levels."
+
+"Then I may as well tell you," Tom continued, "what I would have
+preferred to break to you more easily later on."
+
+"What do you mean?" questioned the other sharply, an uneasy look
+creeping into his face.
+
+"You're not going to do any more work for us, Black," replied the
+young chief coolly.
+
+"Not do any more work, What do you mean, Reade? Am I discharged
+from this corps?"
+
+"Not yet, Black, for I haven't the money at hand to pay you to
+date. So you may stay here until the paymaster comes. Then, when
+you have your full amount of pay, you can leave us."
+
+"What does this mean?" demanded 'Gene Black angrily, as he stepped
+closer, his eyes blazing.
+
+Some young men would have shrunk back before Black's menacing
+manner. Tom had never yet met the man who could make him really
+afraid.
+
+"I've already told you the whole story, Black."
+
+"Why am I discharged?"
+
+"I am not obliged to give you my reasons."
+
+"You'll find you'll have to do so!" stormed 'Gene Black.
+
+"Well, then," Tom answered, "you get through here because you kicked
+one of the tripod legs of your leveling instrument the other day, and
+left a mark on the wood."
+
+"Don't you try to be funny with me, you young hound!" hissed Black,
+stepping so close that Tom gently pushed him back. "You young
+idiot! Do you think you can fire me---and get away with it?"
+
+"We won't talk about it any more," Tom answered. "Your time will
+be all your own until the paymaster arrives. After you've received
+your money you will leave camp."
+
+"Are any of the others going?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then you're discharging me for personal reasons!" snarled 'Gene
+Black. "However, you can't do it! I'll wire the president of
+the road, at New York."
+
+"He won't receive your wire," Tom assured the irate one. "President
+Newnham is on his way here. Probably he'll arrive here before
+the paymaster does. You may take your case to President Newnham
+in person if you wish."
+
+"That's what I'll do, then!" breathed 'Gene Black fiercely.
+"And I'll take your place in charge here, cub! If I don't, _you_
+shall never finish the S.B. & L!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BAD PETE MIXES IN SOME
+
+
+Forty-Eight hours later Professor Coles arrived in camp with thirty
+healthy, joyous young students of engineering.
+
+It didn't take Tom half an hour to discover that he had some excellent
+material here. As for the professor himself, that gentleman was
+a civil engineer of the widest experience.
+
+"I shall need you to advise me, professor," Tom explained. "While
+I had the nerve to take command here, I'm only a boy, after all,
+and you'll be surprised when you find out how much there is that
+I don't know."
+
+"It's very evident, Mr. Reade," smiled the professor, "that you
+know the art of management, and that's the important part in any
+line of great work."
+
+The student party had brought their own tents and field equipment
+with them. Their arrival had been a total surprise in camp, as
+none of the other engineers, save Harry, had known what was in
+the wind.
+
+"If these boys don't make mistakes by wholesale," declared Jack
+Butter, "we'll just boost the work along after this. I wonder
+why Mr. Thurston never hit upon the idea of adding such a force?"
+
+"It's very likely he has been thinking of it all along," Tom rejoined.
+"The main point, however, is that we seem to have a bully field
+force."
+
+Four of the students had been selected to serve as map-making
+force under Harry Hazelton. The rest were going out into the
+field, some of them as engineers in embryo, the rest as chainmen
+and rodmen.
+
+Though the field outfit now presented a lively appearance, all
+was kept as quiet as possible in and near the camp, for neither
+Mr. Thurston nor Mr. Blaisdell knew what was going on about them.
+Both were still delirious, and very ill.
+
+"Now I see why you could afford to 'fire' me and let the work
+slack up for a while," sneered Black, meeting Reade after dark.
+
+"Do you?" asked Tom.
+
+"These boys will spoil the whole business. You don't seem to
+have any idea of the numbers of fool mistakes that boys can make."
+
+"They're good fellows, anyway, and honest," Tom rejoined.
+
+"Give some of 'em leveling work out on Section Nineteen," suggested
+'Gene, apparently seized with a sudden thought. "Then compare
+their field notes with mine, and see how far out they are."
+
+"I happen to know all about your leveling notes on Nineteen,"
+Reade retorted rather significantly.
+
+"What do you mean?" flared Black.
+
+"Just before Mr. Thurston was taken ill, as it happened, Hazelton
+and I took a leveling instrument out on Nineteen one day and ran
+your sights over after you."
+
+"So that's why you 'fired'-----" began Black, his thoughts moving
+swiftly. Then, realizing that he was about to say too much, he
+went on: "What did you find wrong with my sights on Nineteen?"
+
+"I didn't say that anything was wrong with your work," Reade rejoined.
+"What I was about to say was that, if I put any of the students
+at leveling on Nineteen, by way of test, I shall have my own notes
+with which to compare theirs."
+
+"Humph!" muttered the fellow. Then shaking with anger, he walked
+away from the young chief.
+
+"Now, Black knows that much against himself," smiled Reade inwardly.
+"He doesn't yet know, however, that I heard him talking with
+Bad Pete."
+
+Though he was pretending to take things easily, Tom's head was
+all but whirling with the many problems that presented themselves
+to him. To get away from it all for a while Tom strolled a short
+distance out of camp, seating himself on the ground under a big
+tree not far from the trail.
+
+Five minutes later the young chief heard halting footsteps that
+struck his ear as being rather stealthy. Someone, from camp,
+was heading that way. Stealth in the other's movements made Reade
+draw himself back into the shadow.
+
+'Gene Black halted not far from the tree. Turning back toward
+the camp, the fellow shook his fist violently in that direction.
+
+"He's certainly thinking of me," grimaced Reade.
+
+"You young cub, you may laugh for a day or two more!" muttered
+Black, with another shake of his fist.
+
+"If that's meant for me, I'm much obliged, I'm sure," thought
+Reade. "Laughing is always a great pleasure for me."
+
+"It's your turn now," continued Black, in the same low, passionate
+tone, "but I'll soon have you blocked---or else under the sod!"
+
+"Oho!" reflected the young acting chief engineer, not without
+a slight shudder. "Is assassination in the plans of the people
+behind 'Gene Black's treachery? Or is putting me under the sod
+merely an addition that Black has made for his own pleasure?"
+
+The plotter, still unaware of the eavesdropper, had now turned
+and was walking down the trail. He was now so far from camp that
+he did not need to be soft-footed.
+
+Out of the shadow, after a brief pause, stole Tom Reade.
+
+"If Black is going to meet anyone tonight I'd better be near to
+the place of meeting. I might hear something that would teach
+me just what to do to checkmate the plotters against us."
+
+For fully half a mile the chase continued. Two or three times Reade
+stepped against some slight obstacle in the darkness, making a
+sound which, he feared, would travel to the ears of Black. But
+the latter kept on his way.
+
+Finally 'Gene Black halted where three trees grew in the form
+of a triangle and threw a dense shadow. In the same instant the
+young chief engineer dropped out of sight behind a boulder close
+to the path.
+
+Black's low, thrilling whistle sounded. A night bird's call answered.
+Soon afterwards, another form appeared, and Tom, peering anxiously,
+was sure that he recognized the man whom he expected to see---Bad
+Pete.
+
+What Tom heard came disjointedly---a few words here and there,
+but enough to set him thinking "at the rate of a mile a minute,"
+as he told himself.
+
+Up the trail came the pair, after some minutes. Tom crouched
+flat behind his boulder.
+
+"Great! I hope they'll halt within a few feet and go on talking
+about the things that I want to hear---_must_ hear!" quivered Reade.
+
+It was provoking! Black and Bad Pete passed so close, yet the
+only sound from either of them, while within earshot, was a chuckle
+from Pete.
+
+"That's right! Laugh," gritted disappointed Tom. "Laughing is in
+your line! You're planning, somehow, to put the big laugh over the
+whole line of the S.B. & L. railroad. If I could only hear a little
+more I might be able to turn the laugh on you!"
+
+The pair went on out of sight. Tom waited where he was for more
+than half an hour.
+
+"Now, the coast is surely clear," thought Reade at last. He rose
+and started campward.
+
+"The soft-foot, the rubber shoe won't work now," Tom decided.
+"If I were to go along as if trying not to run into anyone, and
+that pair got first sight of me, it would make them suspicious.
+I haven't been eavesdropping---oh, no! I'm merely out taking
+a night stroll to ease my nerves."
+
+Therefore the cub chief puckered his lips, emitting a cheery whistling
+as he trudged along up the trail.
+
+As it happened the pair whom Tom sought had not yet parted. From
+behind a boulder a man stepped out in his path. From the other
+side of the boulder another man moved in behind him.
+
+"Out for the air, Reade?" asked the sneering voice of 'Gene Black.
+
+"Hello, Black---is that you?"
+
+"Now, Black," broke in the voice of Bad Pete, "you wanted this
+cub, and he's all yours! What are you going to do with him?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+BLACK'S PLOT OPENS WITH A BANG
+
+
+"Some mistake here, gentlemen," interjected Tom Reade coolly.
+"Unless I'm very badly informed I don't belong to either of you.
+If anyone owns me, then I belong to the S.B. & L."
+
+"I told you I'd make you settle with me for throwing me out of
+the camp," remarked Black disagreeably.
+
+"You're not out yet---more's the pity," Tom retorted. "You will
+be, however, as soon as the paymaster arrives."
+
+"You're wrong," jeered 'Gene. "You're out---from this minute!"
+
+"What do you mean?" Tom inquired, looking Black steadily in the eye.
+
+Yet the young chief engineer had a creepy realization of just
+what the pair _did_ mean. Black must have confederates somewhere
+in the mountains near. It was evidently the rascal's intention
+to seize Tom and carry him away where he would be held a prisoner
+until he had lost all hope of regaining his position at the head
+of the railroad's field force.
+
+"You say that I'll be thrown out of camp very soon," sneered Black.
+"The fact is, you are not going back to camp."
+
+"What's going to stop me?" Reade inquired, with no sign of fear.
+
+"You're not going back to camp!" Black insisted.
+
+"Someone has been giving you the wrong tip," smiled Tom.
+
+He started forward, brushing past Black. It was mainly a pretense,
+for Reade had no notion but that he would be stopped.
+
+With a savage cry Black seized him by the shoulders.
+
+Tom made a quick turn, shaking the fellow off. While he was thus
+occupied Bad Pete slipped about, and now confronted Reade. The
+muzzle of a revolver was pressed against the young engineer's belt.
+
+"Hoist your hands!" ordered Pete warningly.
+
+Tom obeyed, though he hoisted his hands only as far as his mouth.
+Forming a megaphone, he gave vent to a loud yell of:
+
+"Roo-rup! roo-rup! roo-rup!"
+
+It was one of the old High School yells of the good old Gridley
+days---one of the yells sometimes used as a signal of distress
+by famous old Dick & Co., of which Tom Reade had been a shining
+member.
+
+On the still air of the mountain night that yell traveled far
+and clearly. It was a call of penetrating power, traveling farther
+than its sound would suggest.
+
+"You do that again, you young coyote, and I'll begin to pump!"
+growled Bad Pete savagely.
+
+"I won't need to do it again," Tom returned. "Wait a few minutes,
+and you'll see."
+
+"Shall I drop him, Black?" inquired Pete.
+
+'Gene Black was about to answer in the affirmative, when a sound
+up the trail caught his attention.
+
+"There's someone coming," snarled Black, using his keen powers
+of hearing.
+
+"Wait and I'll introduce you," mocked Tom Reade.
+
+"We won't wait. Neither will you," retorted Black. "You'll come
+with us. About face and walk fast!"
+
+"I'm not going your way tonight," replied Reade calmly.
+
+"If he doesn't obey every order like a flash, Pete, then you pull
+the trigger and wind this cub up."
+
+"All right," nodded Pete. "Cub, you heard what Black said?"
+
+"Yes," replied Tom, looking at Pete with smiling eyes.
+
+"Then come along," ordered Black, seizing Tom by one arm.
+
+"I won't!" Tom declared flatly.
+
+"You know what refusal means. Pete is steady on the trigger."
+
+"Is he?" asked Reade coolly.
+
+Watching like a cat through his sleepy-looking eyes, Reade suddenly
+shot his right hand across his abdomen in such fashion as to knock
+away the muzzle of the revolver. Bad Pete felt himself seized
+in a football tackle that had been the terror of more than one
+opposing High School football player.
+
+Crash! Pete struck the ground, Reade on top of him.
+
+'Gene Black darted to the aid of his companion, but shrank back
+as he caught the glint of the revolver that Tom had twisted out
+of the hand of the bad man.
+
+"Duck, Black!" warned Tom, in a quiet tone that nevertheless had
+a deadly note in it.
+
+"Where are you?" called the voice of Harry Hazelton, not two hundred
+yards up the trail now.
+
+"Here!" called Tom.
+
+"Wow-ow-ow! Whoop!" yelled a chorus of college boys.
+
+It all took place in a very few seconds. Black, hesitating whether
+or not to close with Reade, decided on flight. He turned and
+fled.
+
+Whizz-zz-zz! The sound was made by the captured revolver as Tom,
+leaping to his feet, threw it as far from him as he could. It
+sailed through space, next disappearing over the edge of a steep
+precipice.
+
+"What's your hurry, Peter?" drawled Reade, as, jerking Bad Pete
+to his feet, he planted a kick that sent the bad man down the
+trail a dozen feet.
+
+Tom started after Pete, intent on another kick. Bad Pete sped
+down the trail blindly. Like most of his gun-play kind, he had
+little courage when deprived of his implement of murder.
