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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:19 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:19 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14369-0.txt b/14369-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5ca84f --- /dev/null +++ b/14369-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6650 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14369 *** + +The Young Engineers on the Gulf +or +The Dread Mystery of the Million Dollar Breakwater + +By H. Irving Hancock + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTERS + I. The Mystery of a Black Night + II. The Call of One in Trouble + III. Vanishing into Thin Air + IV. Some One Calls Again + V. Wanted---Daylight and Divers + VI. Mr. Bascomb is Peevish + VII. Tom Isn't as Easy as He Looks + VIII. Mr. Prenter Investigates + IX. Invited To Leave Camp + X. The Night is Not Over + XI. A Message from a Coward + XII. An Engineer's Fighting Blood + XIII. Wishing It on Mr. Sambo + XIV. The Black Man's Turn + XV. A David for a Goliath + XVI. A Test of Real Nerve + XVII. Tom Makes an Unexpected Capture +XVIII. The Army "On the Job" + XIX. A New Mystery Peeps In + XX. A Secret in Sight + XXI. Evarts Hears a Noise + XXII. Mr. Bascomb Hears Bad News +XXIII. Ebony Says "Thumbs Up" + XXIV. Conclusion + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE MYSTERY OF A BLACK NIGHT + + +"I wish I had brought my electric flash out here with me," muttered Harry +Hazelton uneasily. + +"I told you that you'd better do it," chuckled Tom Reade. + +"But how could I know that the night would be pitch dark?" Harry demanded. +"I don't know this gulf weather yet, and fifteen minutes ago the stars were +out in full force. Now look at them!" + +"How can I look at them?" demanded Tom, halting. "My flashlight won't +pierce the clouds." + +Reade halted on his dark, dangerous footway, and Harry, just behind him, +uttered a sigh of relief and halted also. + +"I never was in such a place as this before." + +"You've been in many a worse place, though," rejoined Tom. "I never heard +you make half as much fuss, either." + +"I think something must be wrong with my head," ventured Harry. + +"Undoubtedly," Tom Reade agreed cheerily. + +"Hear that water," Harry went on, in a voice scarcely less disconsolate +than before. + +"Of course," nodded Tom. "But the water can hardly be termed a surprise. +We both knew that the Gulf of Mexico is here. We saw it several times +to-day." + +The two young men stood on a narrow ledge of stone that jutted out of the +water. This wall of stone was the first, outer or retaining wall of +masonry---the first work of constructing a great breakwater. At high tide, +this ledge was just fourteen inches above the level surface of the Gulf of +Mexico, and at the time of the above conversation it was within twenty +minutes of high tide. The top of this wall of masonry was thirty inches +wide, which made but a narrow footway for the two youths who, on a pitch +black night, were more than half a mile out from shore. + +On a pleasant night, for a young man with a steady head, the top of this +breakwater wall did not offer a troublesome footpath. In broad daylight +hundreds of laborers and masons swarmed over it, working side by side, or +on scows and dredges alongside. + +"Wait, and I'll show a light," volunteered Tom raising his foot-long +flashlight. + +Some seventy-five yards behind them a crawling snake-like figure flattened +itself out on the top of the rock wall. + +"Don't show the light just yet," pleaded Harry. "It might only make me +more dizzy." + +The flattened figure behind them wriggled noiselessly along. + +"Just listen to the water," continued Hazelton. "Tom, I'm half-inclined to +think that the water is roughening." + +"I believe it is," agreed Tom. + +"Fine time we'll have getting back, if a gale springs up from the +southward," muttered Harry. + +"See here, old fellow," interposed Tom vigorously, "you're not up to +concert pitch to-night. Now, I'll tell you what I'll do---first of all, +what _you'll_ do. You sit right down flat on the top of the wall. Then +I'll move on up forward and see what has been happening out there that +should boom shoreward with such a racket. You stay right here, and I'll +be back as soon as I've looked into the face of the mystery." + +"What do you take me for?" Harry asked almost fiercely. "A baby? Or a +cold-foot?" + +"Nothing like it," answered Tom Reade with reassuring positiveness. +"You're out of sorts, to-night. Your head, or your nerves, or some thing, +has gone back on you, and you walk through this blackness with half a +notion that you're going to walk over a precipice, or drop head-first into +some danger. With such a feeling it would be cruelty to let you go +forward, chum, and I'm not going to do it. I'll go alone." + +The crouching figure to the rear of the young engineers quivered as though +this separation of the two engineers on this black night was a thing +devoutly to be desired. + +"You're not going to do anything of the sort," retorted Harry Hazelton. +"I'm going forward with you. I'm going to stick to you. All I wanted was +a minute in which to brace myself. I've had that minute. Now get forward +with you. I'm on your heels!" + +Tom Reade shrugged his shoulders slightly. However, he did not object or +argue, for he realized that his chum was sensitive over any circumstance +that seemed to point to sudden failure of his courage. + +"Come along, then," urged Tom. "Wait just a second, though. I'll flash +the light ahead along the wall, to show you that it's all there, and just +where it lies." + +A narrow beam of light shot ahead as Tom pressed the spring of his pocket +flash lamp. + +A weird enough scene the night betrayed. In perspective the wall ahead +narrowed, until the two sides seemed to come to a point. Back of all was +the thick curtain of black that had settled down over the gulf. A little +farther out, too, the water seemed rougher. There would seem to be hardly +a doubt that a gale was brewing. + +"Shut that light off!" Hazelton commanded, fighting to repress a shudder. +"I can do better in the darkness. Now, go ahead, and I'll follow." + +Tom started, but he went slowly now, feeling that this pace was more suited +to the condition of his chum's nerves. Harry followed resolutely, though +none but himself knew how much effort it took for him to keep on in the +face of such a nameless yet terrible dread as now assailed him. + +To the rear a bulky, hulking figure rose and stood erect. With the softest +of steps this apparition of the night followed after them, until it stole +along, ghost-like, just behind Hazelton. Then a huge arm was raised, +threateningly, over Harry's head. + +At that particular moment, as though insensibly warned, Hazelton stopped, +half-wheeling. In the next second Harry bounded back just out of reach of +the descending arm, the hand of which held something. But in that backward +spring Harry, in order to save himself from pitching into the water, was +oblige to turn toward Reade. + +"Tom!" exploded the young engineer. "Flash the light here quickly!" + +In the instant, however, that Harry had sprung backward the figure had +slipped noiselessly into the water to the left. As Reade wheeled about, +throwing on the light, he let the ray fall in the water to the right of the +wall. But no sign of the intruder appeared; the water had closed +noiselessly over the now vanished figure. + +"What's the matter?" asked Reade, as he stood looking, then finally flashed +his light over to the other side of the wall. + +"I saw---" began Hazelton. Then changed to: "I thought---er---I +saw---oh, nonsense! You'll josh the life out of me!" + +"Not I," Tom affirmed gravely, as a thrill of pity, for what he deemed his +friend's unfortunate "nervous condition," shook him. "Tell me what you +saw, Harry." + +"Why, I thought I saw a big fellow---a black man, too---right behind me, +arm upraised, just ready to strike me." + +"Well, where is he?" Tom demanded blankly, flashing the light on either +side of the narrow wall-top. "See him anywhere now, chum?" + +Harry didn't. In fact, he hardly more than pretended to look. The thing +that had been so real a moment before was now utterly invisible. Hazelton +began to share his chum's suspicion as to the utter breakdown of his nerves +and powers of vision. + +"It was nothing, of course," said Harry, shamefacedly, but Tom vigorously +took the other side of the question. + +"See here, Harry, it must have been something," insisted Reade. "You're +not dreaming, and you're not crazy. It would take either one of those +conditions to make you see something that didn't really exist. No mere +nervous tremor is going to make you see something as tall as a man, +standing right over you, when no such thing exists." + +"Well, then, where is the fellow?" Harry Hazelton demanded, helplessly, as +he stared about. "There isn't any human being but ourselves in sight, +either on the wall or in the water. Your light shows that." + +The light did not quite show that, and could not, since the huge prowler +was now swimming gently under water, some seven or eight feet from the +surface. + +"We'll have to solve the question before we leave here," declared Tom. +"We can't have folks following us up in a ticklish place like this. +Besides, Harry, I'm willing to wager that your vision---whatever it +was---has some real connection with the mystery that we're going out +yonder to investigate. So we'll solve the puzzle that's right here before +we go forward to look at the bigger riddle that the dark now hides from us +out yonder. Use your eyes, lad, an I'll do the same with mine!" + +Neither Tom Reade nor Harry Hazelton are strangers to the readers of this +series, nor of the series that have preceded the present one. + +Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, now engineers in charge of a big breakwater +job on the Alabama gulf coast, were first introduced to our readers in the +"_Grammar School Boys Series_." There we met them as members of that +immortal band of American schoolboys known as Dick & Co. Back in the old +school days Dick Prescott had been the leader of Dick & Co., though, as all +our readers know, Prescott was not the sole genius of Dick & Co. Greg +Holmes, Dave Darrin, Dan Dalzell and Tom and Harry had been the other +members of that famous sextette of schoolboy athletes. + +After reading of the doings of Dick & Co. in the "_Grammar School Boys +Series_," our readers again followed them, through the events recorded in +the four volumes of the "_High School Boys Series_". Here their really +brilliant work Boys Series athletes was stirringly chronicled, as along +with scores of non-athletic adventures that befell them. + +At the close of the high school course Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes +secured appointments as cadets at the United States Military Academy at +West Point. All that befell them there is duly set forth in the "_West +Point Series_." Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell were fortunate enough to +secure appointments as midshipmen in the United States Naval Academy at +Annapolis, and their doings there are set forth in the "_Annapolis +Series_." + +Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, on the other hand, had felt no call to +military glory. For their work in life they longed to become part of the +great constructive force wielded by modern civil engineers. During the +latter part of their high school work they had studied hard with ambition +to become surveyors and civil engineers. In their school vacations they +had sought training and experience in the offices of an engineering firm +in their home town of Gridley. After being graduated from the Gridley High +School, Tom and Harry had done more work in the same offices. Then, in a +sudden desire for advancement, and possessed by the longing for a wider +field of endeavor, Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton had secured positions as +"cub engineers" on the construction work that was being done to rush a new +railway, system over the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. The stern, hard work +that lay before them, the many adventures in a rough wilderness, and the +chain of circumstances that at last placed Tom Reade in charge of the +railroad building, with Harry as first assistant engineer, are all told in +the first volume of this present series, "_The Young Engineers In +Colorado_." + +That great feat finished satisfactorily, the ambition of our young +engineers led them further afield, as told in "_The Young Engineers in +Arizona_." A great, man-killing quicksand had to be filled in and +effectively stopped from shifting. Reade & Hazelton undertook the task. +Incidentally Tom came into serious, dangerous conflict with gamblers and +other human birds-of-prey, who had heretofore fattened on the earnings of +the railway laborers. It was a tremendously exciting time that the young +engineers had in Arizona, but they at last got away with their lives and +were at the same time immensely successful in their undertaking. + +In "_The Young Engineers In Nevada_" we found our young friends under +changed conditions. While at work in Colorado and in Arizona Tom and +Harry had studied the occurrence of precious ores, and also the methods +of assaying and extracting ores. Having their time wholly to themselves +after finishing in Arizona the dauntless young pair went to Nevada, there +to study mining