diff options
Diffstat (limited to '12734-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 12734-0.txt | 7044 |
1 files changed, 7044 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/12734-0.txt b/12734-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cdf34f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/12734-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7044 @@ +*** 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 *** |