+
+"What's up, Tom?" demanded Harry Hazelton, leaping to the spot.
+
+"What's the row, chief?" asked one of the university boys eagerly.
+"Anyone you want us to catch? Whoop! Lead the way to the running
+track while we show you our best time!"
+
+"There's nothing to be done, I think," laughed Tom. "Do you all
+know Black by sight?"
+
+"Yes," came the answer from a score of throats.
+
+"Well," Tom continued, "if any of you ever catch sight of him
+in the camp again you are hereby authorized to run him out by
+the use of any kind of tactics that won't result fatally."
+
+On the way up the trail Tom told the rescue party something about
+the late affair.
+
+However, Reade referred to it only as a personal quarrel, refraining
+from making any mention of the treachery of Black and of the plots
+of which that treacherous engineer was a part.
+
+"If you've many friends like that one, chief, you had better strap
+a gun on to your belt."
+
+"I don't like revolver carrying," Tom replied bluntly. "It always
+makes a coward of a fellow."
+
+Two mornings later the telegraph wire, one end of which now rested
+in a tent in camp, brought word that President Newnham was at the
+construction camp, and would be along in the course of the day.
+
+Tom, Harry and the draughtsmen were the only engineers in camp
+at the hour when the message arrived.
+
+"Big doings coming our way!" announced Tom, after he had broken
+the news to the others.
+
+"Is Mr. Newnham likely to make much of a shake-up?" asked Watson,
+one of the college-boy draughtsmen.
+
+"I've never met him," Tom answered, "and I don't know. We're
+going along at grand old speed, and Mr. Newnham had better let
+things run just as they're going now, if he wants to see the S.B.
+& L. open for traffic within charter time."
+
+"He may give all of us university boys the swift run," laughed
+another of the draughtsmen.
+
+"I don't believe it," Tom replied. "The added help that you fellows
+have given us has enabled us to double our rush forward. I've a
+notion that President Newnham is a man of great common sense."
+
+"How are the sick men this morning," inquired Harry. "Is either
+one of them fit to talk with the president?"
+
+"Doc Gitney says he won't allow any caller within a thousand feet
+of his patients," Tom smiled. "And Doc seems to be a man of his
+word."
+
+Both Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell were now weakly conscious,
+in a half-dazed sort of way. Their cases were progressing favorably
+on the whole, though it would be weeks ere either would be fit
+to take charge of affairs.
+
+The camp had been moved forward, so as to leave the sick men about
+a fifth of a mile away from the scenes of camp activity. This
+insured quiet for them until they were able to endure noise once more.
+
+"You'll be amazingly busy until the president gets here, I take
+it," remarked Bushrod, another college boy, without glancing up
+from his drawing table.
+
+"Yes," drawled Tom, with a smile. "When you get time to breathe
+look out of the door and see what I'm doing."
+
+Tom walked over to his favorite seat, a reclining camp chair that
+he had placed under a broad shade tree. Seating himself, the
+cub chief opened a novel that he had borrowed from one of the
+college boys.
+
+"It looks lazy," yawned Tom, "but what can I do? I've hustled
+the corps, but I'm up with them to the last minute of work they've
+done. There is nothing more I can do until they bring me more
+work. I might ride out and see how the fellows are coming along
+in the field, but I was out there yesterday, and I know all they're
+doing, and everyone of their problems. Besides, if I rode afield,
+I'd miss Mr. Newnham."
+
+So he opened the book and read for an hour. Then he glanced up
+as a stranger on horseback rode into camp.
+
+"Tell me where I can find Mr. Reade," said the new arrival.
+
+"You're looking at hire," Tom replied.
+
+"No, son; I want your father," explained the horseman.
+
+"If you go on horseback it will take you months to reach him,"
+Tom explained. "My father lives 'way back east."
+
+"But I want the chief engineer of this outfit," insisted the stranger.
+
+"Then you're at the end of your journey."
+
+"Don't tell me, young man, that you're the chief engineer," protested
+the horseman.
+
+"No," Tom admitted modestly. "I'm only the acting chief. Hold
+on. If you think I'm not responsible for that statement you might
+ask any of the fellows over in the headquarters tent."
+
+At that moment Harry Hazelton thrust his head out through the
+doorway.
+
+"Young man," hailed the stranger, "I want to find the chief."
+
+"Reach out your hand, and you can touch him on the shoulder,"
+answered Hazelton, and turned back.
+
+"I know I don't look entirely trustworthy," grinned Tom, "but
+I've been telling you the truth."
+
+"Then, perhaps," continued the stranger, looking keenly at the
+cub engineer, "you'll know why I'm here. I'm Dave Fulsbee."
+
+"You're mighty welcome, then," cried Tom, reaching out his hand.
+"I've been wondering where you were."
+
+"I came as soon as I could get the wagon-load of equipment together,"
+grinned Fulsbee.
+
+"Where is the wagon?"
+
+"Coming along up the trail. It will be here in about twenty minutes."
+
+"I'll be glad to see your equipment, and to set you at work as
+soon as we're ready," Reade went on. "Harry, show Mr. Fulsbee
+the tent we've set aside for himself and his helper."
+
+"Who is that party?" questioned Watson, as Hazelton started off
+with the newcomer in tow.
+
+"Oh, just a new expert that we're taking on," Tom drawled.
+
+Ten minutes later all other thoughts were driven from Reade's
+mind. A mountain wagon was sighted coming up the trail, drawn
+by a pair of grays. The stout gentleman, on the rear seat, dressed
+in the latest fashion, even to his highly polished shoes, must
+surely be all the way from Broadway.
+
+"Mr. Newnham?" queried Tom, advancing to the wagon as it halted.
+
+"Yes; is Mr. Reade here?"
+
+"You're speaking to him, sir," smiled the cub engineer.
+
+Mr. Newnham took a quick look, readjusted his spectacles, and
+looked once more. Tom bore the scrutiny calmly.
+
+"I expected to find a very young man here, Mr. Reade, but you're
+considerably younger than I had expected. Yet Howe, in charge
+of the construction corps, tells me that you've been hustling
+matters at this field survey end. How are you, Reade?"
+
+Mr. Newnham descended from the wagon, at once holding out his hand.
+
+"I'm very comfortable, thank you, sir," Tom smiled.
+
+"You're dreadfully busy, I'm sure," continued the president of
+the S.B. & L. "In fact, Reade, I feel almost guilty in coming
+here and taking up your time when you've such a drive on. Don't
+let me detain you. I can go right on into the field and talk
+with you there."
+
+"It won't be necessary, sir," Tom answered, with another smile.
+"I'm not doing anything in particular."
+
+"Nothing in particular? Why, I thought-----"
+
+"I don't do any tearing around myself," laughed Reade. "Since
+you were kind enough to make me acting chief engineer here I've
+kept the other fellows driving pretty hard, and I have every bit
+of work done right up to the minute. Yet, as for myself, I have
+little to do, most of the day, except to sit in a camp easy chair,
+or else I ride a bit over the ground and see just where the fellows
+are working."
+
+"You take it mighty easily," murmured President Newnham.
+
+"A chief may, if he has the sense to know how to work his
+subordinates," Tom continued. "I don't believe, sir, that you'll
+find any fault with the way matters have gone forward."
+
+"Let me see the latest reports," urged Mr. Newnham.
+
+"Certainly, sir, if you'll come into the head-quarters tent."
+
+Leading the way into the tent where Harry Hazelton and his draughting
+force were at work, Tom announced:
+
+"Gentlemen, Mr. Newnham, president of the S.B. & L., wishes to
+look over the reports and the maps with me. You may lay off until
+called back to work."
+
+As the others filed out of the tent, Tom made Harry a sign to
+remain. Then the three went over the details of what the field
+survey party was doing.
+
+"From all I can see," remarked President Newnham, "you have done
+wonderfully well, Reade. I can certainly find no fault with Tim
+Thurston for recommending that you be placed in charge. Thurston
+will certainly be jealous when he gets on his feet again. You
+have driven the work ahead in faster time than Thurston himself
+was able to do."
+
+"It's very likely, sir," replied Tom Reade, "that I have had an
+easier part of the country to work through than Mr. Thurston had.
+Then, again, the taking on of the engineer student party from
+the State University has enabled us to get ahead with much greater
+speed."
+
+"I wonder why Thurston never thought to take on the students,"
+murmured Mr. Newnham.
+
+Bang! sounded an explosion, a mile or two to the westward.
+
+"I didn't know that you were doing any blasting, Reade," observed
+the president of the S.B. & L.
+
+"Neither did I, sir," Tom replied, rising and listening.
+
+Bang! bang! bang! sounded a series of sharp reports.
+
+Tom ran out into the open Mr. Newnham following at a slower gait.
+
+Bang! bang! bang!
+
+"Hi, there, Riley!" roared Tom promptly. "Saddle two horses as
+quickly as you can. Harry, make ready to follow with me as soon
+as the horses are ready."
+
+"Is anything wrong?" inquired the president. He was answered by more
+explosions in the distance.
+
+"I'm afraid so," Tom muttered, showing his first trace of uneasiness.
+"However, I don't want to say, Mr. Newnham, until I've investigated."
+
+Before the horses were ready Tom descried, half a mile away, on
+a clear bit of trail, a horseman riding in at a furious gallop.
+
+"There comes a messenger, Mr. Newnham," Tom went on. "We'll soon
+know just what the trouble is."
+
+"Trouble?" echoed Mr. Newnham, in astonishment. "Then you believe
+that is the word, do you?"
+
+"I'm afraid, Mr. Newnham, that you've reached here just in time to
+see some very real trouble," was Reade's quick answer. "But wait
+just two minutes, sir, and we'll have exact information. Guessing
+won't do any good."
+
+Once or twice, through the trees, they caught sight of the on-rushing
+rider. Then Jack Rutter, a big splotch of red on the left sleeve
+of his shirt, rode hard into camp.
+
+"Reade," he shouted, "we're ambushed! Hidden scoundrels have
+been firing on us."
+
+"You've ordered all the men in?" called Tom, as Rutter reined
+up beside him.
+
+"Every man of them," returned Jack. "Poor Reynolds, of the student
+party, is rather seriously hit, I'm afraid. Some of the fellows
+are bringing him in."
+
+"You're hit yourself," Tom remarked.
+
+"What? That little scratch?" demanded Rutter scornfully. "Don't
+count me as a wounded man, Reade. There are some firearms in
+this camp. I want to get the men armed, as far as the weapons
+will go, and then I want to go back and smoke out the miserable
+rascals!"
+
+"It won't be wise, Jack," Tom continued coolly. "You'll find
+that there are too many of the enemy. Besides, you won't have
+to fatigue yourselves by going back over the trail. The scoundrels
+will be here, before long. They doubtless intend to wipe out
+the camp."
+
+"Assassins coming to wipe out the camp?" almost exploded President
+Newnham. "Reade, this is most extraordinary!"
+
+"It is---very," Tom assented dryly.
+
+"But who can the villains be?"
+
+"A picked-up gang of gun-fighters, sent here to blow this camp
+off the face of the earth, since that is the only way that the
+backers of the rival road can find to set us back," Tom rejoined.
+"If they drive us away from here, they'll attack the construction
+force next!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+SHUT OFF FROM THE WORLD
+
+
+Five horsemen belonging to the field party rode in furiously, Matt
+Rice at their head.
+
+"It's a shame," yelled Rice, as he threw himself from his horse.
+"I'd have stayed behind---so would the others---if we had had rifles
+with us. The scoundrels kept up a fire at a quarter of a mile range.
+Then we passed the men who are carrying Reynolds---they're almost
+here now---but it wouldn't have done any good for us to stand by them.
+We'd have made the other party only a bigger mark. Where are the
+revolvers, Reader? We've got to make a stand here. We can't run away
+and leave our camp to fall into their hands."
+
+"We're not going to run away," said Reade grimly. "But I'll tell
+you what a half dozen of you can do. Hustle for shovels and dig
+a deep hole here. This gentleman is Mr. Newnham, president of the
+company that employs us. If the camp is attacked we can't afford to
+have the president of the road killed."
+
+"Mr. Newnham would do far better to ride down the trail as fast as
+he can go, and try to join the construction camp," offered Rutter.
+
+The president of the S.B. & L. had been silent during the last few
+exciting moments. But now he opened his mouth long enough to reply
+very quickly:
+
+"Mr. Newnham hasn't any thoughts of flight. I am not a fighting
+man, and never saw a shot fired in anger in my life, but I'm going
+to stand my ground in my own camp."
+
+"Dig the hole, anyway," ordered Tom. "We'll want a safe place to put
+young Reynolds. We can't afford to leave him exposed to fire."
+
+"Where are the revolvers?" Rice insisted, as others started to get
+shovels and dig in a hurry.
+
+"Oh, never mind the revolvers," replied Tom. "We won't use 'em,
+anyway. We can't, for they wouldn't carry far enough to put any of
+the enemy in danger."
+
+"Mr. Reade," remarked Mr. Newnham, in a quiet undertone, "does it
+occur to you that you are making no preparations to defend the camp!
+That, in fact, you seem wholly indolent in the matter?"
+
+"Oh, no; I'm not indolent, sir," smiled Tom. "You'll find me
+energetic enough, sir, I imagine, when the need for swift work comes."
+
+"Of course you couldn't foresee the coming of any such outrage
+as this," Mr. Newnham continued.
+
+"Oh, I rather guessed that this sort of thing was coming," Tom
+confessed.