at first hand. In time they located a mining claim, though +there were other claimants, and around this latter fact hung an extremely +exciting story. Both young engineers nearly lost their lives in Nevada, +and met with many strenuous situations. Their sole idea in pushing their +mine forward to success was that the money so earned would enable them to +further their greatest ambition; they longed to have their own engineering +offices. In the end, their mine, which the young engineers had named "The +Ambition," proved a success. Thereupon they left their mining partner, Jim +Ferrers, in charge and went east to open their offices. + +We next found the young engineers engaged to the south of the United States +border. These adventures were fully set forth in the preceding volume in +this series, entitled "_The Young Engineers in Mexico_." Tom and Harry, +engaged to solve some problems in a great Mexican mine, found themselves +the intended tools of a pair of mine swindlers of wealth and influence. +From their first realization of the swindle Tom and Harry, even in the face +of threats of assured death, held out for an honest course. How they +struggled to save a syndicate of American investors from being swindled out +of millions of dollars was splendidly told in that fourth volume. + +And now we find our young friends down at the gulf coast town of Blixton, +Alabama. Here they are engaged in a kind of engineering work wholly unlike +any they had hitherto undertaken. The owners of the Melliston Steamship +Line, with a fleet of twenty-two freight steamships engaged in the West +Indian and Central American trade, had looked in vain for suitable dock +accommodations for their vessels, worth a total of more than six million +dollars. In their efforts to improve their service the Melliston owners +had found at Blixton a harbor that would have suited them excellently, but +for one objection. The bay at Blixton was too open to shelter vessels from +the severity of some of the winter gales. Up to the present time Blixton +had not been used for harbor purposes. But the Melliston owners had +conceived the idea that a great breakwater could be so built as to shelter +the waters of the bay. They had quietly bought up most of the shore front +of the little town, which had railway connection. Then they had searched +about for engineers capable of building the needed breakwater. Reade & +Hazelton, hearing of the project, had applied for the work. As the young +men furnished most excellent recommendations from former employers they had +finally secured the opportunity. + +By no means was the task an easy one, as will presently be shown. It was +a work that would have to be carried on in the very teeth of jealous +Nature. Tom and Harry were fully aware of the great difficulties that lay +before them. What they did not know was that they would presently have to +contend, also, with forces set loose by wicked human minds. What started +these untoward forces in operation, and how the forces worked out, will +soon be seen. + +Captain of a queer crew was Tom Reade, and Harry was his lieutenant. Of +the laborers, seven hundred in number, some four hundred were negroes; +there were also two hundred Italians and about a hundred Portuguese. Many, +of each race, were skilled masons; others were but unskilled laborers. +There were six foremen, all Americans, and a superintendent, also American. +There were a few more Americans and two or three Scotchmen, employed as +stationary engineers and in similar lines of work. + +A touch of the old Arizona trouble had invaded the camp. There had +recently been a pay-day, and gamblers had descended upon the camp of tents +and shanties. Once more Reade had driven off the gamblers, though this +time with less trouble than in Arizona. At Blixton, Tom had merely sent +for the four peace officers in the town of Blixton, and had had the +gamblers warned out of camp. They had gone, but there had been wrathful +mutterings among many of the workmen. + +The camp was a half mile back from the water's edge, on a low hillside. +Here the men of the outfit were settled. There had been mutinous +mutterings among some of the men, but so far there had been no open revolt. + +Tom, however, who had had considerable experience in such matters, looked +for some form of trouble before the smouldering excitement quieted. So did +Harry. + +On this dark night Tom had proposed that he and his chum take a stroll down +to the shore front to see whether all were well there. Soon after leaving +camp behind, the young engineers had started on a jog-trot. Just before +they reached the water's edge the wind had borne to their ears the faint +report of what must have been an explosion out over the waters of the gulf. + +"Trouble!" Tom whispered in his chum's ear. "Most likely some of the +rascals that we drove out of camp have been trying to set back our work +with dynamite. If they have done so we'll teach 'em a lesson if we can +catch them!" + +So the young engineers had started out over their narrow retaining wall. +We have seen how they had walked most of the distance when Harry had had +his sudden warning of the hostile arm uplifted over his head. + +"What could it have been?" demanded Tom in a low voice, as he continued to +cast the light from his flash lamp out over the waters on either side of +the wall. + +"It must have been my nervous imagination," admitted Harry. "Whew! But +it _did_ seem mighty real for the moment." + +"Then you're inclined, now, to believe that it was purely imagination?" +pursued Tom. + +"Ye---e---es, it must have been," assented Harry reluctantly. + +Tom made some final casts with the light. + +While they were conversing, well past the short radius of the flash lamp's +glare, a massive black head bobbed up and down with the waves. Out there +the huge negro who had swiftly vanished from the wall, and who had swum +under water for a long distance, was indolently treading water. Wholly at +home in the gulf, the man's black head blended with the darkness of the +water and the blackness of the night. + +"Oh, then," suggested Reade, "we may as well go along on our way. Plainly +there's nothing human around here to look at but ourselves." + +So they started slowly forward over the wall. Leisurely the black man swam +to the wall, taking up the dogged trail again in the darkness behind the +pair of young engineers. + +Several minutes more of cautious walking brought Tom Reade to a startled +halt. + +"Look there, Harry!" uttered Reade, stopping and throwing the light ahead. + +Out beyond them, not far from the end of the wall, some hundred feet of the +top had been torn away. For all the young engineers could see, the +foundations might have gone with the superstructure. + +"Dynamite!" Tom muttered grimly. "So this is the way our newly-found +enemies will fight us?" + +"It won't be such a big job to repair this gap," muttered Harry calmly. + +"No; but it'll take a good many dollars to pay the bills," retorted Tom. + +"Well, the expense can't be charged to us, anyway," maintained Harry. "We +didn't do this vandal's work, and we didn't authorize its being done." + +"No; but you know why it was done, Harry," Tom continued. "It was because +we drove the gamblers out of the camp, and thus made enemies for ourselves +on both sides of the camp lines." + +"Anyway, the company's officers can't blame us for trying to maintain +proper order in the camp," Hazelton insisted stoutly. + +"Not if we can stop the outrages with this one explosion, perhaps," replied +Tom thoughtfully. "Yet, if there are many more tricks like this one played +on the wall you'll find that the company's officers will be blaming us all +the way up to the skies and down again. Big corporations are all right on +enforcing morality until it hits their dividends too hard. Then you'll +find that the directors will be urging us to let gambling go on again if +the laborers insist on having it." + +"Well, we won't have gambling in the camp, anyway," Harry retorted +stubbornly. "We're simply looking after the interests of the men +themselves. I wonder why they can't see it, and act like men, not fools." + +"We're going to stop the gambling, and keep it stopped," Tom went on, his +jaws setting firmly together. "But, Harry, we're going to have a big row +on our hands, and various attempts against the company's property will be +made." + +"If the company's officers order us to let up on the gambling," proposed +Harry, "we can resign and get out of this business altogether." + +"We won't resign, and we won't knuckle down to any lot of swindlers either, +Harry!" cried Tom. "Some one is fighting us, and this wreck of a sea-wall +is the first proof. All right! If any one wants to fight us he shall find +that we know how to fight back, and that we can hit hard. Harry, from this +minute on we're after those crooks, and we'll make them realize that +there's some sting to us!" + +"Good enough!" cheered Hazelton. "I like that old-time fight talk! But +are you going to do anything to protect the wall to-night, Tom?" + +"I am," announced the young chief engineer. + +"What's the plan?" + +"Let me think," urged Reade. "Now, I believe, I have it. We'll send one +of the motor boats out here, with a foreman and four laborers. They can +arm themselves with clubs and patrol the water on both sides of the wall. +The 'Thomas Morton' has a small search-light on her that will be of use in +keeping a close eye over the wall." + +"That ought to stop the nonsense," Harry nodded. "But I don't imagine that +any further efforts to destroy the wall will be made tonight, anyway." + +"We'll have the night patrol out _every_ night after this," Tom declared. +"But I'm not so sure either, that another effort won't be made to-night, if +we don't put a watch on to stop this wicked business. Harry, do you mind +remaining out here while I run back and get the boat out?" + +"Why should I mind?" Hazelton wanted to know. + +"Well, I didn't know whether you would, or not---after seeing that +imaginary something behind you." + +"Don't laugh at me! I may have had a start, but you ought to be the first +to know, Tom, that I haven't frozen feet." + +"I do know it, Harry. You've been through too many perils to be suspected +of cowardice. Well, then, I'll run back." + +Tom Reade had really intended to leave the flash lamp with his chum, but +he forgot to do so, and, as he jogged steadily along over the wall he threw +the light ahead of him. As he got nearer shore Tom increased his jog to a +brisk run. + +Once, on the way, he passed the prowling negro without knowing it. That +huge fellow, seeing the ray of light come steadily near him, hesitated for +a few moments, then took to the water, swimming well out. After Reade had +passed, the fellow swam in toward the wall. + +Up on the wall climbed the negro. For a few minutes he crouched there, +shaking the water from his garments. Then, cautiously, he began to crawl +forward. + +"Boss Reade, he done gone in," muttered the prowler. "Boss Hazelton, Ah +reckon he's mah poultry!" + +Harry, keeping his lone vigil away out on the narrow retaining wall, was +growing sleepy. He had nearly forgotten his scare. Indeed, he was +inclined to look upon it as a trick of his own brain. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE CALL OF ONE IN TROUBLE + + +Once Tom Reade reached the solid land he let his long legs out into a brisk +run. + +With his years of practice on the Gridley High School athletic team he was +not one to lose his wind readily. + +So he made his way at the same speed all the way up to the camp. + +"Who dar?" called a negro watchman, as Tom raced up to the outskirts of +the camp. + +"Reade, chief engineer," Tom called, then wheeled and made off to the +right, where the more substantial barracks of the foremen stood. +Superintendent Renshaw lived in a two-story barrack still farther to the +right, as the guest of the young engineers. + +"_Quien vive_?" (who's there?) hailed another voice, between the two +barracks buildings. + +"So, Nicolas, you rascal, you haven't gone to bed?" demanded Tom, halting. +"What did I tell you about earlier hours?" + +Nicolas was the young Mexican servant whom Tom and Harry had brought back +with them from Mexico. Readers of the previous volume know all about this +faithful fellow. + +"You and Senor Hazelton, you waire not in bed," replied Nicolas stolidly. + +"You're not expected to stay up and watch over us as if we were babies, +Nicolas," spoke Tom, in a gentler voice. "You'd better turn in now." + +"Senor Hazelton, where is he?" insisted Nicolas, anxiously. + +"Oh, bother! Never mind where he is," Tom rejoined. "We won't either of +us be in for a little while yet. But you turn in now---at +once---instanter!" + +Then Tom bounded over to the little porch before the foremen's barracks, +where he pounded lustily on the door. + +"Who's there? What's wanted?" demanded a sleepy voice from the inside. + +"Is that you, Evarts?" called Reade. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Get on your duds and turn out as quickly as you can." + +"You want me?" yawned Evarts. + +"Now, see here, my man, if I didn't want you why on earth would I call you +out in the middle of the night?" + +"It's late," complained Evarts. + +"I know it. That's why I want you to get behind yourself and push +yourself," retorted the young chief engineer energetically. "Hustle!" + +Twice, while he waited impatiently, Tom kicked the toe of one boot against +the door to emphasize the need of haste. Other drowsy voices remonstrated. + +"Hang a man who has to sleep _all_ the time!" grunted Tom Reade. + +After several minutes the door opened, and a lanky, loose-jointed, +lantern-jawed man of some forty-odd years stepped out. + +"Well, what's up, Mr. Reade?" questioned the foreman, hiding a yawn behind +a bony, hairy hand. + +"You are, at last, thank goodness!" Tom exclaimed. "Evarts, I want you to +rout out four good men. Lift 'em to their feet and begin to throw the +clothes on 'em!" + +"It's pretty late to call men out of their beds, sir," mildly objected the +foreman. + +"No---it's early, but it can't be helped," Tom Reade retorted. "Hustle +'em out!" + +"Black or white?" sleepily inquired Evarts. + +"White, and Americans at that," Tom retorted. "Put none but Americans +on guard tonight, Evarts! What do you suppose has happened?" + +"Can't guess." + +"No! You're still too sleepy. Evarts, some scoundrels have blown out a +good part of our wall yonder." + +"Are you joking, Mr. Reade?" + +"No, sir; I am not. Dynamite must have been used. Hazelton and I heard +the noise of the blast, but of course we got out there too late to catch +any miscreant at the job." + +Evarts, at first, was inclined to regard the news with mild disbelief, but +he soon realized that something must have happened very nearly as the young +chief engineer had described. + +"Well, what are you standing there for?" Tom demanded, impatiently. "Are +you going to wait for daylight? Get the four men out---all Americans, mind +you. _Hustle_, man!" + +Evarts started away; toward the camp over to the left of them. As he did +so Tom darted in another direction. Two minutes later Tom was back, +piloting by one arm a man who was still engaged in rubbing the sleep out of +his eyes. This was Conlon, engineer of the motor boat, "Morton." + +"Where's Evarts?" Reade queried, impatiently. "Oh, Evarts! Where are you, +and what are you doing?" + +"Trying to get four men awake," bawled back the voice of the foreman, from +the distance. "As soon as I get one man on his feet the other three have +sunk back to sleep." + +"Wait until I get over there then!" called Tom, striding forward. "Come +along, Conlon! Don't you lag on me." + +"There! Do you fellows reckon you want Mr. Reade to bump in here and shake +you out?" sounded the warning voice of Evarts. + +As Tom and the motor boat's engine tender reached the little, box-like +shack from which Evarts's tones proceeded, four men, seated on the floor, +were seen to be lacing their shoes by the dim light of a lantern. + +"A nice lot you are!" called Tom crisply. "How many hours does it take you +to get awake when you're called in the middle of the night?" + +"This overtime warn't in the agreement," sleepily retorted one of the men. + +"You're wrong there," Reade informed him, vehemently. "Overtime _is_ in +the agreement for every man in this camp when it's wanted of him---from +the chief engineer all along the line. Now, you men oblige me by hustling. +I don't want to wait more than sixty seconds for the last man of you." + +"I've a good mind to crawl back into my bunk," growled another of the men. + +"All right," retorted Tom Reade, with suspicious cheerfulness. "Try it and +see what kind of fireworks I carry concealed on my person. Or, just lag a +little bit on me, and you'll see the same thing. Men, do you realize that +there's foul play afoot out on the retaining wall? We've got to go out +there in time to stop anything more happening. Now, you've got your shoes +on; grab the rest of your clothing and hustle it on as we make for the +beach. Come along!" + +Tom fairly got behind the men and pushed them outside. They would have +liked to complain, but they didn't. Some of them were larger and heavier +than the chief engineer, but they knew quite well that, at sign of any +trifling mutiny to-night, Reade would thrash them all. + +"If any one is trying to blow up the wall, Mr. Reade, it's all your fault, +anyway," ventured Evarts, as the little party started at a brisk walk for +the beach. "When you've got a mixed crowd of men working for you, you +shouldn't interfere too much with their amusements. Yet you would have the +gamblers run out of camp just when our boys were getting ready to have some +pleasant evenings." + +"I'll run out any one else who attempts to bring disorderly doings into +this camp," Tom retorted quietly. + +"Then there'll be some more of your seawalls blown up," Evarts warned him +gloomily. + +"If such a thing happens again there'll be some men hurt, and some others +breaking into prison," Tom answered with spirit. "Any evildoers that try +to set themselves up in business around here will soon wish they had kept +away---that's all." + +"It's a bad business," insisted Evarts, wagging his head. "When you have +a mixed crowd of workmen---" + +"I think you've said that before," Tom broke in coolly. "To-night we're +in too much of a hurry to listen to the same thing twice. Come on, men. +You can go a little faster than a walk. Jog a bit---I'll show you how." + +"This is pretty hard on men in the middle of the night," hinted Evarts, +after the jogging had gone on for a full minute. "It ain't right to-----" + +"Stop it, Evarts!" Tom cut in crisply. "I don't mind a little grumbling +at the right time, and I often do a bit myself, but not when I'm as rushed +as I am to-night. There's the dock ahead, men---a little faster spurt +now!" + +Tom urged his men along to the dock. With no loss of time they tumbled +aboard the "Morton," a broad, somewhat shallow, forty-foot motor boat of +open construction. + +"Get up and take the wheel, Evarts," Tom. directed. "Get at work on your +spark, Conlon, and I'll throw the drive-wheel over for you. Some of you +men cast, off!" + +In a very short time the "Morton" was going "put-put-put" away from the +dock. + +Tom, after seeing that everything was moving satisfactorily, turned around +to look at the four men huddled astern. + +"Don't any of you go to sleep," he urged. "A good part of our success +depends on how well you all keep awake and use your eyes and ears." + +That said, Tom Reade hastened forward, stationing himself close to Evarts, +who had the steering wheel. + +Some of the men astern began to talk. + +"Silence, if you please," Tom called softly. "Don't talk except on matters +of business. We want to be able to use our ears. Conlon, make your engine +a little less noisy if you can." + +Now Reade had leisure to wonder how matters had gone with Harry Hazelton. + +"Of course that threatening figure Harry saw behind him was an imaginary +one," Tom said to himself, but he felt uneasy nevertheless. + +A few moments later Reade clutched at one of Evarts's arms. + +"Did you hear that, man?" the young engineer demanded. + +"Hear what?" Evarts wanted to know. + +"It sounded like a yell out there yonder," Tom rejoined. + +"Didn't hear it, Mr. Reade." + +"There it goes again!" cried Tom, leaping up. "Some one is calling my +name. It must be Harry Hazelton, and he must want help. Conlon, slam it +to that engine of yours!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +VANISHING INTO THIN AIR + + +Left by himself Harry had stood, at first, motionless, or nearly so. He +strained his hearing in trying to detect any unusual sound of the night, +since it was so dark that vision would not aid him much. + +There was nothing, however, but the mournful sighing of the wind and the +lapping of the waves. It seemed to Hazelton that the wind was growing +gradually more brisk and the waves larger, but he was not sure of that +until the water commenced splashing across his shoes. The footway on the +masonry became more slippery in consequence. + +"With these rocks well wet down I wouldn't care much about having to run +back to the land," muttered Harry, dryly. "However, I won't have to go +back on my own feet. Tom will have the boat out here, and undoubtedly he +will plan to have us both taken back to shore after we get through cruising +around here. We should have brought the boat out in the first place." + +A night bird screamed, then flapped its wings close to Harry's face in its +flight past him. The young engineer saw the moving wings for an instant; +then they vanished into the black beyond. + +Farther out some other kind of bird screamed. The whole situation was a +weird one, but Harry was no coward, though a less courageous youth would +have found the situation hard on his nerves. + +Still another night bird screamed, of some species with which Hazelton was +wholly unacquainted. The cry was answered by some sort of strange call +from the shore. + +"It's a fine thing that I'm not superstitious," laughed the young engineer +to himself, "or I'd surely feel cold chills chasing each other up and down +my spine." + +As it was, Harry shivered slightly, though not from fear. With the +increasing wind it was growing chilly out there for one who could not warm +himself with exercise. + +"It's a long time, or it seems so," muttered the young engineer presently. +"Yet I'll wager that Tom is hustling himself and others on the very jump." + +Again the call of a night bird, and once more a sound from shore seemed +to answer it. + +"Real birds?" wondered Hazelton, with a start of sudden curiosity. "Or +have I been listening to human signals? If so, the signals can't cover +any good or honest purpose." + +That train of thought set him to listening more acutely than before. Yet, +as no more calls reached his ears the attention of the young engineer soon +began to flag. + +The monotonous lapping of the waves against the stone wall, the constant +splashing of water over the rocks and the steady blowing of the wind all +tended to make the watcher feel drowsy. + +"What on earth can be keeping good old Tom?" Harry wondered, more than +once. + +It would have been well, indeed, had Harry kept his eyes turned oftener +toward the shore end of the wall. In that case he might more speedily +have detected the wriggling, snake-like movement of the big negro moving +toward him. + +With great caution the huge prowler came onward, raising his head a few +inches every now and then and listening. The black man's nostrils moved +feverishly. He was using them, as a dog would have done, to scent any +signs of alarm on the part of the human quarry that he was after. + +At last Harry Hazelton turned sharply, for his own ears were attuned to +the stillnesses of the western forests and his hearing was unusually acute. +He had just heard a sound on the wall, not far away. Instantly the young +engineer was on the alert. + +Then his eyes, piercing the darkness, made out the crawling, dark form, +which did not appear to be more than fifty feet away from him. + +For a second or two Harry stared. But he knew there could be no snake as +broad as this crawling figure appeared to be. + +"Who's there?" Hazelton called quickly. + +The writhing mass became still, flattening itself against the bed of rock. +Hazelton was not to be deceived, however. + +"Who's there?" Harry repeated. "You had better talk up, my man!" + +Still no sound. Harry started forward to investigate. His foot touched +against a good sized fragment of rock left there by one of the masons. + +Without delay Harry reached down, picking up the rock, which was rather +more than half as large as his head. + +Holding this in his right hand Harry advanced with still more confidence, +for he felt himself to be armed. Hazelton had been a clever pitcher in +his high school days and knew that he could make this fragment of rock +land pretty close to where he wanted it to go. + +"Who are you?" demanded Hazelton, once more, as he stepped cautiously +forward. "No use in your keeping silent, my man. I see you and know that +you're there. Moreover, I'm going to drag the truth out of you as to what +you're doing out here on the wall at this hour of the night---and to-night +of all nights." + +Still no answer; Harry went steadily forward, until he was within a dozen +feet of the head of the flattened brute in human guise. Hazelton could now +see every line of his adversary plainly, though he could not make out the +fellow's face. + +"You'd better get up and talk," warned Harry, poising the rock fragment +for a throw. "If you don't you'll cast all the more suspicion upon +yourself. For the last time, my man, who are you and what are you doing +here?" + +The huge black figure might have been a log for all the answer that came +forth. + +"All right, then; it's your own fault," Harry Hazelton continued calmly. +"As you won't speak I'm going to crack the nut for myself. Your head will +be the nut, and this rock I have in my hand shall be the hammer. I'm going +to slam this rock on your head with all the force I've got, and I'm a good, +straight thrower." + +Yet, though Hazelton spoke with such confidence, he was far from meaning +all he said. In the first place, he had no legal right, under the +circumstances, to go as close to murder as it might be for him to throw the +rock at the rascal's head. Moreover, Harry would hardly have exercised +such a legal right, had he possessed it, without the strongest provocation. + +From the black prowler came a sudden, fierce snort. It sounded altogether +like defiance. + +"Ho---ho! You're finding your voice, are you, my man?" Hazelton jeered. +"Then talk up in time to save yourself!" + +Instead the huge black man began to writhe forward. + +"Stop that!" ordered Harry dangerously. He did not retreat from the +writhing human thing, but he took better aim, noting that the black man was +hatless and that his head offered a fair mark. "You're going to get hurt +in just about a second more," he added. + +Uttering another snort the bulky black sprang to his feet with surprising +agility in one of his great size. + +Harry now let his right hand fall back quickly. He was poising for the +throw in earnest, for there could no longer be any doubt that the stranger +was planning a deadly assault. + +"Take it, then, since you want it!" snapped out Harry Hazelton. The +fragment of rock left his hand, propelled with force and directed with +accurate aim at the negro's face. + +But the crafty black dodged just in time, at the same instant throwing up +his hands. + +Harry gasped as he saw his unknown assailant deftly catch the rock +fragment as though it had been a base ball. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" jeered the black, in a hoarse, rumbling voice. + +He threw back his hand, gathering impetus for the cast. Hazelton could do +nothing but throw himself on the defensive, planning to duplicate the black +man's catch. + +Then the stone came---but it did not go high, instead, by a jerk of his +wrist, the negro hurled it at Harry's right foot. + +That granite-like fragment struck Hazelton's foot with full force. + +"You---you scoundrel!" groaned Harry, in an all but admiring gasp. + +Like a flash he bent over, snatching up the fragment for his own use. + +"Now, I'll slam you into the middle of the Gulf of Mexico!" cried the young +engineer, vengefully, as he tried to straighten up. + +A groan escaped him. His injured foot was paining him more than he had +expected. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" harshly jeered this mysterious, evil creature. The +black man had halted as Harry prepared to throw, but he showed no sign of +hesitation. Though he stood still, he thrust his repulsive, leering face +forward, as though to offer that face as the best mark. + +Harry found that he could not stand straight---the pain in his injured foot +was now too intense. + +"Get back with you!" ordered Harry. "Get back if you don't want a heap +worse than you gave me." + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" came the sneering laugh. Then the stranger reached out +his hands as though to seize the youth. + +"I guess I'll have to do it---though not because I really want to hurt +you!" muttered Harry ruefully. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" + +There could be no question that the unknown was merely playing with him. +Little as he liked to make the ugly throw Harry knew that he had to do it. +When Hazelton had anything to do he believed in doing it well. So, putting +all possible force into his throw, Harry let the rock fragment fly, and +this time he was sure that his enemy would not be able to dodge in time. + +Nor did the black man make any seeming effort to dodge. + +Bump! Squarely in the black face the rock landed. Harry heard the sound +and felt ill within himself. Yet the black man did not stagger. With a +contemptuous snort he kicked the fragment of rock into the water as it +landed at his feet. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" + +For the first time Harry Hazelton felt positively dismayed. He saw the +long, massive arms moving, looking like a powerful ape's arms. There could +be no doubt that the unknown was ready for a spring. + +Harry did not retreat. Where could he run to? Only a few yards could he +go out towards the end of the wall. Then, if he wished to continue his +flight he could only take to the water. + +Only a glance was needed at the bulky, powerful frame of the unknown to +make it appear certain that the latter could swim two rods to the young +engineer's one. + +Harry decided instantly to stand his ground and to make the most valiant +fight possible on so slippery a footing as that presented by the top of +the retaining wall. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" + +It was as though the black unknown sought to terrify his intended victim +with his repetitions of that harsh, discordant laugh. Harry braced himself +and waited. + +Then, off shoreward, came the sound of "put-put-put." The motor boat, +"Morton," was putting out at last. + +"If I can keep this fellow busy for a few minutes, I can have all the help +I want," flashed through Hazelton's mind. So he opened his mouth, raising +his voice in a long, pent-up hail. + +"R e---e---e a d e! To---o---o---om R e a d e! Quick! Hazelton!" + +"Ha, ha!" jeered the unknown black. + +Then, suddenly, he leaped---not unexpectedly, however, for Harry had been +watching, cat-like. + +The unknown threw out his arms, seeking to wrap them around Hazelton. + +Not in vain had Harry been trained, season after season, on the athletic +ground of one of the best high school elevens in the United States. + +As the fellow leaped at him Harry crouched lower and went straight at his +opponent. + +Powerful as the stranger was he was no football player. Harry "tackled" +him in the neatest possible way, then strove to rise with this great +human being. + +In the first instant it seemed to the young engineer as though he were +trying to lift a mountain. His back felt as though it were snapping under +a giant's task. Yet, but for one fact, Hazelton would have risen with his +man, and would have hurled the mysterious one over into the waters of the +gulf. + +Just in the instant of victory Harry's injured right foot gave out under +him. With a stifled groan he sank down just as he threw his opponent. + +The black, instead of going into the water, landed hard on his back on the +top of the wall. He was up again, however, before Hazelton could repress +the pain in his foot and leap at the wretch. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" came the tantalizing challenge. + +"Put-put-put!" sounded over the water, coming nearer all the time. + +"Re---e---e---e a d e! T o m R e a d e! Help---quick!" yelled Harry, +lustily. + +This, doubtless, was the first call that Tom, at the bow of the motor boat, +thought he heard. + +Uttering a snort, this time, instead of the laugh, the black sprang at his +intended prey. Their heads met, with considerable force. Then, with a +wild chuckle, the black wound his apelike arms around the young engineer. + +"Reade! Tom Reade! Reade!" bellowed Hazelton lustily, as he tried +desperately to free himself from the crushing embrace of the other. + +* * * * * + +Over the waters came the penetrating beam of a small search-light. The +"Morton" was coming nearer all the time, but the ray did not yet reach with +any great clearness the point where Harry Hazelton had been fighting for +his life against his strange foe in the black night. + +"Keep parallel with the wall, Evarts," Tom ordered, crisply. "Conlon, are +you pushing the engines for all it's worth?" + +"Yes, sir," came from the engine-tender. "This old craft isn't good for +quite seven miles' an hour, anyway." + +"There! Now I've picked up the part of the wall where there isn't any wall +in sight just now," said Tom, wincing over his own bull. "Hazelton ought +to be just this side of there." + +"There's no one near the breach," replied Evarts. + +"So I see," Reade admitted, in a tone of worriment. "Oh, well, Harry isn't +such an infant as to be wiped out all in one moment." + +"Where is Mr. Hazelton then?" inquired Evarts, as Tom swung the arc of the +searchlight in broad curves. + +"Great Scott! I wish I knew!" gasped Reade, his perplexity and his anxiety +growing with every second. "There appears to be no one on top of the +wall." + +Evarts ran in within a few feet of the wall, on the shore-side of the +breach. + +"Shall I land you there, sir?" questioned the foreman. + +"Presently," Tom nodded. "But now, back out a few feet and swing the +boat's nose around so that I can make a search with this light." Evarts +obeyed the order. Despite the smallness of the light, Reade was able to +send the searching beam of light back nearly one-half of the way to shore. +Nowhere was there any human being visible on the wall. + +"Harry! Hazelton!" bawled Tom, with all the power in his lungs. + +There was no answer. + +"Jupiter! You'll have to land me, I reckon," quaked Tom Reade. "Drive +her nose in---gently. I'll be ready to jump." + +"Be careful how you _do_ jump," warned Evarts. "It's mighty slippery on +that wall tonight." + +Tom poised himself as the boat moved in close. Then he took a light +leap, landing safely. + +Here the young chief engineer again brought his pocket flash lamp into +play. Closely he scanned the top of the wall all around where he knew he +had left his chum. + +But Harry was nowhere to be seen, nor, on the wet wall, could Tom find +any signs of a scuffle, or any other sign that gave him a clue. + +"Evarts, this is mighty mysterious!" groaned the young chief. + +"Unless---" hinted the foreman. + +"Unless what?" + +"Perhaps Mr. Hazelton ran along the walltop to the shore." + +"He'd have hailed us, then, in passing, wouldn't he?" choked Tom Reade. +"Besides, I had the light playing on this wall most of the way. If he +had run back we would have seen him, even if he hadn't hailed. And he +couldn't have run farther out to seaward. Evarts, I'm downright worried." + +Tom Reade might indeed well be worried over the grewsome mysteries of this +night of evil deeds. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SOME ONE CALLS AGAIN + + +Half an hour later Tom Reade leaped ashore at the little pier. + +"My orders, Mr. Reade." + +"They're brief and concise," Tom rejoined. "You're to cruise the length +of the wall, especially farther out from shore. Use your searchlight +freely. Keep the wall so guarded that no rascal can slip out there, either +over the wall or by boat, and do any damage. Mr. Evarts, the safety of +the wall until daylight is your whole charge." + +"Very good, sir. But I'm sure that nothing more will happen to the wall." + +"If anything does it will be up to you, Mr. Evarts," Tom assured him +grimly. "I'll hold you responsible." + +"I won't let anything happen, Mr. Reade. And I hope you find Mr. Hazelton +all right." + +"He may be up at camp," Tom answered, though in his heart he did not +believe it. + +Had Harry escaped whatever danger had menaced him, Tom knew very well that +his chum, after appealing for help, would by some means have signaled his +subsequent safety. + +However, Tom started toward camp at a run. He was wholly mystified. The +search in the neighborhood of the breach in the wall had been continued +until its hopelessness had been fully demonstrated. The search had also +been continued over the water, for a possible clue to the mystery. + +Though Tom ran, he felt himself choking, stifling. Despite all his efforts +to cheer himself the young chief engineer felt certain that his chum had +mysteriously met his fate, and that brave, dependable Harry Hazelton was no +more. + +Yet how could he have vanished so completely, and what possibly could have +happened to his assailant or assailants? + +"It'll be an awful night, until daylight," Tom groaned inwardly, as he +ran. "At daylight, of course, we can make a far better search, especially +over the water. But in the hours that must elapse---! It's going to be a +tough period of waiting!" + +Arrived at camp, Tom made straight for his own barracks, letting himself +in with a latch-key as soon as he could control his shaking hand +sufficiently to use the key. + +Tom bounded straight for the bed-room of the superintendent, at the rear +of the little building. + +"Mr. Renshaw!" shouted the young chief, throwing open the bed-room door. + +The barrack was lighted by electricity. Tom threw on the light, then +wheeled toward the bed, to find the superintendent sitting up, revolver +in hand. + +"Oh, it's you, is it?" gasped the superintendent. "Mr. Reade, in my +stupor from being aroused I was just on the point of shooting you for a +burglar. It's awful!" + +"You ought to throw that revolver to the bottom of the gulf," Tom rasped +out. + +"Not much!" retorted the superintendent. "Handling as mixed a crew as we +have on this work I wouldn't think of going about unarmed. And you ought +to go armed, too, Mr. Reade." + +"Bosh!" uttered Tom. He had a well-known objection to carrying a pistol. +Reade always maintained that a pistol-carrying man was a coward. A coward +is one who is afraid, and the man who is not afraid has no reason to carry +a weapon. + +"Renshaw," added Tom, "there's just one circumstance in which I would +carry a pistol---and that is, if I were carrying large sums of other +people's money. If I were a pay-master, or a bank messenger, I'd carry +a pistol, but under no other circumstances, outside of military service, +would I carry a weapon. But---are you thoroughly awake, now?