+
+"You guessed it---and yet the camp has been left undefended? You
+haven't taken any steps to protect the company's rights and property
+at this point?" gasped Mr. Newnham.
+
+"You will find, sir, that I am not wholly unprepared," Reade remarked
+dryly, while the corners of his mouth drew down grimly.
+
+Tom was apparently the only one in camp, after the excitement
+started, who had noted that Dave Fulsbee, at the first shots, had
+leaped to his horse and vanished down the trail to the eastward.
+
+At this moment a party of a dozen, headed by Professor Coles, came
+in on foot, bearing young Reynolds with them.
+
+"Harry, mount one of the saddled horses and rush down yonder for
+Doc Gitney," Tom ordered. "Give him your horse to come back on.
+He must see to young Reynolds promptly."
+
+Some of the field party came in on horseback, followed soon by still
+others on foot. Many of the field engineering party, in their haste,
+had left their instruments, rods and chains behind.
+
+Tom, after diving into and out of the headquarters tent, held up a
+pair of powerful binocular field glasses. With these he took
+sweeping views of the near-by hills to the westward.
+
+"The scoundrels haven't gotten in at close quarters yet, sir," Reade
+reported to President Newnham. "At least, I can't make out a sign
+of them on the high ground that commands this camp."
+
+"This whole business of an armed attack on us is most incomprehensible
+to me," remarked Mr. Newnham. "I know, of course, that the W.C.
+& A. haven't left a stone unturned to defeat our efforts in getting
+our road running within the limits set in the charter. However,
+the W.C. & A. people are crazy to send armed assassins against
+us in the field in this fashion. No matter, now, whether we finish
+the road on time, this rascally work by the opposition will defeat
+their hopes of getting the charter away from us."
+
+"It might prevent them from doing so, sir," Tom rejoined quietly,
+"if you were able to prove that the scoundrels who fired on our
+engineering parties this morning were really employed by the W.C.
+& A. railroad crowd."
+
+"Prove it?" snorted the man from Broadway. "Who else would have
+any interest in blocking us?"
+
+"Would that statement go in court, or before a legislature?" Tom
+pressed.
+
+"No, it wouldn't," President Newnham admitted thoughtfully. "I see
+the point, Reade. After the scoundrels have done their worst against
+us, they can disperse, vanishing among the hills, and the W.C. & A.
+people will simply deny that they were behind the attack, and will
+call upon us to prove it."
+
+"Not only that, sir," continued the cub chief engineer, "but I doubt
+if any of the officials of the W.C. & A. have any real knowledge that
+such a move is contemplated. This trick proceeds from the fertile
+mind of some clever, well-paid scoundrel who is employed in the
+opposition railroad's gloom department. It is a cleverly thought-out
+scheme to make us lose three or four days of work, which will be
+enough to prevent us from finishing the road on time. So, the
+enemy think that we must lose the charter, sir."
+
+"That trick will never work," declared Mr. Newnham angrily. "Reade,
+there are courts, and laws. If the State of Colorado doesn't protect
+us in our work, then we can't be held to am count for not finishing
+within a given time."
+
+"That's as the legislature may decide, I imagine, sir," hazarded
+the young engineer. "There are powerful political forces working
+to turn this road's charter over to the W.C. & A. crowd. Your
+company's property, Mr. Newnham, is entitled to protection from the
+state, of course. The state, however, will be able to reply that
+the authorities were not notified, and could not send protection
+to us."
+
+"But we have a telegraph running from here out into the world!"
+cried the man from Broadway way, wheeling like a flash. "Reade,
+we're both idiots not to have remembered, at the first shots,
+to send an urgent message to Denver. Where's your operating tent?"
+
+"Over there. I'll take you there, sir," offered Tom, after pointing.
+"Still it won't do any good, Mr. Newnham, to think of telegraphing."
+
+"Not do us any good?" echoed the other, aghast. "What nonsense
+are you talking, Reade? If we are hindered the feet of our having
+wired to the governor of the state will be our first proof of having
+appealed to the state for protection. Can't you see that, Reade?"
+
+The pair now turned in at the operator's tent.
+
+"Operator," said Reade, to the young man seated before the keys on
+a table, "this gentleman man is President Newnham, of the S.B. & L.
+Send any messages that he dictates."
+
+"Get Denver on the wire," commanded Mr. Newnham. "Hustle!"
+
+Click-click-click! rattled the sounder.
+
+"It won't do a particle of good," Tom uttered calmly. "'Gene Black,
+the engineer discharged from this camp, is serving the enemy.
+Black has brains enough to see that our wire was cut before he
+started a thing moving."
+
+Click-click-click! spoke the sounder again.
+
+"I can't get a thing," explained the operator. "I can't even get a
+response from the construction camp. Mr. Reade must be right---our
+wire has been cut and we're shut off from the outside world."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE REAL ATTACK BEGINS
+
+
+Hearing the moving wheels of a wagon on the trail, Tom looked outside,
+then seized Mr. Newnham's arm rather roughly.
+
+"Come along, sir, and come quickly, if you want to see something
+that will beat a carload of telegrams," urged the cub engineer.
+
+Having gotten the president of the road outside, Tom let go of
+his arm and raced on before that astonished man from Broadway.
+
+"Here, you fellows," called Tom, almost gayly, as he ran to where
+engineers and chainmen men were standing in little groups, talking
+gloomily over the forenoon's work. "Get in line, here---a whole
+crowd of you!"
+
+Dave Fulsbee was now riding briskly toward the centre of the camp,
+ahead of the wagon for which he had gone down the trail. Laughing
+quietly, Tom hustled group after group of young men into one long
+line.
+
+"Hold up your right hands!" called out the young cub engineer.
+
+Wondering, his subordinates obeyed. Fulsbee reined up, dismounting
+before the line.
+
+"They're all ready for you, friend," called Tom gayly.
+
+"Listen, boys!" commanded Dave Fulsbee, as he faced the line on
+foot. "You do each and all of you, singly and severally, hereby
+swear that you will serve truly and well as special deputy sheriffs,
+and obey all lawful orders, so help you God?"
+
+Almost in complete silence the hands fell as their owners nodded.
+Both the engineers and rodmen felt a trifle dazed. Why was this
+solitary deputy sheriff before them, and with what did he expect
+them to fight! Were they to stand and throw rocks at an enemy armed
+with rifles?
+
+But just then the wagon was driven in front of them.
+
+"Hustle the cases out, boys! Get 'em open!" commanded Dave, though
+he spoke without excitement. "Forty rifles and ten thousand cartridges,
+all borrowed from the National Guard of the State. Get busy!
+If the coyotes down to the westward try to get busy around here
+we will talk back to them!"
+
+"Whoop!" yelled the college boys. They pushed and crowded about
+the wooden cases that were now unloaded.
+
+"See here," boomed in the deep voice of Professor Coles, "I wasn't
+sworn in, and I now insist that I, too, be sworn."
+
+"Mr. Newnham, tell the professor that fighting is a boy's business,
+and that there isn't any call for him to risk himself," appealed
+Tom. "There are plenty of youngsters here to do the fighting
+and to take the chances."
+
+"Surely, there appear to be enough men," chuckled President Newnham,
+who, since he realized that rifles and ammunition were at hand,
+appeared to be wonderfully relieved. "Professor, don't think of
+running yourself into any danger. Look on, with me."
+
+"Rifles are all given out, now, anyway," called Dave Fulsbee coolly.
+"Now, youngsters, I'm going to show you where to station yourselves.
+Mr. Reade, have you seen anything through the glasses that looks
+interesting?"
+
+"By Jove," Tom admitted, flushing guiltily, "I quite forgot to keep
+the lenses turned on the hills to the west."
+
+He now made good for his omission, while Fulsbee led his young men
+away, stationing them in hiding places along the westward edge of
+the camp. Each man with a rifle was ordered not to rise from the
+ground, or to show himself in any way, and not to fire unless orders
+were given. Then Dave hurried back to the wagon. Something else
+was lifted out, all canvas covered, and rushed forward to a point
+just behind a dense clump of bushes.
+
+"Reade, I want to apologize to you," cried the man from Broadway,
+moving quickly over to where Tom stood surveying the hills beyond
+through his glass. "I thought, for a few minutes, that you had
+suspected some such rascally work afoot, and that you had failed
+to take proper precautions."
+
+"If I had failed, sir," murmured Tom, without removing the glass
+from before his eyes, "you would have arrived just in time, sir,
+to turn out of the camp a man who wasn't fit to be in charge.
+Yet it was only accident, sir, that led me to suspect what might
+be in the air."
+
+Thereupon Tom hastily recounted to the president of the company
+the story of how he had accidentally overheard fragments of talk
+between 'Gene Black and Bad Pete.
+
+"That gave me a hint of how the wind was blowing," Tom continued,
+"though I couldn't make out enough of their talk, on either occasion,
+to learn just what was happening. I telegraphed to the nearest
+town that had a sheriff in it, and that put me in touch with Fulsbee.
+Then Dave, over the wire, offered to bring arms here and to help
+us to defend our camp."
+
+"Mr. Reade," exclaimed President Newnham hoarsely, "you are a
+wonderful young man! While seeming to be idle yourself, you have
+rushed the work through in splendid shape." Even when our enemies
+plot in the dark, and plan incredible outrages against us, you fully
+inform yourself of their plans. When the cowards strike you are
+ready to meet them, force for force. You may be only a cub
+engineer, but you have an amazing genius for the work in which
+chance has placed you out here."
+
+"You may be guilty, Mr. Newnham, of giving me far more credit than
+I deserve," laughed Tom gently. "In the matter of finding out the
+enemy's designs, I didn't, and I don't know fully yet what the other
+side intends to do to us. What I did learn was by accident."
+
+"Very few other young men would have been equal to making the
+greatest and best use of what accident revealed," insisted Mr.
+Newnham warmly.
+
+Harry Hazelton came now, from the hole in the ground, to report
+that Dr. Gitney had done all he could for the comfort of poor
+young Reynolds.
+
+"Gitney says that Reynolds ought to come along all right, as far
+as the mere wound itself is concerned," Hazelton added. "What
+will have to be looked out for is suppuration. If pus forms in
+and around the wound it may carry Reynolds off, for there are
+no hospital conveniences to be had in this wild neck of the woods."
+
+"Is the doctor staying with Reynolds?" Tom asked, still using the
+glasses on the hilly country that lay ahead.
+
+"No; he has gone back to Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell," Hazelton
+answered. "Doc says he'll have to be with them to quiet them in
+case the firing gets close. He says both men will become excited and
+try to jump out of bed and come over here. Doc says he's going to
+strap 'em both down."
+
+"Dr. Gitney may be badly needed here, if a fight opens," Tom mused
+aloud.
+
+"He says, if we need him, to send for him."
+
+"Come through a hot fire?" Tom gasped.
+
+"Surely! Doc Gitney is a Colorado man, born and bred. He doesn't
+mind a lead shower when it comes in the line of duty," laughed
+Harry. "Now, if you're through using me as a messenger, I'm going
+to find a rifle."
+
+"You won't succeed," Tom retorted. "Every rifle in camp already
+has an amateur soldier behind it."
+
+"Just my luck!" growled Harry.
+
+"You're a good, husky lad," Tom continued. "If you want to be
+of real use, just lie down hug the earth, take good care not to
+be hit, and-----"
+
+"Fine and manly!" interjected Hazelton with contempt.
+
+"Now, don't try to be a hero," urged Tom teasingly. "There are
+altogether too many green, utterly inexperienced heroes here at
+present. Be useful, Harry, old chum, and let those who are good
+for nothing else be heroes."
+
+"Following your own advice?" asked Hazelton. "Is that why you
+haven't a rifle yourself?"
+
+"Why do I need a rifle?" demanded Reade. "I'm a non-combatant."
+
+"You-----"
+
+"Box the chatter, Harry, and ship it east," Tom interposed, showing
+signs of interest. Then, in a louder voice, Tom called:
+
+"Dave Fulsbee!"
+
+"Here," answered the deputy sheriff from his hiding place in the
+brush.
+
+"Do you see that bald knob of rock ahead, to your left; about
+a quarter of a mile away?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"I make out figures crawling to the cover of the line of brush
+just to the right of the bald knob," Tom continued. "There are
+eight of them, I think."
+
+"I see figures moving there," Dave answered. Then, in a low voice,
+the deputy instructed the engineers on each side of him.
+
+"I see half a dozen more figures---heads, rather---showing just
+at the summit line of the rock itself," went on Reade.
+
+"Yes; I make 'em," answered Fulsbee, after a long, keen look.
+
+Again more instructions were given to the engineers.
+
+"Say, I've _got_ to have a rifle," insisted Harry nervously.
+"You know, I always have been 'cracked, on target shooting. This
+is the best practical chance that I'll ever have."
+
+"You'll have to wait your turn, Harry," Tom urged soothingly.
+
+"My turn?"
+
+"Yes; wait until one of our fellows is badly hit. Then you can
+take up his rifle and move into his place on the line. When you're
+hit, then I can have the rifle."
+
+Hazelton made a face, though he said nothing.
+
+Meanwhile Fulsbee's assistant, the man who had driven the wagon into
+camp, stood silent, motionless, behind the canvas-covered object in
+the bushes just behind the engineer's fighting line.
+
+"Now, if one of you galoots dares to fire before he gets the word,"
+sounded Dave Fulsbee's warning voice in the ominous calm that
+followed, "I'll snatch the offender out of the line and give him
+a good, sound spanking. The only man for me is the man who has
+the nerve to wait when he's being shot at."
+
+Crack! Far up on the bald knob a single shot sounded, and a bullet
+struck the ground about six feet from where Tom Reade stood with
+the binocular at his eyes.
+
+Then there came a volley from the right of the rock, followed
+by one from the rock itself.
+
+"Easy, boys," cautioned Fulsbee, as the bullets tore up the ground
+back of the firing line. "I'll give you the word when the time
+comes."
+
+Another volley sounded. Bullets tore up the ground near President
+Newnham, and one leaden pellet carried off that gentleman's soft
+hat.
+
+"Please lie down, Mr. Newnham," begged Tom, turning around. Now
+that the fight had opened the cub chief saw less use for the binocular.
+"We can't have you hit, sir. You're the head of the company,
+please remember."
+
+"I don't like this place, but I'm only one human life here," the man
+from Broadway replied quietly, gravely. "If other men so readily
+risk their lives for the property of my associates and myself, then
+I'm going to expose myself at least as much as these young men ahead
+of us do."
+
+"Just one shot apiece," sounded Dave Fulsbee's steady voice.
+"Fire where you've been told."
+
+It was an irregular volley that ripped out from the defenders
+of the camp. Half of the marksmen fired to the right of the rook,
+the others at its crest.
+
+Right on top of this came another volley, fired from some new
+point of attack. It filled the air at this end of the camp with
+bullets.
+
+"Livin' rattlers!", cried Dave Fulsbee, leaping to his feet. "That's
+the real attack. Reade, locate that main body and turn us loose on
+'em. If you don't, the fellows in the real ambush will soon make a
+sieve of this camp. There must be a regiment of 'em!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+WHEN THE CAMP GREW WARM
+
+
+President Newnham had prudently decided to lie down flat on the ground.
+
+Nor was it any reflection on his courage that he did so. He was
+taking no part in the fight, and the leaden tornado that swept
+the camp from some unknown point was almost instantly repeated.
+
+At the same time the marksmen on and at the right of the bald
+knob continued to fire. The camp defenders were in a criss-cross
+of fire that might have shaken the nerves of an old and tried
+soldier.
+
+Tom watched the ground as bullets struck, trying to decide their
+original course from the directions in which the dust flew. Then
+he swung around to the right.
+
+With modern smokeless powder there was no light, bluish haze to
+mark the firing line of the new assailants. Tom Reade had to
+search and explore with his binocular glass until he could make
+out moving heads, waving arms.
+
+"I've found 'em, Fulsbee!" young Reade cried suddenly, above the
+noise of rifles within a few yards of where they stood, as the
+engineers made the most of their chances to fire. "Turn the same
+way that I'm looking. See that blasted pine over there to your
+right, about six hundred there to the gully southeast of the tree.
+Got the line? Well, along there there's a line of men hidden.
+Through the glass I can sometimes make out the flash of their rifles.
+Take the glass yourself, and see."
+
+Dave Fulsbee snatched the binoculars, making a rapid survey.
+
+"Reade," he admitted, "you have surely located that crowd."
+
+"Now, go after them with your patent hay rake," quivered Tom,
+feeling the full excitement of the thing in this tantalizing cross
+fire. Then the cub added, with a sheepish grin:
+
+"I hope you'll scare 'em, instead of hitting 'em, Dave."
+
+Fulsbee stepped over to his assistant. Between them they swung
+the machine gun around, the assistant wrenching off the canvas
+cover. Fulsbee rapidly sighted the piece for six hundred yards.
+The assistant stood by to feed belts of cartridges, while Dave took
+his post at the firing mechanism.
+
+Cr-r-r-r-rack! sounded the machine gun, spitting forth a pelting
+storm of lead. As the piece continued to disgorge bullets at
+the rate of six hundred a minute, Dave, a grim smile on his lips,
+swung the muzzle of the piece so as to spread the fire along the
+entire line of the main ambush.
+
+"Take the glass," Tom roared in Harry's ear, above the din. "See
+how Fulsbee is throwing up dust and bits of rock all along that
+rattled line."
+
+Hazelton watched, his face showing an appreciative grin.
+
+"It has the scoundrels scared and going!" Hazelton yelled back.
+
+Fully fifteen hundred cartridges did the machine gun deliver up
+and down that line.
+
+Then, suddenly, Dave Fulsbee swung the gun around, delivering
+a hailstorm of bullets against the bald knob rock and the bushes
+to the right of it.
+
+"There's the answer!" gleefully uttered Hazelton, who had just
+handed the glass back to his chum.
+
+The "answer" was a fluttering bit of white cloth tied to a rifle
+and hoisted over the bushes at the right of the bald knob.
+
+"Who do you suppose is holding the white cloth?" chuckled Tom.
+
+"I can't guess," Harry confessed.
+
+"Our old and dangerous friend Peter," Tom laughed.
+
+"Bad Pete!"
+
+"No; Scared Pete."
+
+There was a sudden twinkle in Hazelton's eyes as he espied Dave
+Fulsbee's rifle lying on the ground beside the machine gun.
+
+In another instant Harry had that rifle and was back at Tom's
+side.
+
+Harry threw open the magazine, making sure that there were cartridges
+in the weapon. Then he dropped to one knee, taking careful sight
+in the direction of the white flag.
+
+"You idiot---what are you doing?" blazed Tom.
+
+The fire from the camp had died out. That from the assailants
+beyond had ceased at least thirty seconds earlier.
+
+One sharp report broke the hush that followed.
+
+"Who's doing that work? Stop it!" ordered Fulsbee, turning
+wrathfully.
+
+"I'm through," grinned Harry meekly.
+
+"What do you mean by shooting at a flag of truce?" demanded the
+deputy sheriff angrily.
+
+"I didn't," Harry argued, laying the rifle down on the ground.
+"I sent one in with my compliments, to see whether the fellow
+with the white rag would get the trembles. I guess he did, for
+the white rag has gone out of sight."
+
+"They may start the firing again," uttered Dave Fulsbee. "They'll
+feel that you don't respect their flag of truce."
+
+"I didn't feel a heap of respect for the fellow that held up the
+white flag," Hazelton admitted, with another grin. "It was Bad
+Pete, and I wanted to see what his nerve was like when someone
+else was doing the shooting and he was the target."
+
+"Peter simply flopped and dropped his gun, Tom declared.
+
+"Say," muttered Harry, his face showing real concern, "I hope
+I didn't hit him."
+
+"Did you aim at him?" demanded Tom.
+
+"I did not."
+
+"Then there _is_ some chance that Peter was hit," Tom confessed.
+"Harry, when you're shooting at a friend, and in a purely hospitable
+way, always aim straight for him. Then the poor fellow will have
+a good chance to get off with a whole skin!"
+
+"Cut out that line of talk," ordered Hazelton, his face growing
+red. "Back in the old home days, Tom, you've seen me do some
+great shooting."
+
+"With the putty-blower---yes," Tom admitted, with a chuckle.
+"Say, wasn't Old Dut Jones, of the Central Grammar, rough on boys
+who used putty-blowers in the schoolroom?"
+
+"If Pete was hit, it wasn't my shot that did it," muttered Harry,
+growing redder still. "I aimed for the centre of that white rag.
+If we ever come across the rag we'll find my bullet hole through
+it. That was what I hit."
+
+Deputy Dave's assistant was now cleaning out the soot-choked barrels
+of the machine gun, that the piece might be fit for use again as soon
+as the barrels had cooled.
+
+"I reckon," declared Dave, "that our friends have done their worst.
+It's my private wager that they're now doing a foot race for the
+back trails."
+
+"Is any one of our fellows hit?" called Tom, striding over to
+the late firing line. "Anyone hit? If so, we must take care
+of him at once."
+
+Tom went the length of the line, only to discover that none of
+the camp's defenders had been injured, despite the shower of bullets
+that had been poured in during the brief but brisk engagement.
+Three of the engineers displayed clothing that had been pierced
+by bullets.
+
+"Dave," called Tom, "how soon will it be safe to send over to
+the late strongholds and find out whether any of Naughty Peter's
+friends have any hurts that demand Doc Gitney's attention?"
+
+"Huh! If any of the varmints are hit, I reckon they can wait,"
+muttered Fulsbee.
+
+"Not near this camp!" retorted Reade with spirit. "If any human
+being around here has been hurt he must have prompt care. How
+soon will it be safe to start?"
+
+"I don't know how soon it will be safe," Dave retorted. "I want
+to take about a half dozen of the young fellows, on horseback,
+and ride over just to see if we can draw any fire. That will
+show whether the rascals have quit their ambushes."
+
+"If they haven't," mocked Tom, "they'll also show your little
+party some new gasps in the way of excitement."
+
+Nevertheless Reade did not object when Fulsbee called for volunteers.
+If any new firing was to be encountered it was better to risk
+a small force rather than a large one.
+
+Harry Hazelton was one of the six volunteers who rode out with
+Deputy Dave. Though they searched the country for miles they
+did not encounter any of the late raiders. Neither did they find
+any dead or wounded men.
+
+The abandoned transits and other instruments and implements were
+found and brought back to camp.
+
+While this party was absent Tom took Mr. Newnham back to headquarters
+tent, where he explained, in detail, all that had been accomplished
+and all that was now being done.
+
+Late in the afternoon Dave Fulsbee and his little force returned. Tom
+listened attentively to the report made by the sheriff's officer.
+
+"They've cheated you out of one day's work, anyway," muttered the
+man from Broadway, rather fretfully.
+
+"We can afford to lose the time," Tom answered almost carelessly.
+"Our field work is well ahead. It's the construction work that
+is bothering me most. I hope soon to have news as to whether the
+construction outfit has been attacked."
+
+"The wires are all up again, sir," reported the operator, pausing
+at the doorway of the tent. "The men you sent back have mended
+all the breaks. I've just heard from the construction camp that
+none of the unknown scoundrels have been heard from there."
+
+"They found you so well prepared here," suggested President Newnham,
+"that the rascals have an idea that the construction camp is also
+well guarded. I imagine we've heard the last of the opposition."
+
+"Then you're going to be fooled, sir," Tom answered, very decisively.
+"For my part, I believe that the tactics of the gloom department
+of the W.C. & A. have just been commenced. Fighting men of a sort
+are to be had cheap in these mountains, and the W.C. & A. railroad
+is playing a game that it's worth millions to win. They're resolved
+that we shan't win. And I, Mr. Newnham, am determined that we shall win!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+SHERIFF GREASE DROPS DAVE
+
+
+Tom's prediction came swiftly true in a score of ways.
+
+The gloom department of the W.C. & A. immediately busied itself
+with the public.
+
+The "gloom department" is a comparatively new institution in some
+kinds of high finance circles. Its mission is to throw gloom
+over the undertakings of a rival concern. At the same time, through
+such matter as it can manage to have printed in some sorts of
+newspapers the gloom department seeks to turn the public against
+its business rivals.
+
+That same day news was flashed all over the country that a party
+of railway engineers, led by a mad deputy sheriff had wantonly
+fired on a party of travelers who had had the misfortune to get upon
+the building railway's right of way.
+
+In many parts of Colorado a genuine indignation was aroused against
+the S.B. & L. President Newnham sought to correct the wrong impression,
+but even his carefully thought out statements were misconstrued.
+
+The W.C. & A., though owned mainly abroad, had some clever American
+politicians of the worst sort in its service. Many of these men
+were influential to some extent in Colorado.
+
+The sheriff of the county was approached and inflamed by some of
+these politicians, with the result that the sheriff hastened to the
+field camp, where he publicly dismissed Dave Fulsbee from his force
+of deputies. The sheriff solemnly closed his fiery speech by
+demanding Dave's official badge.
+
+"That's funny, but don't mind, Dave," laughed Tom, as he witnessed
+the handing over of the badge. "You won't be out of work."
+
+"Won't be out of work, eh?" demanded Sheriff Grease hotly. "Just
+let him wait and see. There isn't a man in the county who wants
+Dave Fulsbee about now."
+
+"Then what a disappointed crowd they're going to be," remarked
+Tom pleasantly, "for Mr. Newnham is going to make Dave chief of
+detectives for the company, at a salary of something like six
+thousand a year.
+
+"He is, oh?" gulped down Sheriff Grease. "I'll bet he won't. I'll
+protest against that, right from the start."
+
+"Dave will be our chief of detectives, if you protest all night
+and some more in the morning," returned Tom Reade. "And Dave,
+I reckon, is going to need a force of at least forty men under
+him. Dave will be rather important in the county, won't he, sheriff,
+if he has forty men under him who feel a good deal like voting the
+way that Dave believes? A forty-man boss is quite a little figure
+in politics, isn't he, sheriff?"
+
+Grease turned nearly purple in the face, choking and sputtering
+in his wrath.
+
+"Come along, Dave, and see if that job as chief detective is open
+today," urged Tom, drawing one arm through Fulsbee's. "If you're
+interested in knowing the news, sheriff, you might wait."
+
+"I'll-----" ground out Grease, gritting his teeth and clenching
+one fist. Tom waited patiently for the county officer to finish.
+Then, as he didn't go further, Reade rejoined, half mockingly:
+
+"Exactly, sheriff. That's just what I thought you'd do."
+
+Then Tom dragged Dave down to the headquarters tent, where they
+found the president of the road.
+
+"Mr. Newnham," began Tom gravely, "the sheriff has just come to
+camp and has discharged Fulsbee from his force of deputies, just
+because Fulsbee acted as a real law officer and stopped the raid
+on the road. I have told Mr. Fulsbee, before Sheriff Grease, that
+you are going to make him chief of detectives for the road at a
+salary of about six thousand a year."