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then, Mr. Renshaw, get up and hide that pistol somewhere. While you're +about it, listen to me. Some scoundrel has blown out a large portion of +our retaining wall to-night. I left Hazelton on guard at the point and +came ashore to get out the motor boat, 'Morton.' Before I could return +I heard Hazelton's call for help, and---he has disappeared! There's +wicked work on hand to-night. You'll have to get up and help me. Be quick +with your dressing. We've work to do to-night, and all of it is man's +work." + +Tom hastily added such other particulars as were needed. Renshaw, while +he dressed hurriedly, listened with a horror that he took no pains to +conceal. + +"Evarts claims that it's revenge work, on the part of some of our men, +because Hazelton and I stopped gambling in the camp," Tom continued. + +"It might be," Renshaw admitted thoughtfully. "But to me it seems that +there must be a lot more behind the whole terrible matter." + +"That's the way it strikes me, too," Tom nodded. "However, you're dressed, +so now we can hurry out and get busy." + +"What shall we do first?" Superintendent Renshaw inquired. + +"That's what I've been thinking over while you were dressing," Tom replied. +"Of course the one thing of real importance is to find Hazelton." + +"Killed, beyond a doubt," replied the older man. + +"I refuse to believe it," Tom retorted. "There's a mystery in his fate, +but I simply won't believe that Harry has been killed." + +"Then why didn't you hear from him further?" + +"That's the mystery." + +Tom had shaped their course for the barracks occupied by the foremen. He +bounded upon the little porch and began to hammer on the door with both +fists. + +"Turn out, everybody!" Tom bellowed. "Every foreman is on duty to-night. +Show a light, and let us in as soon as you can." + +Some one was heard stirring. Then Dill, one of the foremen, admitted the +callers. + +"Are all the others up?" Reade asked, sharply. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Good! Tell your associates to finish dressing as quickly as possible and +to meet me in the office." + +"The office" was a little room just inside the entrance to the building. +It was a room where the foremen sat and chatted in the evenings. + +"Put a double-hustle on, everyone," Tom called after Dill. + +"Yes, sir." + +Barely three minutes had passed when all of the six remaining foremen had +assembled. Tom plunged instantly into a brief account of what had +happened. + +"It seems to me, sir---" Dill began. + +"Keep it to yourself, then, if you please," Tom interrupted him gently. +"We haven't any time for opinions to-night. What we want is swift, +intelligent work, and a lot of it." + +Tom thereupon gave each man his directions. + +"Now, each of you go to your own gangs in the camp," he added. "Wake what +men you need and put 'em to work. If any of the men object to being taken +from their cots in the night, just lift them out. Don't stand any +nonsense. Let each foreman make it his business to know just what the men +under him are doing." + +One foreman was to take men with lanterns and go out carefully over every +foot of the seawall. Another was to organize a beach patrol. Still +another, with but two men, was to go into the town of Blixton and see if +any tidings of Hazelton could be obtained there. To one foreman fell the +task of searching carefully through camp before going to other work +assigned to him. + +"Now, get to work, all of you," Tom ordered. "As an extra inducement you +can tell your men that the one who finds Hazelton, whether dead or alive, +shall have a reward of one hundred dollars. Remember the watchword for +to-night, which is, 'hustle!'" + +In all, some sixty men were pulled from their cots. Tom, having given the +orders, walked down to the beach with his superintendent. + +"You've covered everything that's possible, I think, Mr. Reade," commented +the foreman. + +"I think I have. But there won't be any rest for any one until we have +found Hazelton." + +"Are you going to have the water dragged?" + +"Not before daylight---perhaps not then," Reade replied. "I can't bring +myself to believe that Harry was thrown into the water and that he drowned +there." + +"It'll take the chief a day or two to realize that," sighed the +superintendent to himself. "Yet that is exactly what has happened. The +chief won't believe it, though, until the body is found." + +Down on the beach there was really nothing for Tom and his head man to do +after the arrival of the foremen and their gangs. Everything went ahead in +an orderly manner. + +"I don't suppose you could get any rest, under the circumstances, Mr. +Reade," hinted the superintendent, "yet that is just what you are going +to need." + +"Rest?" echoed Tom, gazing at the man, in a strange, wide-eyed way, while +a grim smile flickered around the corners of his mouth. "What have rest +and I to do with each other just now?" + +"Yet there's nothing you can do here." + +"I am here, anyway," Reade retorted. "I'm on the spot---that's something." + +"Let me run back to the house and get you some blankets," urged the +superintendent. "Then you can lie down on the sand and rest. Of course +I know you can't sleep at present." + +"It is not necessary go back," volunteered a voice behind them. "I have +the blankets." + +"Nicolas!" gasped Tom, in surprise. "How did you know I was here?" + +"I wake up when you talk to Meester Renshaw," replied the Mexican simply. +"I listen. I know, now---poor Senor Hazelton!" + +Nicolas's voice broke, and, as he stepped closer, Tom beheld some large +tears trickling down the little Mexican's face. + +"Nicolas, you're a good fellow!" cried Tom, impulsively, "but I don't want +the blankets. Spread them on the sand, then lie down on them yourself +until I need you." + +"What---me? I lie down?" demanded Nicolas. "No, no! That impossible is. +I must walk, walk! Me? I am like the caged panther to-night. I want +nothing but find the enemy who have hurt Senor Hazelton. Then I jump on +the back of that enemy!" + +Saying which Nicolas saluted, and, as became his position of servant, fell +back some yards. But first he had dropped the blankets to the beach. + +The light of lanterns showed that the men of one gang were searching +thoroughly all along the top of the wall. Once in a while a man belonging +to the beach patrol passed the chief engineer and the superintendent, +reporting only that no signs of Harry had been found. + +An hour thus passed. Then, from over the water, as the lantern-bearing +searchers were returning, a dull explosion boomed across the water. + +"Great Scott!" quivered Tom. "There they go at it again, Mr. Renshaw! +Another section of the retaining wall has gone---blown up!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WANTED---DAYLIGHT AND DIVERS + + +In a trice the foreman of the gang on the wall wheeled his men about, +running them out seaward toward the scene of the latest explosion. That +much was plain from the twinkling of the rapidly-moving lanterns. + +"Come on, Renshaw!" Tom shouted. "You, too, Nicolas. You can pull an +oar." + +Reade was already racing out on to the small dock. He all but threw +himself into a rowboat that lay tied alongside. + +"Cast off and get in," Tom ordered his companions, as he pushed out a pair +of oars. "Nicolas, you're also good with a pair of oars. Mr. Renshaw, +you take the tiller. Inform me instantly when you see the first gleam of +the 'Morton's' search-light. Evarts ought to have caught the scoundrels +this time. Evidently he's been cruising softly without showing a light." + +Mr. Renshaw gathered up the tiller ropes as Tom pushed off from the dock. +Then the chief engineer addressed himself to the task of rowing. His firm +muscles, working at their best, shot the little craft ahead. Nicolas, at +the bow oars, did his best to keep up with his chief in the matter of +rowing, though the Mexican was neither an oarsman nor an athlete. + +"Don't you make out the motor boat's lights yet?" Tom asked impatiently, +after the first long spurt of rowing. + +"Not yet, sir," replied the superintendent. "I shan't miss the light when +it shows." + +A few minutes later the superintendent announced in a low voice: + +"There's some craft, motionless, just a bit ahead." + +Tom, without stopping his work at the oars, turned enough to glance +forward. + +"Why, it's---it's the 'Morton'!" he gasped. + +"I believe it is," declared the superintendent, staring keenly at the +nearly shapeless black mass ahead. + +Tom, with his jaws set close, bent harder than ever at the oars. + +"Senor!" wailed Nicolas, gaspingly. "If you do not go more easily I shall +expire for lack of breath. I cannot keep up with you." + +Reade fell into a slower, stronger stroke. + +"Drop the oars any time you want to, Nicolas," Reade urged. "There won't +be much more rowing to do, anyway." + +Presently Tom himself rested on his oars, as the boat, moving under its +own headway, approached the motor boat. + +"Going to board her on the quarter?" the superintendent asked. + +"No; by the bow," Tom answered. "Let go the tiller ropes. I'll pull +alongside." + +As they started to pass the boat a sound reached them that made Reade grow +wild with anger. Snore after snore, from five busy sleepers! + +Tom pulled softly up to the bow. + +"There's the anchor cable!" snorted Tom, Pointing to a rope that ran from +the bow of the "Morton" down into the water. "Did you ever see more +wicked neglect of important duty? And not even a lantern out to mark her +berth! Get aboard, Mr. Renshaw, and go aft to start the engine. Nicolas, +you take this boat astern and make fast. Don't wake the sleepers---poor, +tired shirkers!" + +Tom, in utter disgust, leaped aboard the boat at the bow. There, behind +the wheel, Evarts lay on the floor of the boat, his rolled-up coat serving +as a pillow. + +Almost noiselessly Tom hauled up the light anchor. Then he stood by the +wheel. + +"All ready at the engine, Mr. Reade!" called the superintendent, softly. + +"Let her go," Tom returned, "as soon as Nicolas boards." + +The Mexican was quickly aboard, after having made the rowboat's painter +fast. + +"Headway!" announced Renshaw, throwing over the drive-wheel of the engine. + +"Put-put-put!" sputtered the motor. Then the "Morton" began really to +move. With the first real throb of the engine the electric running lights +gleamed out. + +Aft Conlon began to stir. Then he opened his eyes. + +"What---" he began. + +"Silence!" commanded Mr. Renshaw. + +"Tell me who's at the wheel?" Conlon begged. + +"Mr. Reade," replied the superintendent, dryly. "Now, keep still!" + +"Whew---ew---ew!" whistled Conlon, in dire dismay. Then he sank back, +watching the engine with moody eyes. The other three men aft still slept. + +Presently Tom, in shifting his position, touched one foot lightly against +the foreman's head. Evarts half-awoke, then realized that the boat was +moving. + +"Who started this craft against my orders?" he drowsily demanded, as he +sat up. + +"I did," Tom retorted witheringly, "though I didn't hear your orders to +the contrary." + +"You---Mr. Reade?" gasped the foreman, leaping to his feet. + +"Yes---and a fine fellow you are to trust!" Tom rejoined. "I leave you +with very definite orders, and you go to sleep. Then there's another +explosion out on the wall and you sleep right along." + +"Another explosion?" blurted Evarts, rubbing his eyes with his fists. +"Here, let me have that wheel, sir. I'll have you out there quick!" + +"You've nothing more to do here," Tom answered, dryly, without yielding +the wheel. + +"What do you mean by that?" Evarts cried quickly. + +"Can't you guess?" wondered Reade. + +"Mr. Reade means," said Conlon, who had come forward, "that we're +fired---discharged." + +"Nonsense!" protested Evarts. + +"Conlon has guessed rightly, as far as you're concerned," Tom continued. +"To-morrow, Evarts, you go to Mr. Renshaw and get your pay. As for you, +Conlon, you're not discharged this time. Evarts admitted himself that it +was he who gave positive orders to tie the boat up at anchor. You were +under his orders, so I can't hold you responsible. Are you wide awake, +now?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Conlon meekly. + +"Then go back and attend to your engine. Look sharp for hail or bell." + +"I guess you'll find you can't quite get along without me," argued Evarts +moodily. "You'll find that you need me to manage some of the men you've +got." + +"You're through with this job, as I just did you the honor to inform you," +Tom responded quietly. "To-morrow Mr. Renshaw will pay you off up to +date." + +"If I'm bounced, then you'll pay me for the balance of the month, anyway!" +snarled the foreman defiantly. "You can't drop me without notice like +that." + +"You'll be paid to date only," Tom retorted. "You've been discharged for +wilful and serious neglect of duty, and you're not entitled to pay for the +balance of the month." + +"All right, then," retorted the other hotly. "I'll collect my money +through the courts. I'll show you!" + +"Just as you please," Reade replied indifferently. "But I imagine any +court will consider seven dollars a day pretty large pay for a man who +goes to sleep on duty." + +"See here, I'll---" + +"You'll keep quiet, Evarts, or you'll go overboard," Reade interrupted +significantly. "I happen to know that you can swim, so I won't be +bothered with you here if you insist on making a nuisance of yourself." + +Mr. Renshaw, having been relieved at the engine, now came forward. + +"Mr. Renshaw," directed the young chief engineer, "as soon after daylight +as it is convenient for you you'll pay Evarts off in full to date and let +him go. He threatens to sue if he is not paid to the end of the month, but +if he wants to we'll let the courts do our worrying." + +"All right, sir," nodded the superintendent. + +Evarts had dropped into a seat just forward of the engine. He sat there, +regarding Tom Reade with a baleful look of hate. + +"You're a success, all right, at one thing, and that's making enemies," +muttered the discharged foreman under his breath. + +Besides attending to the wheel Tom now reached out with one hand and +switched on the search-light, which he manipulated with one hand. Shortly +he found the spot where the portion of the wall had been blown away by the +first explosion. A hundred and fifty yards farther out he beheld the