+
+Mr. Newnham displayed his astonishment very openly, though he
+did not speak at first.
+
+"That's all right," replied President Newnham. "Mr. Fulsbee,
+do you accept the offer of six thousand as chief detective for
+the road,"
+
+"Does a man accept an invitation to eat when he's hungry?" replied
+Dave rather huskily.
+
+"Then it's settled," put in Tom, anxious to clinch the matter,
+for he had a very shrewd idea that he would need Dave badly ere
+long. "Now, Mr. Newnham, until we get everything running smoothly,
+Mr. Fulsbee ought to have a force of about forty men. They will
+cost seventy-five dollars a month, per man, with an allowance
+for horses, forage, etc. Hadn't Mr. Fulsbee better get his force
+together as soon as possible? For I am certain, sir, that the
+next move by the opposition will be to tear up and blow up our
+tracks at some unguarded points. At the same time, sir, I feel
+certain that we can get far more protection from Chief of Detectives
+Fulsbee's men than from a man like Sheriff Grease."
+
+"Reade?" returned President Newnham, "it is plain to be seen that
+you lose no time in making your plans or in arranging to put them
+into execution. I imagine you're right, for you've been right in
+everything so far. So arrange with Mr. Fulsbee for whatever you
+think may be needed."
+
+"Thank you, sir," murmured Tom. Then he signaled Fulsbee to get
+out of the tent, and followed that new official.
+
+"Never hang around, Dave, after you've got what you want," chuckled
+Tom. "Hello, Mr. Sheriff! This is just a line to tell you that
+Fulsbee has a steady job with the company, and that he'll need
+the services of at least forty men, all of whom must be voters
+in this county. The pay will be seventy-five a month and keep, with
+extra allowance for horses."
+
+Sheriff Grease didn't look much more pleasant than he felt.
+
+"Are you homeward bound---when you go?" continued Reade.
+
+The sheriff nodded.
+
+"Then you might spread the word that men are needed, and tell
+the best men to apply to Dave Fulsbee, at this camp," suggested
+Tom. "Be strong on the point that all applicants have to be voters
+in this county."
+
+"I will," nodded the sheriff, choking down his wrath by a great
+effort. "Dave won't have any trouble in getting good men when
+I spread the word. You're a mighty good fellow, Dave. I always
+said it," added the sheriff. "I'm sorry I had to be rough with
+you, but---but-----"
+
+"Of course we understand here that orders from a political boss
+have to be obeyed," Tom added good-naturedly. "We won't over-blame
+you, Mr. Grease."
+
+The sheriff rode away, Tom's smiling eyes following him.
+
+"That touch about your having forty voters at your beck and call
+must have stuck in the honorable sheriff's crop, Dave," chuckled
+the cub chief engineer.
+
+"I reckon it does," drawled Dave. "A man like Grease can't understand
+that a man of my kind wouldn't ask any fellow working for him
+what ticket he voted for on election day. You certainly hit the
+sheriff hard, Mr. Reade. In the first place, six thousand a year
+is a lot more money than the sheriff gets himself. Forty voters
+are fully as many as he can control, for which reason Grease,
+in his mind's eye, sees me winning his office away from him any day
+that I want to do so."
+
+Ere three days had passed Sheriff Grease had lost fully half of
+his own force, and some of his controlled voters as well, for many
+of his deputies flocked to serve under Dave Fulsbee. The rest of
+the needed detectives also came in, and Dave was soon busy posting
+his men to patrol the S.B. & L. and protect the workers against any
+more raids by armed men.
+
+After a fortnight student Reynolds recovered sufficiently to be sent
+to Denver, there to complete his work of recovering from his wound.
+President Newnham also saw to it that Reynolds was well repaid for
+his services.
+
+The camp moved on. Soon Lineville was sighted from the advanced
+camp of the engineers. As Lineville was to be the western terminus
+of the new railroad the work of the field party was very nearly
+finished.
+
+President Newnham, who was all anxiety to see the first train run
+over the road, remained with the field engineers.
+
+"I couldn't sleep at night, if I were anywhere else than here,"
+explained the president, "though I feel assured now that the W.C.
+& A. will make no more efforts, in the way of violence; to prevent
+us from finishing the building of the road."
+
+"Then you're more trustful than I am," smiled Tom Reade. "What's
+worrying me most of all is that I can't quite fathom in what way
+the W.C. & A's gloom department will plan to stop us. That they
+have some plan---and a rascally one---I'm as certain, sir, as I am
+that I'm now speaking with you."
+
+"Has Fulsbee any suspicions?" inquired Mr. Newnham.
+
+"Loads of 'em," declared Tom promptly.
+
+"What does he think the W.C. & A. will try to do?"
+
+"Dave's suspicions, Mr. Newnham, aren't any more definite than mine.
+He feels certain, however, that we're going to have a hard fight
+before we get the road through."
+
+"Then I hope the opposition won't be able to prevent us from finishing,"
+murmured Mr. Newnham.
+
+"Oh, the enemy won't be able to hinder us," replied Tom confidently.
+"You have a Fulsbee and a Reade on the job, sir. Don't worry.
+I'm not doing any real worrying, and I promise you that I'm not
+going to be beaten."
+
+"It will be a genuine wonder if Reade is beaten," reflected Mr.
+Newnham, watching the cub's athletic figure as Tom walked through
+the centre of the camp. "I never knew a man of any age who was
+more resourceful or sure to win than this same cub, Tom Reade,
+whose very name was unknown to me a few weeks ago. Yet I shiver!
+I can't help it. Men just as resourceful as Tom Reade are sometimes
+beaten to a finish!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+MR. NEWNHAM DROPS A BOMB
+
+
+The field work was done. Yet the field engineers were not dismissed.
+Instead, they were sent back along the line. The construction
+gang was still twelve miles out of Lineville, and the time allowed
+by the charter was growing short.
+
+At Denver certain politicians seemed to have very definite information
+that the S.B. & L. R.R., was not going to finish the building of
+the road and the operating of the first through train within charter
+time.
+
+Where these politicians had obtained their news they did not take the
+trouble to state.
+
+However, they seemed positive that, under the terms of the charter,
+the state would take over as much of the railroad as was finished,
+pay an appraisal price for it, and then turn the road over to
+the W.C. & A. promoters to finish and use as part of their own
+railway system.
+
+These same politicians, by the way, were a handful of keen,
+unscrupulous men who derived their whole income from politics, and
+who had always been identified with movements that the better
+people of the state usually opposed.
+
+Mr. Thurston and his assistant, Blaisdell, were now able to be
+up and to move about a little, but were not yet able to travel
+forward to the point that the construction force had now reached.
+Neither Thurston nor Blaisdell was in fit shape to work, and
+would not be for some weeks to come.
+
+Mr. Newnham, who had learned in these weeks to ride a horse, came
+along in saddle as Tom and Harry stood watching the field camp
+that was now being rapidly taken down by the few men left behind.
+
+"Idling, as usual, Reade?" smiled the president of the road.
+
+"This time I seem to have a real excuse, sir," chuckled Tom.
+"My work is finished. There isn't a blessed thing that I could
+do, if I wanted to. By tomorrow I suppose you will be paying
+me off and letting me go."
+
+"Let you go---before the road is running?" demanded Mr. Newnham,
+in astonishment. "Reade, have you noted any signs of my mind
+failing lately?"
+
+"I haven't, sir."
+
+"Then why should you imagine that I am going to let my chief engineer
+go before the road is in operations"
+
+"But I was acting chief, sir, only of the field work."
+
+"Reade," continued Mr. Newnham, "I have something to tell you.
+Thurston has left our employ. So has Blaisdell. They are not
+dissatisfied in any way, but neither man is yet fit to work.
+Besides, both are tired of the mountains, and want to go east
+together as soon as possible and take up some other line of
+engineering work. So---well, Reade, if you want it, you are
+now chief engineer of the S.B. & L. in earnest."
+
+"Don't trifle with me, sir!" begged Tom incredulously. "I'm too
+far from home."
+
+"No one has ever accused me of being a humorist," replied Mr.
+Newnham dryly. "Now tell me, Reade, whether you want the post I
+have offered you?"
+
+"Want it?" echoed Tom. "Of course I do. Yet doesn't it seem
+too 'fresh' in a cub like myself to take such a post?"
+
+"You've won it," replied the president. "It's also true that
+you're only a cub engineer in years, and there are many greater
+engineers than yourself in the country. You have executive ability,
+however, Reade. You are able to start a thing, and then put it
+through on time---or before. The executive is the type of man who
+is most needed in this or any other country."
+
+"Is an executive a lazy fellow who can make others work!" asked
+Reade.
+
+"No; an executive is a man who can choose other men, and can wisely
+direct them to big achievements. An executive is a director of
+fine team play. That describes you, Reade. However---you haven't
+yet accepted the position as chief engineer of the S.B. & L."
+
+"I'll end your suspense then, sir," smiled the cub. "I _do_ accept,
+and with a big capital 'A'."
+
+"As to your salary," continued Mr. Newnham, "nothing has been
+said about that, and nothing need be said until we see whether
+the road is operating in season to save its charter. If we save
+our charter and the road, your salary will be in line with the
+size of the achievement."
+
+"If we should lose the charter, sir," Tom retorted, his face clouding,
+"I don't believe I'd take any interest in the salary question.
+Money is a fine thing, but the game---the battle---is twenty
+times more interesting. However, I'm going to predict, Mr. Newnham,
+that the road WILL operate on time."
+
+"I believe you're going to make good, Reade, no matter what a
+small coterie of politicians at Denver may think. I never met
+a man who had success stamped more plainly on his face than you
+have. By the way, I shall ask you to keep Mr. Howe as an assistant.
+You still have the appointment of one other assistant, in place
+of Mr. Blaisdell."
+
+"I know the fellow I'd like to appoint," cried Tom eagerly.
+
+"If you're sure about him, then go ahead and appoint him," responded
+the president of the S.B. & L. railway.
+
+"Hazelton!" proclaimed Tom. "Good, old dependable Harry Hazelton!"
+
+"Hazelton would be a wise choice," nodded Mr. Newnham.
+
+"Harry!" called Reade, as his chum appeared in the distance.
+"Come here hustle!"
+
+Mr. Newnham turned away as Hazelton came forward. Tom quickly
+told his chum the news.
+
+"I? Assistant chief engineer?" gasped Harry, turning red. "Whew,
+but that's great! However, I'm not afraid of falling down, Tom,
+with you to steer me. What's the pay of the new job!"
+
+"Not decided," rejoined Tom. "Wait until we get the road through
+and the charter is safe."
+
+"Never mind the wages. The job's the thing, after all!" cried
+Harry, his face aglow. "Whew! I'll send a letter home tonight
+with the news."
+
+"Make it a small post card, then, concealed under a postage stamp,"
+counseled Reade dryly. "We've work ahead of us---not writing."
+
+"What's the first thing you're going to do?" inquired Hazelton.
+
+"The first thing will be to get on the job."
+
+"You're going back to the construction force?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Well, we start within five minutes."
+
+"Whew!"
+
+His face still aglow with happiness, Harry Hazelton bounded off
+to his tent. Tom called to one of the men to saddle two horses,
+and then followed.
+
+"You're going back to the construction camp?" inquired Mr. Newnham,
+looking in at the doorway.
+
+"As fast as horses can take us, sir," Tom replied, as he whipped
+out a clean flannel shirt and drew it over his head.
+
+"I'm going with you," replied Mr. Newnham.
+
+"You'll ride fast, if you go with us, sir," called Tom.
+
+"I can stand it, if you can, Reade. Your enthusiasm and speed
+are 'catching,'" replied the president, with a laugh, as he started
+off to give orders about his horse.
+
+"If the president is going with us, then we'll have to take two
+of Dave Fulsbee's men with us," mused Tom aloud to his chum.
+"It would never do to have our president captured just before
+we're ready to open the road to traffic."
+
+The orders were accordingly given. Tom then appointed one of
+the chainmen to command the camp until the construction gang came up.
+
+Just seven minutes after he had given the first order, Tom Reade
+was in saddle. Hazelton was seated on another horse some thirty
+seconds afterward. The two railroad detectives rode forward,
+halting near by, and all waited for Mr. Newnham.
+
+Nor did the president of the S.B. & L. delay them long. During
+his weeks in camp in the Rockies the man from Broadway had learned
+something of the meaning of the word "hustle."
+
+As the party started Tom ordered one of the detectives to ride
+two hundred yards in advance of the party, the other the same
+distance to the rear.
+
+"Set a good pace, and keep it," called Tom along the trail.
+Shortly after dark the party reached the construction camp, which
+now numbered about five hundred men.
+
+Assistant Chief Engineer Howe appeared more than a little astonished
+when he learned that Tom Reade was the actual chief engineer of
+the road. However, the man who had been in charge so far of the
+construction work made no fuss about being supplanted.
+
+"Show me what part of the work you want me to handle," offered
+Howe, "and you'll find me right with you, Mr. Reade."
+
+"Thank you," responded Tom, holding out his hand. "I'm glad you
+feel no jealousy or resentment. There's just one thing in life
+for all of us, now, and that is to win the fight."
+
+Howe produced the plans and reports, and the three---for Hazelton
+was of their number---sat up until long after midnight laying out
+plans for pushing the work faster and harder.
+
+At four in the morning, while it was still dark, Tom was up again.
+He sat at the desk, going over the work once more until half
+past five o'clock. Then he called Harry and Howe, and the trio
+of chiefs had a hurried breakfast together.