work +of the second explosion. Some seventy-five yards in length was the new +open space, where at least as much of the retaining wall as was visible +above the water had been blown out. + +"Slow down, Cordon," ordered Tom. "All we want is headway." + +"All right, sir." + +Tom drifted in within a few feet of the former site of the retaining wall. +The "Morton" moved slowly by, Tom, by the aid of the searchlight, noting +the extent of the disaster. + +"Get back aft, Evarts," ordered the young engineer, turning and beholding +the late foreman. "We don't want you here." + +For a moment or two it looked as though Evarts would refuse. Then, with +a growl, he rose and picked his way aft. By this time the other men who +had been in his gang were awake. They regarded their former foreman with +no great display of sympathy. + +"I'll confess I'm mystified," muttered Tom, watching the scene of the +latest explosion for some minutes after the engine had been stopped. +"When daylight comes and we can use the divers we ought to know a bit more +about how such a big blast is worked in the dead of night when the +scoundrels ought to make noise enough to be heard. It must have been a +series of connected blasts, all touched off at the same moment, Mr. +Renshaw, but even such a series is by no means easy to lay. And then the +blasts have to be drilled for, and then tamped." + +"As you say, sir," replied the superintendent, "a much clearer idea can be +formed when we have daylight and the divers." + +Tom held his watch to one side of the searchlight. + +"Nearly two hours yet until daylight, Mr. Renshaw," he announced. "And, +of course, it will be two or three hours after daylight before we can get +the divers at work. A fearful length of time to wait!" + +"You'd better go back to the shore, sir," urged the superintendent. + +"Not while this boat needs to be run," objected Reade. "For the rest of +the night I want a man here whom I can trust." + +"Will you trust me with the boat?" proposed the superintendent. + +"Why, of course!" + +"Then let me run back to the dock and put you ashore, Mr. Reade. After +that I'll come out here and patrol along the wall until broad daylight." + +That was accordingly done. The "Morton" lay alongside the dock, and +Nicolas instantly busied himself with casting off the rowboat and making +her fast to the pier instead. + +Evarts sullenly remained in the boat. + +"Come on, Evarts," spoke Tom quietly. + +"Mr. Reade," expostulated the late foreman, "I'm not going to be thrown +out of my job like this." + +"Which especial way of being thrown out do you prefer then?" Tom queried, +dryly. + +"I'm not going to be put out of my job until I've had at least one good +talk with you," insisted the foreman. + +"I'm afraid the time has passed for talking with you," Reade responded, +turning toward the shore. "You lost a great chance, to-night, to serve +the company with distinction, and your negligence cost the company a lot +of money through the second explosion. Are you coming out of that +boat---or shall I come back after you?" + +Evarts rose, with a surly air. He stepped slowly ashore, after which one +of the crew cast off. The engine began to move, and the "Morton" started +back to her post. + +"Oh, you feel fine and important, just at this minute!" grumbled the +discharged foreman, under his breath, glaring wickedly at the broad back +of the young chief engineer. "But I'll do something to take the +importance out of you before very long, Tom Reade!" + +Truth to tell, Tom, though he was still alert to the interests of his +employers, felt anything but important. The thought of Harry Hazelton's +unknown fate caused a great, choking lump in his throat as Reade stepped +from the pier to land. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MR. BASCOMB IS PEEVISH + + +At the first blush of dawn Tom despatched the tireless Nicolas to Blixton +to notify the police of the explosions and of the disappearance of Harry +Hazelton. + +Two men in blue, wearing stars on their coats, came over within an hour, +walked about and looked wise until noon. They discovered nothing whatever, +and their theories did not strike Reade as being worthy of attention. + +As soon as possible the divers were sent down at the two wrecked parts of +the retaining wall. These men reported that the breaches extended ten +feet beneath the surface at some points; only eight feet at other points. +The foundations of the walls were reported as being secure. Then Tom, +under the directions of two divers, put on a diver's suit and went down +himself, for the first time in his life. After some two hours, with +frequent ascents to the surface, the young chief engineer had satisfied +himself that the foundations were secure. Then he did some rapid figuring. + +"The loss will not exceed eight thousand dollars---the cost of rebuilding +the missing parts of the walls," Reade informed Superintendent Renshaw. + +"Only eight thousand dollars!" whistled the superintendent. + +"Well, that figure isn't anywhere nearly as high as I feared it might be," +Tom pursued. + +"But it will strike the directors of the Melliston Company as being pretty +big for an extra bill," muttered Renshaw. "Especially, since---" + +The superintendent paused. + +"You were going to say," smiled Tom, wanly, "since the loss wouldn't have +happened if I hadn't kicked the gamblers out of camp." + +"That's about the size of it, Mr. Reade," nodded Renshaw. "Directors of +big companies are less interested in moral reforms than in dividends. +They're likely to make a big kick over what your crusade has cost them +already, even if it costs them no more." + +"We'll see to it that it doesn't cost them any more," Tom retorted. +"Every night we'll watch that sea wall the way a mother does a sick baby. +There'll be no more explosions. As to the directors kicking over the +present expense, they'll have a prompt chance to do it. As soon as the +telegraph office in Blixton was open this morning I wired the president of +the company. Now, I'm going ashore. I can't do anything out here to help +you, can I?" + +"Nothing," replied Renshaw. "If I didn't know how foolish the advice would +sound, Mr. Reade, I'd urge you to take a nap." + +"I'll take a nap when I find it impossible to keep my eyes open any +longer," Tom compromised. "For the next few hours---work and lots of it." + +As yet no effort had been made to repair the breaches in the wall. The +different gangs were working that day in nearer shore. The divers, +gathered on a scow, were now waiting for the "Morton" to convey them back +to shore. Reade decided to go with them. + +"Twenty minutes to two," murmured Tom to himself, glancing at his watch as +the "Morton" went laboriously back over the dancing, glinting waves. +"There's a train due at Blixton at 1:30. By the time I get back to the +house I ought to find one or more officials of the company impatiently +waiting to jump on my devoted neck." + +Nor was Tom disappointed in this expectation. Pacing up and down on the +porch of the house occupied by the engineers and superintendent was George +C. Bascomb, president of the Melliston Company. Behind him stood Nicolas, +respectfully eager to do anything he could for the comfort of the great +man. + +"Ah, there you are, Reade," called President Bascomb in an irritated tone, +as he caught sight of the young engineer striding forward. "Now, what's +all this row that you wired us about?" + +"Will you come down to the water, and go out with me to look at the +damage, sir?" asked Tom, as he took the president's reluctantly offered +hand. + +"No," grunted Mr. Bascomb. "Let me hear the story first. Come inside +and tell me about it." + +"Our friend is not quite so gracious as he has been on former meetings," +thought Tom, as he led the way inside. "I wonder if he is going to get +cranky?" + +Inside was a little office room, as in the foremen's barracks. + +"Any decent cigars here?" questioned Mr. Bascomb, after exploring his own +pockets and finding them innocent of tobacco. + +"No, sir," Tom answered. "No one here smokes." + +"I've got to have a cigar," the president of the company insisted. + +"Then, sir, if you'll give Nicolas your orders, he'll run over to Blixton +and get you what you want." + +The Mexican departed in haste on the errand. + +"Now, first of all, Reade," began the president, "I am disgusted at +learning of one fool mistake that you've made." + +"What is that, sir?" Tom asked, coloring. + +"I've just learned that you discharged Evarts---one of our best and most +useful men." + +"I did discharge him, sir," Reade admitted. + +"Take him back, at once." + +"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't do it. He---" + +"I don't think you quite understand," broke in Mr. Bascomb coldly. "I +directed you to take Mr. Evarts back on this work." + +"I was about to tell you, sir, why I can't do anything of the sort. +I---" + +"Stop right there, Reade," ordered President Bascomb, in his most +aggressive, bullying manner. "The first point that we have to settle is +that Evarts must come back on the pay-roll and have his old position. Be +good enough to let that proposition sink in before we take up the second." + +"I am very sorry, sir," Tom murmured respectfully, "but I can't and won't +have Evarts back here. I won't have him around the work at all. Now what +is the second proposition, sir?" + +As Tom spoke he looked straight into Mr. Bascomb's eyes. The other glared +at him unbelievingly but angrily. + +"Young man, you don't appear to understand that I am president and head of +the Melliston Company." + +"I quite understand it, sir," Reade answered. "At the same time I am chief +engineer here, and I am committed to building the breakwater and dredging +out the enclosed bay or harbor, all within a certain fixed appropriation. +In order to keep my part of the bargain I must have men with me on whom I +can depend to the fullest limit. Evarts isn't such a man and I won't have +him on the work again." + +"He'll go on the pay-roll, anyway," snorted Mr. Bascomb. + +"I can't help what you may see fit to pay him, Mr. Bascomb, provided you +pay him somewhere else. But the fellow can't go on the pay-roll here for +the simple reason that he wouldn't be allowed to visit this construction +camp for the purpose of getting his money. Mr. Bascomb, I am not trying to +ride a high horse. I recognize that you are president of the company, and +that I must take all reasonable orders from you and carry them out to the +letter. Yet I can't take any orders that would simply hinder my work and +damage my reputation as an engineer. Evarts can't come back into this camp +as long as I am in charge here." + +"We'll take that up again presently," returned Mr. Bascomb, with an air of +ruffled dignity. "Now, there's another matter that we must discuss. I +know what has been done in the way of great damage to the retaining wall. +I also know that this damage came through enmity that you stirred up by +drumming certain parties out of this camp." + +"You refer, sir, I take it, to my act in having Blixton police officers +come in here and chase out some gamblers who had come here for the purpose +of winning the money of the workmen?" + +"That's it," nodded Bascomb. "In that matter you went too far---altogether +too far!" + +"I'm afraid I don't understand you, sir." + +"You mean, Reade, that you don't want to understand me," snapped the +president. "You admit having chased out the gamblers, don't you?" + +"Of course, I admit it, sir." + +"That was a bad move. In the future, Reade, you will not interfere with +any forms of amusement that the men may select for themselves in their +evening hours." + +Tom stared at the speaker in undisguised amazement. + +"But, Mr. Bascomb, the men are shamelessly robbed by the sharpers who come +here to gamble with them." + +"That's the men's own affair," scoffed the president. "Anyway, they have +a right to pitch away their wages if they want to. Reade, when you're as +old as I am you will understand that workmen who throw away their money +make the best workmen. They never have any savings, hence they must make +every effort to keep their jobs. A workman with savings becomes too +independent." + +"I am certain you have seen more of the world than I have, Mr. Bascomb," +Reade replied, respectfully. "At the same time I can't agree with you on +the point you have just stated. A workman with a bank account has always +a greater amount of self-respect, and a man who has self-respect is bound +to make a good citizen and a good workman. But there are still other +reasons why I had the gamblers chased out. Gambling here in the camp would +always create a great deal of disorder. Disorder destroys discipline, and +a camp like this, in order to give the best results in the way of work, +must have discipline. Moreover, the men, when gambling, remain up until +all hours of the night. A man who has been up most of the night can't give +an honest day's work in return for his wages. Unless the men get their +sleep and are kept in good condition we can't get the work out of them that +we have a right to expect." + +"The right man can _drive_ workmen," declared Mr. Bascomb, with emphasis. +"You'll have to drive your men. Get all the work out of them, but drop at +once this foolish policy of interfering with what they do after the whistle +blows. We can't have any more of this nonsense. It costs too much. By +the way, how much will it cost to repair the damage to the retaining +walls?" + +"About eight thousand dollars, sir, if my first