+
+At six in the morning Mr. Newnham appeared, just in time to find
+Tom and Harry getting into saddle.
+
+"Not going to stay behind and sit in an easy chair this morning,
+Reade?" called the president.
+
+"Not this, or any other morning, sir," Tom replied.
+
+"You amaze me!"
+
+"This construction work requires more personal attention, sir.
+I may have twenty minutes to dream, in the afternoon, but my
+mornings are mortgaged each day, from four o'clock on."
+
+An hour later Mr. Howe joined Reade and Hazelton in the field.
+Tom had already prodded three or four foremen, showing them how
+their gangs were losing time.
+
+"If we get the road through on time, and save the charter," Tom
+called, on leaving each working party, "every laborer and foreman
+is to have an extra week's pay for his loyalty to us."
+
+In every instance that statement brought forth a cheer.
+
+"Did Mr. Newnham tell you that you could promise that?" inquired
+Harry.
+
+"No," said Tom shortly.
+
+"Then aren't you going a bit far, perhaps!"
+
+"I don't care," retorted Tom. "Victory is the winning of millions;
+defeat is the loss of millions. Do you imagine Mr. Newnham will
+care about a little thing such as I've promised the men? Harry,
+our president is a badly worried man, though he doesn't allow
+himself to show it. Once the road is finished, operating and
+safe, he won't care what money he has to spend in rewards. He-----"
+
+Tom did not finish his words. Instead he dug his heels into his
+pony, bringing his left hand down hard on that animal's flank.
+
+"Yi, yi, yi! Git!" called Tom, bending low over his mount's neck.
+He drove straight ahead. Hazelton looked astonished for a space
+of five seconds, then started in pursuit of his chum and chief.
+
+It was not long ere Tom reined in, holding up a hand as a signal
+to Harry to do the same thing.
+
+"Here, hold my horse, and stay right here," ordered the young chief.
+
+"Tom, what on earth-----"
+
+Tom Reade was already a hundred yards away, running in amid the
+brush. At last he halted, studying the ground earnestly. Then
+Reade disappeared.
+
+"One thing I know, anyway," muttered the puzzled Hazelton, "Tom
+is not crazy, and he doesn't dash off like that unless he has
+something real on his mind." The minutes passed. At last Tom
+came back, walking energetically. He took his horse's bridle
+and leaded into saddle.
+
+"Harry, ride back, hard, and send me two or three of the railroad
+detectives, unless you happen to meet some of them this side of
+the camp. I want the men on the rush. Don't fail to tell 'em
+that."
+
+"Any---er---explanations" queried Hazelton.
+
+"For you---yes---but don't take the time to pass the explanation
+on to the men. Just hustle 'em here. When I started my horse
+forward it was because I caught sight of 'Gene Black's head over
+the bush tops. I found a few of his footprints, then lost the
+trail. Send Dave Fulsbee along, too, if you have the luck to
+see him. I want 'Gene Black hunted down before he does some big
+mischief. Now---ride!"
+
+Harry Hazelton went back over the trail at a gallop.
+
+Not until he reached camp did he come upon Fulsbee's men. These
+he hustled out to find Tom.
+
+Two hours later Reade came back over the trail, at a slow jog.
+The young chief engineer looked more worried than Hazelton had
+ever seen his chum look before.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE TRAP AT THE FINISH
+
+
+A number of days passed, days full of worry for the young chief
+engineer. Yet, outwardly, Tom Reade was as good-humored and cheery
+as ever.
+
+He was sure that his eyes had played him no trick, and that he
+really had seen 'Gene Black in the brush.
+
+The presence of that scoundrel persuaded Tom that someone working
+in the interests of the W.C. & A. Railroad Company was still employing
+Black in an attempt to block the successful completion of the
+S.B. & L.
+
+Moreover, the news that Dave Fulsbee received from Denver showed
+that two of the officials of the W.C. & A. were in that city,
+apparently ready to proceed to get possession of the rival road.
+
+Politicians asserted that it was a "cinch" that the new road would
+fall short of the charter requirement in the matter of time.
+
+"All this confidence on the part of the enemy is pretty fair proof
+that the scoundrels are up to something," Tom told Mr. Newnham.
+
+"Or else they're trying to break down our nerve so that we'll
+fail through sheer collapse," replied the president of the S.B.
+& L., rubbing his hands nervously. "Reade, why should there be
+such scoundrels in the world?"
+
+"The president is all but completely gone to pieces," Reade confided
+to his chum. "Say, but I'm glad Mr. Newnham himself isn't the
+one who has to get the road through in time. If it rested with
+him I'm afraid he'd fizzle. But we'll pull it through, Harry,
+old chum---we'll pull it through."
+
+"If this thing had to last a month more I'm afraid good old Tom
+would go to pieces himself," thought Harry, as he watched his
+friend stride away. "Tom never gets to his cot now before eleven
+at night, and four thirty in the morning always finds him astir
+again. I wonder if he thinks he's fooling me by looking so blamed
+cheerful and talking so confidently. Whew! I'd be afraid for
+poor old Tom's brain if anything should happen to trip us up."
+
+Harry himself was anxious, but he was not downright nervous.
+He did not feel things as keenly as did his chum; neither was
+Hazelton directly responsible for the success of the big undertaking.
+
+Mile after mile the construction work stretched. Trains were
+running now for work purposes, nearly as far as the line extended.
+
+The telegraph wires ran into the temporary station building at
+Lineville, and the several operators along the line were busy
+carrying orders through the length of the wire service.
+
+Back at Stormburg, where the railroad line began, three trains
+lay on side tracks. These were passenger trains that were to
+run the entire length of the road as soon as it was opened.
+
+Back at Stormburg, also, the new general superintendent slept
+at his office that he might receive messages from President Newnham
+the more quickly.
+
+At Bakerstown a division superintendent was stationed, he, too,
+sleeping at his office.
+
+Once more Tom Reade had brought his work within sight of Lineville.
+In fact, the track extended all but the last mile of the line.
+Ties were down nearly all of the way to the terminal station.
+
+This was the state of affairs at two o'clock in the afternoon.
+Before midnight the last rail must be laid, and the first through
+train from Stormburg must run in. If, at the stroke of midnight,
+the first train had failed to go through, then the charter of
+the S.B. & L. would be forfeited and subject to seizure and sale
+by the state.
+
+Up from Denver some of the worst politicians had come. They were
+quartered at the new little hotel in Lineville. Dave Fulsbee
+had detailed three of his men covertly to watch these same politicians.
+
+Tom, inwardly consumed with fever, outwardly as cheery as human
+being might be, stood watching the laying of the rails over that
+last stretch. The men who could be prevented from dropping in
+their tracks must work until the last rail had been spiked into
+place. Away up in Lineville Harry Hazelton was personally superintending
+the laying of the last ties.
+
+The honk of an automobile horn caused Tom Reade to glance up.
+Approaching him was President Newnham, himself driving the runabout
+that he had had forwarded.
+
+"Reade!" called the president of the S.B. & L., stopping his car,
+and Tom went over to him.
+
+"The suspense is over, at last, Reade," exclaimed Mr. Newnham,
+smiling broadly. "Look! the road is all but completed. Hundreds
+of men are toiling. The first train left Stormburg this morning.
+By seven tonight you'll have the last rails in place. Between eight
+and nine this evening the first through train will have rolled into
+Lineville and we shall have won the fight that has brought me many
+gray hairs. At last the worry is over!"
+
+"Of course, sir," nodded Tom.
+
+"Reade, don't you really believe that the stress is over---that
+we shall triumph tonight?"
+
+"Of course we shall, sir," Tom responded. "I have predicted,
+all along, that we'd have the road through in time, haven't I?"
+
+"And the credit is nearly all yours, Reade," admitted Mr. Newnham
+gleefully. "Nearly all yours, lad!"
+
+Honk! honk! Unable to remain long at one spot, Mr. Newnham started
+his car again.
+
+Reade felt a depression that he could not shake off.
+
+"It's just the reaction following the long train," Tom tried to
+tell himself. "Whew! Until within the last two or three days
+I haven't half realized how much the strain was taking out of
+me! I'll wager I'll sleep, tonight, after I once have the satisfaction
+of seeing the first train roll in!"
+
+By six o'clock Tom felt as though he could hardly stand up. Be
+wondered if his teeth were really chattering, or whether he merely
+imagined it.
+
+To take up his time Tom tried a brisk canter, away from the railroad.
+At seven o'clock he rode into Lineville.
+
+"Tom, Tom!", bawled Harry, from the centre of a group of workmen.
+"We've been looking for you! Come here quickly!"
+
+Tom urged his pony forward to the station from which Hazelton had
+called him.
+
+"Watch this---just watch it!" begged Harry.
+
+Clank! clank! clank! Tom Reade, gazing in fascination, saw
+the last spike of the last rail being driven into place.
+
+"Two sidetracks and switches already up!" called Harry.
+
+Tom threw his bridle to one of the workmen, then sprang from his
+horse. Out of the station came Mr. Newnham, waving a telegram.
+
+"Our first train, with passengers, has just left the station at
+Brand's Ranch junction, a hundred and ten miles away," shouted
+the president of the road. "The train should be here long before
+ten o'clock."
+
+From the crowd a cheer greeted the announcement.
+
+"There's nothing left but to wait to win," continued Mr. Newnham.
+
+Five hundred voices in the crowd cheered the announcement. A
+group of five Denver politicians smiled sardonically.
+
+Tom pushed his way gently through the crowd, glancing inside the
+station. There was no one there, save an operator. Closing the
+door behind him, Tom crossed to a seat and sank wearily upon it.
+
+Here he sat for some minutes, to be discovered by the telegraph
+operator when the latter came out to light the lamps in the waiting
+room.
+
+"Mr. Reade is all in, I guess," thought the operator. "I don't
+wonder. I hope he goes to sleep where he sits."
+
+Ten minutes later the receiver of one of the up the terminal station.
+The operator broke in, sending back his response. Then a telegram
+came, which he penned on paper.
+
+"Mr. Reade," called the operator, "this is for you."
+
+Tom sat up, brushing his eyes, and read:
+
+"If you can spare time wish you would ride down track to point
+about two miles west of Miller's where brook crosses under roadbed.
+Have something to show you that will interest you. Nothing serious,
+but will fill you with wonder. My men all along line report all
+safe and going well. Come at once." (signed) "Dave Fulsbee."
+
+Tom's first instinct was to start and tremble. He felt sure that
+Fulsbee had bad news and was trying to conceal the fact until
+he could see the young chief engineer in person.
+
+"But that's really not Dave's way," Reade told himself in the
+next breath. "Fulsbee talks straight out from the shoulder.
+What has he to show me, I wonder! Gracious, how tired I am!
+If Fulsbee knew just how I feel at this moment he wouldn't send
+for me. But of course he doesn't know."
+
+Stepping outside, Tom looked about, espying his pony standing
+where it had been tied to one of the porch pillars of the station.
+
+"I'll get Harry to ride with me," Reade thought, but he found
+his chum engaged in testing a stretch of rails near the station,
+a dozen of the college students with him.
+
+"Pshaw! I'm strong enough to ride five miles alone," muttered
+Tom. "Thank goodness my horse hasn't been used up. Never mind,
+Tom Reade. To-morrow you can ride as far as you like on the railroad,
+with never a penny of fare to pay, either!"
+
+Unnoticed, the young chief engineer untied his horse in the dark,
+mounted and rode away.
+
+How dark and long the way seemed. Truth to tell, Tom Reade was
+very close to the collapse that seemed bound to follow the reaction
+once his big task was safely over. Only his strength of will
+sustained him. He gripped the pony's sides with his knees.
+
+"I wouldn't want anyone to see me riding in this fashion!" muttered
+the lad. "I must look worse than a tenderfoot. Why, I'll be
+really glad if Dave Fulsbee can ride back with me. I had no idea
+he was so near. I believed him to be at least fifty or sixty
+miles down the line."
+
+Tom was nearing the place appointed when a sudden whistle rang
+out from the brush beside the track.
+
+Then half a dozen men leaped out into view in the darkness, two
+of them seizing the bridle of his horse.
+
+"Good evening, Reade!" called the mocking voice of 'Gene Black.
+"Down this way to see your first train go through? Stay with
+us, and we'll show you how it doesn't get through---not tonight!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+"CAN YOUR ROAD SAVE ITS CHARTER NOW?"
+
+
+"Oh, I guess the train will go through, all right," replied Tom
+Reade, with much more confidence expressed in his tone than he
+really felt.
+
+"Stay with us and see it go through," mocked 'Gene Black.
+
+"If it's just the same to you I'd rather ride on," Tom proposed.
+
+"But it isn't all the same to us," Black chuckled.
+
+"Then I guess I prefer to ride on, anyway."
+
+"You won't, though," snapped Black. "You'll get off that horse
+and do as we tell you."
+
+"Eh?" demanded the young chief engineer. He appeared astonished,
+though he was not.
+
+"You came down the line to meet your railroad detective, Fulsbee,"
+Black continued sneeringly. "You'd better give it up."
+
+"You seem to think you know a good deal about my business," Tom
+continued.
+
+"I know all about the telegram," 'Gene retorted. "I sent it---or
+ordered it sent."
+
+Tom started in earnest this time.
+
+"Did you ever hear of ways of cutting out a telegraph wire and
+then attaching one of the cut ends to a box relay?" queried the
+scoundrel.
+
+"I---I believe I have heard of some such thing," Reade hesitated.
+"Was that the trick you played on me?"
+
+"Yes," nodded Gene Black. "We cut the wire just below here.
+We've got a box relay on the wire going both ways. Your operators
+can't use the wire much tonight. Your company can't use it from
+Lineville at all."
+
+Tom's face showed his dismay. 'Gene Black laughed in intense
+enjoyment.
+
+"So you cut the wire, oh, and attached box relays?"
+
+"Surely," Black nodded.
+
+"I'm glad you confess it," replied Tom slowly. "Cutting telegraph
+wires, or attaching box relays without proper authority is a felony.
+The punishment is a term in state's prison."
+
+"Bosh!" sneered Black. "With all the political pull our crowd
+has behind it do you suppose we fear a little thing like that?"
+
+"I'll talk the crime over with Dave Fulsbee," Tom continued.
+
+"A lot of good Fulsbee will do you," jeered 'Gene. "We have him
+attended to as well as we have you."
+
+"That's a lie," Reade declared coolly.
+
+"Do you want us to show him to you?"
+
+"Yes," nodded Tom. "You'd have to show me Dave Fulsbee before
+I'd believe you."
+
+"Yank the cub off that horse!" ordered 'Gene Black harshly.
+
+Three or four men seized Reade, dragging him out of the saddle
+and throwing him to earth. Tom did not resist, for he saw other
+men standing about with revolvers in their hands. He did not
+believe that this desperate crew of worthless characters would
+hesitate long about drilling holes through him.
+
+"Take the horse, you, and ride it away," directed Black, turning
+to one of the men, who promptly mounted and rode off into the
+darkness. "Tie that cub's hands behind him," was Black's next
+order. "Now, bring him along."
+
+'Gene Black led the way back from the track and into the woods
+for a few rods. Then the party wheeled, going eastward in a line
+parallel with the track.
+
+Tom did not speak during the journey. It was not his nature to
+use words where they would be worse than wasted.
+
+After proceeding a quarter of a mile or so, Black parted the bushes
+of a dense thicket and led the way inside. At the centre the
+brush had been cleaned out, clearing a circular space about twenty
+feet in diameter and dimly lighted by a lantern placed in the
+centre of the inclosure.
+
+"A snug little place, Reade," chuckled the scoundrel, turning about
+as Reade was piloted into the retreat. "How do you like it?"
+
+"I like the place a whole lot better than the company," Tom answered
+promptly.
+
+"What's the matter with the company?" jeered Black.
+
+"A hangman would feel more at home in a crowd like this."
+
+"See here, cub! Don't you try to get funny," warned Black, his
+eyes snapping dangerously. "If you attempt any of your impudence
+here you'll soon find out who's master."
+
+"Master?" scoffed Tom, his own eyes flashing. "Black, do you
+draw any comfort from feeling that you're boss of such an outfit?
+Though I daresay that the outfit is better than its boss. However,
+you asked my opinion, and you got it. I'll give you a little
+more of my opinion, Black, and it won't cost you a cent."
+
+He looked steadily into his enemy's eyes as he continued:
+
+"Black, a good, clean dog wouldn't willingly stand by this crowd!"
+
+Thump! 'Gene Blacks clenched fist landed in Reade's face, knocking
+him down.
+
+"Thank you," murmured Reade, as he sat up.
+
+"Much obliged, are you?" jeered Black.
+
+"Yes," admitted Tom. "As far as it goes. That was a coward's
+act---to have a fellow's hands tied before daring to hit him."
+
+Black's face now turned livid with passion.
+
+"Lift the fool to his feet, if he wants to stand," ordered Black
+savagely. "He's trying to make me waste my time talking to him.
+Operator, call up Brewster's and ask if he held the train as
+ordered by wire."
+
+"Oho!" thought Tom. "So that's your trick? You have the wire
+in your control, and you're sending supposed train orders holding
+the train at a station so that it can't get through You're a worse
+scoundrel than I thought!"
+
+Off at the edge of the brush, on the inner side, a telegraph instrument
+had been set up on a barrel. From the instrument a wire ran toward
+the track.
+
+In another moment the sounder of the sender was clicking busily.
+There was a pause, then the answer came back:
+Click-click-click-clickety-click!
+
+The operator, a seedy-looking fellow over whose whole appearance
+was written the word "worthless," swung a lantern so that the light
+fell on a pad of paper before him. Pencil in hand, he took off the
+message as it came.
+
+"Come over here and read it, sir?" inquired the operator.
+
+Black crossed, bending over the sheet. Despite himself the scoundrel
+started. Then he moved so that the light should not fall across
+his face. Plainly Black was greatly disappointed. He swallowed
+hard, then strolled back to the main group, of which Tom was one.
+
+"That's the way to do business," announced 'Gene Black, with a
+chuckle. "We sent fake train orders from the top of that barrel,
+and your own railroad operator handed the orders to the conductor
+of your through train. Therefore the train is switched off on
+to the side track at Brewster's, and the engineer, under the false
+orders, is allowing his steam to cool. Now, do you believe you
+will get your train through tonight?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" yawned Tom coolly. "For you are lying. The message
+that came back over the wire from our operator at Brewster's read
+in these words: 'Showed your order to train conductor. He refused
+order, saying that it was not signed properly. Train has proceeded.'"
+
+It was an incautious speech for Tom Reade Black fairly glared into
+his eyes.
+
+"So you can pick up telegraph messages by the sounds" 'Gene demanded.
+
+"'Most anyone can who has ever worked over a telegraph key," Tom
+admitted.
+
+Now that the secret was out, Black plainly showed his anger over
+the fact that the conductor had refused train orders at Brewster's.
+"You S.B. & L. fellows have put up some trick to beat us off!" he
+declared, looking accusingly into Tom's face.
+
+"What of it?" Reade inquired. "It's our railroad, isn't it? Can't
+we do what we please with our own road?"
+
+"It won't be your road after tonight!" Black insisted, grinding
+his teeth in his rage. "Fortunately, we have other ways of stopping
+that train from getting through. You'll soon know it, too."
+
+Black called to the tramp operator.
+
+"My man, call up the box relay fellow below here."
+
+The sounder clicked busily for some moments. "I have the other
+box relay man," declared the operator.
+
+"Then send this, very carefully," Black continued hoarsely:
+"X-x-x---a-a-a---b-b-b."
+
+The operator repeated it. Black nodded. Once more the instrument
+clicked.
+
+"The other box relay man signals that he has it," nodded Black's
+present operator.
+
+"Listen! Everyone of you! Not a sound in this outfit," commanded
+'Gene Black.
+
+For fully three minutes the intense silence continued. Then Black
+turned again to the operator, saying:
+
+"Ask the other box relay man if anything has happened near him?"
+
+A minute later Black's operator reported:
+
+"He says: 'Yes; happened successfully.'"
+
+"Good!" laughed Black, a look of fierce Joy lighting up his eyes.
+"Now, Reade, I guess you'll admit yourself beaten. An electric
+spark has touched off a charge of giant powder under the roadbed.
+The rails have been blown skyward and a big hole torn out of
+the roadbed itself. Even if you had a wrecking crew at the spot
+at this moment the road couldn't be prepared for traffic inside
+of twenty-four hours. NOW, will your through train reach Lineville
+tonight? Can your road save its charter _now_?"
+
+Tom Reade's face turned deathly white.
+
+'Gene Black stood before him, gazing tauntingly into the eyes
+of the Young Chief engineer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+BLACK'S TRUMP CARD
+
+
+"You scoundrel---you unhung imitation of Satan himself!" gasped
+Reade, great beads of perspiration standing out on his face.
+
+"Oho! We're fools, are we?" sneered Black "We're people whom
+you can beat with your cheap little tricks about a different signature
+for each station on the line, are we? For that was why the conductor
+refused the false order at Brewster's. He has a code of signatures
+for train orders---a different signature to be used for messages
+at each station?"
+
+Black's keen mind had solved the reason for the conductor's refusal
+to hold his train on a siding. The conductor _had_ been supplied
+with a code list of signatures---a different one for each station
+along the line.
+
+"Now, you know," mocked Black, enjoying every line of anxiety
+written on Tom Reade's face, "that we have you knocked silly.
+You know, now, that your train can't get through by tonight---probably
+not even by tomorrow night. You realize at last---eh?---that
+you've lost your train and your charter---your railroad?"
+
+"I wasn't thinking of the train, or of the road," Tom groaned.
+"What I'm thinking of is the train, traveling at high speed,
+running into that blown-out place. The train will be ditched
+and the crew killed. A hundred and fifty passengers with them---many
+of them state officials. Oh, Black, I wouldn't dare stand in
+your shoes now! The whole state---the entire country---will unite
+in running you down. You can never hope to escape the penalty
+of your crime!"
+
+"What are you talking about?" sneered Black. "Do you think I'm
+fool enough to ditch the train? No, sir! Don't believe it.
+I'm not running my neck into a noose of that kind. A cluster
+of red lights has been spread along the track before the blow-out.
+The engineer will see the signals and pull his train up---he
+has to, by law! No one on the train will be hurt, but the train
+simply can't get through!"
+
+"Oh, if the train is safe, I don't care so much," replied Reade,
+the color slowly returning to his face. "As for getting through
+tonight, the S.B. & L. has a corps of engineers and a full staff
+in other departments. Black, you'll lose after all your trouble."
+
+"Humph!" muttered Black unbelievingly. "Your train will have
+to get through in less than three hours, Reade!"
+
+"It'll do it, somehow," smiled Tom.
+
+"Yes; your engineers will bring it through, somehow," taunted
+Black. "We have the chief of that corps with us right now."
+
+"That's all right," retorted Tom. "You're welcome to me, if I
+can be of any real comfort to you. But you forget that you haven
+it my assistant. Harry Hazelton is at large, among his own friends.
+Harry will see the train through tonight. Never worry."
+
+Click-click-click-click! sounded the machine on the barrel.
+
+"It's the division superintendent at Lineville, calling up Brewster's,"
+announced the operator.
+
+"Answer for Brewster, then," directed Black. "Let us see what the
+division super wants, anyway."
+
+More clicking followed, after which the operator explained:
+
+"Division super asks Brewster if through train has passed there."
+
+"Answer, 'Yes; twelve minutes ago,'" directed Black.
+
+The instrument clicked furiously for a few moments.
+
+"The division super keeps sending, 'Sign, sign, sign!'" explained
+the operator at the barrel. "So I've kept on signing 'Br,' 'Br,'
+over and over again. That's the proper signature for Brewster's."
+
+Again the machine clicked noisily.
+
+"Still insisting on the signature," grinned the operator uneasily.
+
+"Do you know the name of the operator at Brewster's?" demanded
+'Gene Black.
+
+"Yes," nodded the man at the barrel. "The operator at Brewster's
+is a chap named Havens."
+
+"Then send the signature, 'Havens, operator, Brewster's," ordered Black.
+
+Still the machine clicked insistently.
+
+"Super still yells for my signature," explained the man at the
+barrel desk. "He demands to know whether I'm really the operator
+at Brewster's, or whether I've broken in on the wire at some other
+point."
+
+"Don't answer the division super any further, then," snorted Black
+disgustedly.
+
+Tom, with his ability to read messages, was enjoying the whole
+situation until Black, with a sudden flash of his eyes, turned upon
+the cub chief engineer.
+
+"Reade," he hissed, "you must know the proper signature for tonight
+for the operator at Brewster's to use."
+
+"Nothing doing," grunted Tom.
+
+"Give us that signature the right one for Brewster's."
+
+"Nothing doing," Tom repeated.
+
+"Put a pistol muzzle to his ear and see his memory brighten,"
+snarled the scoundrel.
+
+One of the hard-looking men behind Tom obeyed. Reade, it must
+be confessed, shivered slightly when he felt the cold touch of
+steel behind his ear.
+
+"Give us the proper signature!" insisted 'Gene.
+
+"Nothing doing," Tom insisted.
+
+"Give us the right signature, or take the consequences!"
+
+"I can't give it to you," Tom replied steadily. "I don't know
+the signature."
+
+"You lie!"
+
+"Thank you."
+
+Tom had gotten his drawl back.
+
+"Do you want to have the trigger of that pistol pulled?" cried
+'Gene Black hoarsely.
+
+"I certainly don't," Tom confessed. "Neither do I doubt that
+you fellows are scoundrels enough to do such a trick. However,
+I can't help you, even though I have to lose my life for my ignorance.
+I honestly don't know the right signature for Brewster's tonight.
+That information doesn't belong to the engineering department,
+anyway."
+
+"Shall I pull the trigger, Black?" asked the man who held the
+weapon to Reade's head.
+
+"Yes; if he doesn't soon come to his senses," snarled Black.
+
+"I've already told you," persisted Tom, "that I couldn't give
+you the proper signature, even if I wanted to---which I don't."
+
+"You may be glad to talk before we're through with you tonight,"
+threatened Black. "The time for trifling is past. Either give
+us that signature or else prepare to take the consequences. For
+the last time, are you going to answer my question?"
+
+"I've told you the truth," Reade insisted. "If you won't believe
+me, then there is nothing more to be said."
+
+"You lie, if you insist that you don't know the signatures for
+tonight!" cried Black savagely.
+
+"All right, then," sighed Tom. "I can't tell you what I don't know."
+
+From off in the distance came the shrill too-oo-oot! of a locomotive.
+Tom Reade heard, and, despite his fears for his safety, an exclamation
+of joy escaped him.
+
+"Oh, you needn't build any false hopes," sneered Black. "That
+whistle doesn't come from the through train. It's one of the
+locomotives that the S.B. & L. had delivered over the D.V. & S.,
+which makes a junction with your road at Lineville. A locomotive
+or a train at the Lineville end won't help your crowd any. That
+isn't the through train required by the charter. The S.B. & L.
+loses the game, just the same."
+
+"Oh, I don't know," Tom argued. "The S.B. & L. road was finished
+within charter time. No railroad can get a train through if the
+opposition sends out men to dynamite the tracks."
+
+"Humph!" jeered Black maliciously. "That dynamited roadbed won't
+save your crowd. The opposition can make it plain enough that
+your crowd dynamited its own roadbed through a well-founded fear
+that the tracks clear through weren't strong enough to stand the
+passing of a train. Don't be afraid, Reader the enemies of your
+road will know how to explain the dynamiting this side of Brewster's."
+
+"That's a question for tomorrow, Black," rejoined Tom Reade.
+"No man can ever tell, today, what tomorrow will bring forth."
+
+Too-oo-oot! sounded a locomotive whistle again. One of the men
+in the thicket threw himself to the ground, pressing his ear to
+the earth.
+
+"There's a train, or a locomotive, at least, coming this way from
+Lineville, boss," reported the fellow.
+
+"A train?" gasped Black. Then his face cleared. "Oh, well, even
+if it's a fully equipped wrecking train, it can't get the road
+mended in time to bring the through train in before midnight,
+as the charter demands."
+
+Now the train from Lineville came closer, and the whirr of its
+approach was audible along the steel rails. The engine's bell
+was clanging steadily, too, after the manner of the engines of
+"specials."
+
+'Gene Black crowded to the outer edge of the thicket, peering
+through intently. The bright headlight of an approaching locomotive
+soon penetrated this part of the forest. Then the train rolled
+swiftly by.
+
+"Humph!" muttered Black. "Only an engine, a baggage car and one
+day coach. That kind of train can't carry much in the way of
+relief."
+
+As the train passed out of sight the engine sent back a screeching
+whistle.
+
+"The engineer is laughing at you, Black," jeered Tom.
+
+"Let him," sneered the other. "I have the good fortune to know
+where the laugh belongs."
+
+Toot! toot! too-oot-oot! Something else was coming down the track
+from Lineville. Then it passed the beholders in the thicket---a full
+train of engine and seven cars.
+
+"Good old Harry Hazelton!" glowed Tom Reade. "I'll wager that
+was Harry's thought---a pilot ahead, and then the real train!"
+
+"Small good it will do," laughed 'Gene Black disagreeably.
+
+Then, a new thought striking him, he added:
+
+"Bill Hoskins, you and some of the men get the dynamite under
+the track opposite here. You know how to do it! Hustle!"
+
+"You bet I know how," growled Bill eagerly, as he stepped forward,
+picking out the fellows he wanted as his helpers. "I'll have
+the blast against the roadbed here ready in five minutes, Black."
+
+"Now, you'll have three trains stalled along the line tonight,
+Cub Reade," laughed Black sneeringly. "Getting any train as
+far as this won't count for a copper's worth! Your road has
+to get a through train all the way into Lineville before midnight.
+We'll blow out the roadbed here, and then where are you?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+
+At these words even the brief hope that had been in Tom Reade's
+mind, died out.
+
+With the roadbed gone at this point also, he did not see the slightest
+chance for the S.B. & L. to save its charter or its property rights.
+
+"Here's the racketty stuff," went on Hoskins, indicating the boxes.
+"That small box has the fuses. Get the stuff along, and I'll lay
+the magneto wire."
+
+"Not quite so hastily!" sternly broke in a new voice.
+
+Tom Reade fairly yelled for joy, for the new speaker, as he knew
+at the first sound, was Dave Fulsbee.
+
+The amazed and dismayed scoundrels huddled closer together for a
+moment in the middle of the thicket.
+
+"Spread, men! Don't let one of 'em get out alive!" sounded Dave
+Fulsbee's voice.
+
+The scurrying steps of Fulsbee's men could be heard apparently
+surrounding the thicket.
+
+With an exclamation of rage, Black made a dash for freedom.
+
+"Stand where you are, Black, if you want to live!" warned Dave.
+"No use to make a kick you rascals! We've got you covered, and
+the first man who makes a move will eat his breakfast in another
+world. Now, listen to me. One at a time you fellows step up
+to me, drop your weapons on the ground, where I can see you do
+it, and then come out here, one at a time. No tricks---for, remember,
+you are covered by my men out here. We don't want to shoot the
+whole lot of you up unless we have to, but we won't stand for
+any fooling. Reade, you come through first. Any man who offers
+to hinder Mr. Reade will be sorry he took the trouble---that's
+all!"
+
+His heart bounding with joy, Tom stepped through the thicket,
+going straight toward the sound of Fulsbee's voice.
+
+"I've got a knife in my left hand," announced Fulsbee, as Tom
+neared him in the dark. "Turn around so that I can cut the cords
+at your wrists."
+
+In a moment this was done.
+
+"You might stay here and help me," whispered Dave. Tom nodded.
+
+"Now, Black, you can be the first," called Dave in a brisk, business-like
+tone. "Step up here and drop your weapons on the ground."
+
+Wincing under a bitter sense of defeat, 'Gene Black stepped forward.
+He was not really a coward, but he valued his life, little as
+it was actually worth. So he dropped a revolver to the ground.
+
+"What I have to say to you, Black, applies to the others," Dave
+continued from outside the thicket. "If any man among you doesn't
+drop all his weapons, we'll make it lively for him when we get
+him out here."
+
+A look of malignant hate crossed his face, then 'Gene Black dropped
+also a knife to the ground.
+
+"Come on out, Black," directed Dave Fulsbee. "Mr. Reade, will
+you oblige me by running your hands over the fellow's clothing
+to see if he, has any more weapons."
+
+Tom promptly complied. A hasty search revealed no other weapons.
+
+"Now, step right along over there, Black, where you'll find two
+of my men," nodded Dave Fulsbee.
+
+Again Black obeyed. He saw, dimly, two men some yards further
+away in the darkness and joined them.
+
+Click-click! Then the scoundrel cried out in the bitterness of
+his rage, for the two railway detectives had handcuffed him.
+
+"You, with the black hair, next," summoned Fulsbee, his vision
+aided by the lantern in the centre of the thicket. "You come
+here, but first stop and drop your weapons on the pile---all the
+trouble-makers you happen to have."
+
+Thus they came, one at a time, the operator being the last of
+all. The crowd of prisoners under guard of the two railway detectives
+grew steadily, and each was handcuffed as he reached the detectives
+after having been searched by Tom Reade.
+
+"Good job," nodded Dave coolly, as he am approached the captives.
+"Now, we have you all under lock and key. My, but you're a
+pretty-looking outfit!"
+
+"Come on, men. March 'em up the track. Then we'll come back,
+or send someone else after the dynamite and other stuff. That'll
+be handy as evidence."
+
+Guarded by Fulsbee and his two detectives, the prisoners marched
+along a few rods.
+
+"Mr. Reade," called Dave, pointing, "you'll find your horse tied
+to that tree yonder. I reckon you'll be glad to get in saddle
+again."
+
+Indeed, Tom was glad. He ran over, untying the animal, which
+uttered a whinny of recognition. In saddle, Tom joined the marching
+party.
+
+"You don't seem to think us a very hard crowd to guard," remarked
+'Gene Black curiously. "Why don't you call off the men you posted
+around the thickets"
+
+"I didn't post any," Fulsbee answered simply. "I sent these two
+men of mine running around the thicket. Then they had to come
+together and attend to handcuffing you fellows."
+
+"And were you the only man who had the drop on us?" gasped 'Gene
+Black.
+
+"I was," Dave Fulsbee responded. "If you fellows hadn't had such
+bad nerves, you could have escaped. But it's an old story. When
+men go bad their nerves go bad with them."
+
+As for Black's followers, now that they knew the nature of the
+trick that had fooled them, several of them hung back.
+
+"You fellows needn't think you can balk now," observed Fulsbee
+grimly. "You're all of you handcuffed, and there are enough of
+us to handle you. I promise you that, if anyone of you tries
+to run away, I won't run after him until I've first tried dropping
+him with a shot."
+
+So the party proceeded, and in time reached Lineville. There
+was great excitement in that little junction town when the citizens
+first heard of the dastardly work that the prisoners had attempted.
+
+Dave marched his captives into the waiting room of the station.
+All outsiders were ushered forth politely. Mr. Newnham was hurriedly
+summoned, and to him Tom Reade disclosed what he had learned of
+the work of enemies along the line. Naturally the president of
+the S.B. & L. was greatly excited.
+
+"We knew something was wrong, from the nature of the telegraph
+messages that came in," cried Mr. Newnham. "It was your friend,
+Hazelton, who first suggested the idea of sending a full train
+down the line, with a short pilot train ahead."
+
+"Good, great old Harry!" murmured Tom admiringly.
+
+Both Fulsbee and the president of the road tried to question 'Gene
+Black. That treacherous fellow, however, steadfastly refused
+to talk. Two or three of his gang were willing enough to talk,
+but they knew little, as Black had carried all his plans and schemes
+in his own head.
+
+"No matter!" muttered Dave Fulsbee. "My two men and I were close
+to that thicket for some time before we broke in on the affair.
+We heard enough to supply all the evidence that the courts will
+want against these worthies."
+
+As the futile questioning was drawing to a close, 'Gene Black
+suddenly roused himself to say sneeringly:
+
+"Gentlemen, look at your station clock. It's fifteen minutes
+before midnight. A quarter of an hour left! Where's your through
+train? If it reaches here fifteen minutes from now it will be
+too late."
+
+"Send a message down the line quickly," gasped Mr. Newnham, turning
+pale. Then he wheeled savagely upon the prisoner, exclaiming:
+"I forgot, Black. You rascals cut the wires. We could have
+mended them at the nearer point, but the wires were cut, too,
+at the scene of the blow-out. Oh, but you have been a thorn in
+our sides!"
+
+From the crowd that still lingered outside came a cheer. Tom
+Reade sprang to the nearest door, throwing it open.
+
+"Listen!" he shouted.
+
+The sound that had started the crowd to cheering was repeated
+again.
+
+_Too-oo-oo-oot_!
+
+"It's the train!" cried Reade joyously. "It can't be more than
+two or three miles below here, either. It will get through on
+time!"
+
+With nine minutes to spare, the train rolled into the station
+at Lineville. It was not the same train that had left Stormburg,
+for that train had been halted, safely, just before reaching the
+scene of the disastrous blow-out. At that point the passengers
+had alighted and had been conducted on foot to the other side
+of the gap caused by the explosion. Here Hazelton's Lineville
+special stood ready to convey them into Lineville. So the road
+had been legally opened, since the passengers from Stormburg---among
+whom was the lieutenant governor of the state had been brought
+all the way through over the line. Within the meaning of the
+law a through train had been operated over the new line, and within
+charter time.
+
+The S.B. & L. had won! It had saved its charter. On the morrow,
+in Wall Street, the value of the road's stock jumped by some millions
+of dollars.
+
+Let us not forget the pilot train. That returned to Lineville
+in the rear of the passenger train. Though the pilot train had
+a conductor, Harry Hazelton was in real charge.
+
+"Look whom we have here, Tom!" called Harry from the open side
+door of the baggage car, as Reade raced up to greet his successful
+chum.
+
+A man, bandaged, injured and groaning, lay on the floor of the
+baggage car.
+
+"Why, it's Naughty Peter, himself!" cried Tom. "Peter, I'm sorry
+to find you in this shape. I am afraid you have been misbehaving."
+
+"We found him not far from the track, near the blow-out," Hazelton
+explained. "Whether he attended to that bit of bad work all alone,
+or whether his companions believed him dead and fled for their
+own safety, I can't learn. Bad Pete won't say a word. He was
+unconscious when we first discovered him. Now he knows what's
+going on around him, but he's too badly hurt to do more than hold
+his tongue."
+
+It was only when Bad Pete recovered his health---in jail---and
+found himself facing a long term in prison, that he was ready
+to open his mouth. He could tell nothing, however, beyond confessing
+that he and three other men, including an operator, had attended
+to the blow-out. Pete had no knowledge of the real parties behind
+the plot. He knew only that he had acted under 'Gene Blanks orders.
+So Bad Pete was shown no mercy, but sent behind the bars for
+a term of twenty-five years. Owing to Black's stubborn silence
+the outrages were never traced back to any official of the W.C.
+& A.
+
+'Gene Black was sentenced to prison for thirty years. The other
+rascals, who had worked under his direction, all received long
+terms.
+
+The student engineers, wholly happy and well paid, returned to
+their college.
+
+The S.B. & L. is still under the same management, and is one of
+the prosperous independent railroads of the United States. Dave
+Fulsbee continues as the head of its detective system.
+
+Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton had made good in their first professional
+undertaking. They were paid in proportion to their services, and
+given the opportunity to retain their positions at the head of the
+railway's engineering corps.
+
+For some time they kept their positions, filling them always with
+honor. Yet, in the end, the desire to do other great things in
+their chosen profession led them into other fields of venture.
+Their greatest adventures, their severest trials and deepest
+problems, as well as their gravest perils were still ahead of them
+in their path of duty.
+
+The Young Engineers were bound to go on and up, yet their way
+was sure to be a stormy one.
+
+We shall meet these fine young Americans again in the next volume
+of this series, which is published under the title, "The Young
+Engineers in Arizona; Or, Laying Tracks on the Man-killer Quicksand."
+It is a rousing narrative of real people and real happenings.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN COLORADO***
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