figuring was correct," was +Reade's answer. + +"Eight thousand dollars!" scowled President Bascomb. "Now, Reade, doesn't +that amount of wanton, revengeful mischief teach you the folly of trying to +regulate camp life outside of working hours?" + +"I'm afraid it doesn't, sir." + +"Then you must be a fool, Reade!" + +"Thank you, sir. I will add that you're not the first man who has +suspected it." + +"You will, therefore, Reade," continued Mr. Bascomb, with his grandest air +of authority, "cause it to become known throughout the camp that you are +not going to interfere any further with any form of amusement that is +brought to the camp evenings by outsiders." + +"Is that proposition number two, sir?" queried the young chief engineer. + +"It is." + +"Then please don't misunderstand me, sir," Reade begged, respectfully, +"but it is declined, as is proposition number one." + +"Do you mean to say that you are going to go on with your fool way of +doing things?" + +"Yes, sir---until I am convinced that it is a fool way." + +"But I've just told you that it is," snapped Mr. Bascomb. + +"Then I say it very respectfully, sir, but pardon me for replying that I +don't consider the evidence very convincing. I have shown you why I must +have good order in the camp, and I have told you that I do not propose to +allow gambling or any other disorderly conduct to go on within camp limits. +I can't agree to these things, and then hope to win out by keeping the cost +of the work within the appropriation." + +"Do you feel that you'll keep within the appropriation by making enemies +who deliberately blow up our masonry?" glared Mr. Bascomb. + +"I doubt if there will be any more expense in that line, sir. I intend +to have such a watch kept over the wall as to prevent any further mischief +of the kind." + +"Watchmen are an item of expense, aren't they?" snorted the president. + +"Yes, sir; but next to nothing at all as compared with the mischief they +can prevent." + +"I have already told you how to prevent the mischief, Reade. Stop all of +your foolish nonsense and let the men have their old-time pastimes." + +"I can't do it, sir." + +"Have you paper, pen and ink here?" thundered Mr. Bascomb. "If so, bring +them." + +Tom quietly obeyed. + +"Reade," again thundered the president of the Melliston Company, "I have +had as much of your nonsense as I intend to stand. You are out of here, +from this minute. Take that pen and sign your resignation!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +TOM ISN'T AS EASY AS HE LOOKS + + +"I don't believe I'll do that, sir," murmured Tom, putting down the pen. + +"You don't, eh?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh, then you'd rather wait and be forced out?" + +"How about the contract, sir, between your company and Reade & Hazelton? +Contracts can't be broken as lightly as your words imply." + +"I'll break that contract, if I set out to," declared Mr. Bascomb, purpling +with half-suppressed rage. "I've every ground for breaking the contract. +You're running things with a high hand here, and disorganizing all our +efforts. No contract will stand on presentation of any such evidence as +that before a court." + +"I am quite willing to leave that to a court, if I have to," Reade +rejoined. His tones were decidedly cold. "Mr. Bascomb, even if I were +inclined to forfeit the contract I would have no legal right to do so +without the approval of my partner, Hazelton." + +"Humph! He's dead," snorted the president. + +"That yet remains to be proved, sir," Tom answered huskily, his voice +breaking slightly at thought of Harry. + +"How on earth do you think you could defend a contract against a wealthy +company like ours? Why, we could swamp you under our loose change alone. +How much money have you in the world? Two or three thousand dollars, +perhaps." + +"I've a little more than that," Tom Reade smiled. "For one thing, I'm a +third owner in the Ambition mine, on Indian Smoke Range, Nevada, and the +Ambition has been a dividend payer almost from the start. Hazelton owns +another third of the mine." + +"Eh?" gasped Mr. Bascomb, plainly taken aback. + +"Oh, we're not millionaires," Tom laughed easily. "Yet I fancy Hazelton +and I could raise enough money to fight any breach-of-contract case in +court. With a steady-paying mine, you know, we could even discount to +some extent the earnings of future years." + +"Oh, well, we don't want hard feelings," urged Mr. Bascomb, his manner +becoming more peaceable. "The plain truth is, Reade, that we're utterly +dissatisfied with your way of managing things here. When you know how the +Melliston Company feels toward you, you don't want to be impudent enough to +insist on hanging on, do you?" + +"I am certain that I speak for my partner, sir, when I state that we won't +drop the contract until we have fulfilled it," Tom muttered, coolly, but +with great firmness. + +"What's all this dispute about anyway, Bascomb?" a voice called cheerily +from the hallway. + +"Oh, it's you, is it, Prenter?" asked Mr. Bascomb, turning and not looking +overjoyed at the interruption. + +Simon F. Prenter was treasurer of the Melliston Company. Tom had met him +at the time of signing the engineers' contract with the company. Now Reade +sprang up to place a chair for the new arrival. + +"What was all the row about?" Mr. Prenter asked affably. He was a man of +about forty-five, rather stout, with light blue eyes that looked at one +with engaging candor. + +"I have been suggesting to Reade that he might resign," replied Mr. +Bascomb, stiffly. + +"Why?" asked Prenter, opening his eyes wider. + +"Because he has raised the mischief on this breakwater job. He has all +the men by their ears, and the camp in open mutiny." + +"So?" asked Mr. Prenter, looking astonished. + +"Exactly, and therefore I have called upon the young man to resign." + +"And he refuses?" queried the treasurer. "Most astounding obstinacy on the +part of so young a man when dealing with his elder." + +"I'll try to explain to you, Mr. Prenter," volunteered Reade, "just what +I've been trying to tell Mr. Bascomb." + +"I don't know that I need trouble you," replied Mr. Prenter, moving so that +he stood more behind the irate president. "I overheard what you were +telling him." + +Then the treasurer did a most unexpected thing. He winked broadly at the +young engineer. + +"Yes, Prenter," Mr. Bascomb went on, "this camp is in a state of mutiny. +The men are all at odds with their chief." + +"Strange," murmured the treasurer of the Melliston Company. "When I paused +on the porch, before entering, I thought I caught sight of unusual +activity down at the water front. Did you notice it, too, Bascomb?" + +"I noticed nothing of the sort," replied the president stiffly. "Am I to +infer, Prenter, that you are going to follow your occasional tactics and +try to laugh me out of my decision as president of the company?" + +"Oh, nothing of the sort, I assure you," hastily protested the treasurer. +But he found chance to drive another wink Tom Reade's way. The young chief +engineer could not but feel that an ally had suddenly come his way. + +"Now, what is the nature and extent of the mutiny?" asked Mr. Prenter. + +"First of all, eight thousand dollars' damage has been done to the +retaining wall of the breakwater," replied Mr. Bascomb. "That is, +according to Mr. Reade's figures, which very likely may prove to be too +low. Also, Mr. Hazelton has been murdered." + +"Hazelton---killed?" gasped Mr. Prenter showing genuine concern. "Of +course I know that the telegram to the office said that Hazelton was +missing, but I didn't suppose it was anything as tragic as a killing." + +"Well, Hazelton can't be found, so I haven't a doubt he was killed as part +of a general plan of mutiny and revenge on the part of the mixed crews of +men working here," declared Mr. Bascomb. + +"Oh, I sincerely hope that Hazelton hasn't lost his life here!" cried Mr. +Prenter. "Reade, aren't you going to take us down to the water front and +show us the extent of the damage?" + +"I shall be only too glad to do so, sir," Tom agreed. + +Even Mr. Bascomb consented at last to go. As they gained the porch +Nicolas rushed up with the cigars for which the president had sent him. +While Mr. Bascomb paused to light one, Mr. Prenter thrust an arm through +Tom's and led that youth down the road. + +"Now, Mr. Reade," murmured the treasurer, earnestly, "Mr. Bascomb, of +course, is our president, and I don't want you to treat him with the +slightest disrespect. But Bascomb isn't the majority stockholder nor the +whole board of directors, so I'll just drop this hint: When Bascomb talks +of resignations don't attach too serious importance to it until you receive +a resolution endorsing the same view and passed by the board of directors +of the company." + +"Thank you. I have no intention of resigning," smiled Tom. + +"Now, let's go on," continued Mr. Prenter. + +Mr. Bascomb, having his cigar lighted, seemed to prefer strolling in the +rear by himself. + +"Now, I don't want to give you any wrong impressions, Mr. Reade," went on +Mr. Prenter. "Mr. Bascomb is the head of our company, but other directors +represent more of the stock of the company than he does. I am one of them. +Sometimes Mr. Bascomb gets a bit hard-headed, and he is inclined to give +orders that others of us wouldn't approve. I judge that you and he were +having some dispute when I happened along." + +"I didn't regard it as a dispute, sir," Reade rejoined. "In the first +place, I had discharged, for incompetency and faithlessness, a foreman +named Evarts. + +"And Evarts is a pet of Mr. Bascomb's," smiled Mr. Prenter. "I imagine +that Evarts is even some sort of family connection who has to be looked +after and kept in a good job." + +"Anyway," Tom continued, "I explained that Evarts was worse than useless +here and that I couldn't have him in the camp or on the job." + +"Quite right, I fancy," nodded Mr. Prenter. "In the second place, Mr. +Bascomb ordered me to stop my crusade against the gamblers who had tried +to invade the camp and rob the men of their earnings. Hazelton and I had +that sort of row once out in Arizona---and we won out." + +"You deserve to win out here, too," remarked Mr. Prenter. "I have no +patience with anything but straight, uncompromising right. We can't +control the men, if they see fit to leave the camp at night, but you have +every right---and it's your duty---to see to it that no disorder is allowed +within camp limits. I, too, have heard something about your trouble here, +Mr. Reade, and I can promise you that the directors generally will sustain +you. So Mr. Bascomb demanded your resignation?" + +"He did, sir." + +"Let it go at that," smiled Mr. Prenter. "You may even, sometime, if it +will please Mr. Bascomb, hand him your resignation. I will see to it that +it doesn't get past the board of directors. Mr. Bascomb is irritable, and +sometimes he is a downright crank, but he is valuable to us just the same. +We feel, too, Reade, that you and Hazelton are just the men we need to put +this breakwater through in the best fashion." + +"Even though at least eight thousand dollars in damage was done last +night?" queried Tom. + +"Yes, even in the face of that. I am certain that you will know how to +forestall any more such spite work." + +"Now, I'm not altogether so sure of that, sir," Reade answered, quickly. +"Of course we'll be eternally vigilant after this, but the trick was done +last night so cleverly and mysteriously that we may be surprised again by +the plotters. Speaking of mystery, could anything be stranger, or harder +to explain, than what happened to poor Hazelton?" + +"There _was_ mystery for you!" nodded Mr. Prenter. "Have you any ideas +whatever on the subject of Hazelton's disappearance?" + +"Not the slightest," groaned Tom. "I know all the indications are that he +has been killed, and I ought to believe that such is the case. But I +simply won't believe it. Why, if he were killed, what became of the body?" + +"It's a puzzle," sighed Mr. Prenter. + +They were now nearing the land end of the breakwater wall. Mr. Bascomb +overtook them. Together the three strolled out along the wall, halting +frequently, to observe what the men were doing. It was their plan to keep +on until they came to the scene of the two explosions of the night before. + +"Just what are you doing here?" asked Mr. Bascomb, stopping and pointing to +a gang of men at work on a scow moored against the wall. + +"I can tell you, after a fashion, sir," Reade answered. "Yet this was a +part of Hazelton's performance. He had charge here, and knew ever so much +about it. Poor old Harry!" + +Behind them, at the beginning of the wall, a long, loud whistle sounded. + +In a moment fully a hundred of the workmen stood up, waved their caps and +cheered as though they had gone mad. + +Coming forward, with long strides, was Harry Hazelton, in the flesh! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MR. PRENTER INVESTIGATES + + +Tom suddenly felt dizzy. He wished to race back, to be the first to greet +his chum and press his hand. But just then Reade felt strangely +bewildered. + +"Of course I don't believe in ghosts!" Tom laughed nervously. + +"No!" chuckled Mr. Prenter. "This is real flesh and blood that is coming +toward us." + +Now, for the first time, Tom Reade knew just how fully he had believed, in +the inner temple of his soul, that Harry Hazelton had been actually killed. + +"Pulling my work to pieces, are you, Tom?" Harry called jovially. + +"P---p---pardon me for not coming to meet you, old fellow, b---b----but I'm +dumbfounded at seeing you," Tom called back. + +Harry, too, looked rather unsteady in his gait by the time he joined them. +The last few yards he tried to run along the wall. Tom thrust out an arm +and caught him just in time. + +"You've been hurt, Harry!" gasped Tom. + +"Yes, and I guess I'm a bit weak, even now," Hazelton mumbled. "Hurt? +Look at this." + +Hazelton uncovered his head, displaying a court-plaster bandage underneath +which clotted blood showed. + +"Where in the world have you been?" Tom quivered. + +"At sea," Harry answered, with an attempt at banter. + +"What happened to you?" + +"Tom, you remember the big black man I imagined that I saw last night?" + +"Of course I do." + +"He was a reality," Harry went on soberly. "After you had gone he appeared +again. We had it hot and heavy. I saw your boat coming, and I yelled---" + +"I heard you," Tom interposed. "We got along as speedily as we could." + +"And you didn't find me," finished Harry. "That brute hit me over the head +with something. We clinched and rolled into the gulf together. That was +the last that I remember clearly for some time. For a long time I had a +dream that I was bobbing about in water, and that I had my arms around a +floating log. By and by I came to sufficiently to discover that the dream +was a reality. I was holding to the log in grim earnest. How I came to +find the log I can't imagine. I think, while more than half unconscious, +I must have been swimming straight out into the gulf. Then I must have +touched the log and clung to it instinctively. Anyway, when I recovered +more fully I knew that the 'long-shore lights looked thousands of miles +away. I was too weak even to dream of trying to swim back, or to push +the log before me. So I got a stout piece of cord out of one of my pockets +and lashed myself to the log. I was afraid I might become unconscious +again. A part of the time I was unconscious. + +"Well after daylight I saw a sloop headed my way. It didn't look as though +it would go straight by either. So I waved my handkerchief---my hat was +gone. After a while the skipper of the sloop saw me and headed in for me. +It was a sloop that carries the mails to Hetherton, a village that has no +rail connection. + +"The captain hauled me aboard, questioned me, looked as though he more than +half doubted my yarn, and then put me to bed in the cabin of the sloop. +He attended to me as best he could. When we reached Hetherton, about noon, +a doctor patched me up. I had something to eat, bought this new hat, and +hired a driver to take me ten miles to the railway. Then I came over here +as soon as I could, and---pardon me, but I'm feeling weak. I'll sit down +right here." + +Harry sat down heavily on the wall. + +"Why didn't you wire me?" asked Tom. + +"Why, you didn't doubt but that I'd turn up as surely as any other bad +egg, did you?" questioned Harry, looking up. + +"Chum, I wouldn't admit it, even to myself, but I feared you were dead. +But we mustn't waste time talking. Describe that black man to me, and---" + +"And the company will hire detectives to start right on the trail of that +negro," interjected Mr. Prenter. + +"If---if the expense is really warranted," ended Mr. Bascomb, cautiously. + +"Warranted?" retorted the treasurer of the Melliston Company. "Why, it +is absolutely necessary to protect our work here! That big negro is the +key to the mystery. We must catch him if it costs us a thousand dollars." + +"Oh, well," assented President Bascomb, reluctantly. + +"I---I guess I'm all right to start in to work now," Harry suggested, +trying to rise. + +"Sit down---you're not!" replied Tom and Treasurer Prenter, in the same +breath, as both pressed Harry back to the wall. + +"We don't need work so much to-day," Mr. Prenter continued. "What we want +to do is to solve this mystery. You stay here, Hazelton. I'll go back +alone and find a 'bus or a carriage. Then we'll go back to camp and hold +a council of war. Something must be done, and we'll decide _how_ it's to +be done." + +Mr. Prenter, though no longer a young man, proved that he carried both +speed and agility in his feet. While he was gone Tom endeavored to get a +few more particulars from Harry, but Hazelton simply didn't know anything +that threw any more light on the dread mystery of the breakwater. + +"Then a million-dollar undertaking like this is to be constantly imperiled, +just because of a senseless moral crusade that you two young men are trying +to put through in the camp," declared Mr. Bascomb moodily. + +Tom covertly signaled his chum to pay no heed to this remark. + +Within a quarter of an hour Treasurer Prenter returned in a stage drawn by +two sorry looking horses. + +"This will carry us up to the house, if the affair doesn't break down," +Mr. Prenter called cheerily. "Come along, folks." + +Soon afterwards the four were back on the porch. Nicolas came gliding out +to see what he could do for their comfort. + +"Just circulate around and make sure that no one gets close enough to hear +what we're talking about," Mr. Prenter directed. He had already ordered +the driver of the stage to withdraw a few rods and await orders. + +"Now, then, Hazelton," continued the treasurer, "we're anxious to hear more +of your strange story." + +"I've told you all there is to it," protested Harry. + +"Surely, there must be some more to it." + +"There isn't." + +"Then, for the tale of an engineer who was all but murdered, and a case +enveloped in mystery from end to end," cried Mr. Prenter, "we have a most +singular scarcity of details." + +"There are only two more details needed, as it appears to me," Tom remarked +quietly. + +"Good! And what are they?" demanded the treasurer, wheeling around to look +keenly at the young chief engineer. + +"The two details we now need," Reade continued, "are, first, who was the +negro? Second, who was behind the negro in this rascally work?" + +"Only two points to be solved," suggested the treasurer mockingly, "but +pretty big points. Of course, the first point is---" + +"To find that negro, and get him jailed," Tom declared incisively. + +"Good enough!" nodded Mr. Prenter. "The detectives will find the negro." + +"Will they?" Tom asked. "Then that will be something new, indeed. I've +seen detectives employed a good deal, Mr. Prenter, and generally all they +catch are severe colds and items to stick in on the expense account." + +"Oh, there are some real detectives in this country," contended Mr. +Prenter. "We'll engage some of them, too." + +"The expense of hiring detectives will be very large," murmured Mr. +Bascomb uneasily. + +"Yes, it will," agreed the treasurer with a laugh. "But never mind. It's +always my task to find funds for the company, you know." + +"Harry," Tom broke in, "just what did that negro look like?" + +"About six-foot-three," answered Hazelton, slowly and thoughtfully. "He +was broad of shoulder and comparatively slim at the waist. He must weigh +from two hundred and twenty-five to thirty pounds. As to age, I couldn't +tell you whether he was nearer thirty or forty years. From his agility I +should place him in the thirty-year class." + +"Any beard?" + +"Smooth-faced." + +"Scars?" + +"I couldn't see that much in the dark." + +"Color of his clothes?" + +"Some darkish stuff---that's all I can say." + +"Could you pick him out of a crowd of negroes?" + +"Not if they were all of the same height and weight," Hazelton admitted. + +"Do you think you ever saw him before?" Reade pressed. + +"I'm sure that I never have," Harry replied. + +"Then he wasn't one of our men in this camp at any time?" Mr. Prenter +interjected. + +"We have never had a man in the camp as large as this negro," Harry +rejoined. + +"Such a very large black man ought not to be hard for the detectives to +locate," Prenter continued. + +"Very good, sir. Then you can let the sleuths have a try at the matter," +Tom suggested. + +"Have you any telegraph blanks here?" + +Tom went inside, coming out with a pad of blanks. Mr. Prenter addressed a +dispatch to the head of a detective agency in Mobile. + +"We'll get the 'bus driver to take this over to town," said Mr. Prenter, +as he signed the dispatch. + +"You had better send your dispatch by Nicolas, who is so faithful that he +can't be pumped, and he never talks about things that he shouldn't." + +The Mexican was accordingly sent away in the stage. When he returned +Nicolas busied himself with getting supper and setting it on the table. +Superintendent Renshaw returned from the work in time to join the others +at table. + +"Mr. Reade, how are you going to protect the works to-night?" inquired the +superintendent. + +"I'm going to order Foreman Corbett and twenty men to night duty," Tom +answered. "The motor boat will also be out to-night. We'll have every +bit of the wall watched by men with lanterns." + +"What you ought to do," suggested Treasurer Prenter, "is to light the +breakwater up with electric lights. You have steam power enough here, and +with a dynamo you could supply current to the lights." + +"There's the expense to be considered," mildly observed President Bascomb. + +"The expense is a good deal less than having the wall damaged by more +explosions," said Prenter, rather sharply. "Reade, how long would it take +you to get an electric light service going?" + +"It ought not to take more than three or four days, sir, if we can pick up +a suitable dynamo in Mobile. But there's another point to be considered. +We very likely would have to obtain the permission of the Washington +authorities before we could run a line of lights out into the Gulf of +Mexico. You see, sir, so many uncharted lights might confuse the +navigators of passing ships." + +"Write Washington, then, and find out where you stand in the matter," +directed the treasurer. + +"Yes, sir; I'll do that," Reade agreed. + +"But don't order any electrical supplies until you've got an estimate of +the cost and have it approved by me," hinted President Bascomb. This +cautious direction made Mr. Prenter shrug his shoulders. + +Dinner finished, all hands went out to sit on the porch. Mr. Bascomb soon +began to ask questions about the camp, the housing of the men, and about +other details of the camp. + +"Although it is dark it's still early. Wouldn't you like to go over +through the camp with us?" proposed Tom. + +Mr. Bascomb agreeing, the whole party set out, only Nicolas remaining +behind to keep an eye over the house. + +Though he did not then suspect it Tom was on the threshold of more trouble +in the camp. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +INVITED TO LEAVE CAMP + + +Lanterns hung here and there on poles lighted the camp. Men who toil hard +all day do not usually want a long evening. Many of the men were already +inside their tents or shacks, preparing for bed. + +At least two hundred, however, were still stirring in the streets of the +camp. Tom led his friends near one of the groups. A warning hiss was +heard, and then a man in a remote group, urged by his comrades, rose and +staggered toward a shack. Tom was at the man's side in an instant. He +proved to be an Italian. + +"My man, you appear to be intoxicated," Tom remarked, quietly, as he +gripped the Italian by the arm. + +"No spikka da English," hiccoughed the laborer. As he spoke he tried to +free himself from the engineer's grasp. He staggered, and would have +fallen, had not Tom prevented the fall. + +"Where's this man's gang-master?" Tom demanded, looking about him sharply, +while he still held the drunken man. + +None of the Italians addressed appeared to know. For the most part they +took refuge in the fact or the pretense that they didn't understand +English. + +"Get an Italian gang-master, Harry," Tom murmured softly. + +Hazelton bolted away, but was soon back, followed by a dark-skinned man who +came with apparent reluctance. + +"You're a gang-master?" Tom demanded, looking sharply at the man. "This +fellow is intoxicated." + +"Is he?" asked the gang-master. + +"Yes, he is," Tom declared, bluntly. "Now, where did the man get the +liquor." + +"I do not know," replied the gang-master, shrugging his shoulders. + +"Then it's your business to know---if he got his liquor in camp. We won't +allow any of that stuff in camp, and you gang-masters all know that." + +"I can't stop a man from going to town to get liquor," argued the +gang-master. + +"No; you can't," Tom admitted. "Neither can I. But it's your duty, +gang-master, to see that no liquor is brought back into camp. This man +hasn't been to town for the stuff either. He hasn't had time enough to go +away over to Blixton and get enough liquor to make him drunk. Moreover, +in his present condition, the fellow couldn't have walked back from town +the same evening. This man got his liquor in camp, and it will have to be +stopped. Now, put this man in his shack; see that he gets into bed. Then +come back to me." + +The gang-master obeyed. + +"We'll see if we can't put a complete stop to this sort of thing," Reade +muttered. + +"Now, do you think it's going to be well to interfere so much with the +movements of the men?" asked President Bascomb, in an undertone. "I am +afraid that you'll only start more dissatisfaction and more treachery among +them." + +"This having liquor in camp is going to be stopped, sir," Tom insisted. +"A keg of liquor will demoralize a whole campful of men like these. They +are an excitable lot, and they go crazy when there's any liquor around. If +we don't put a stop to it, then there'll be fights, and then a few murders +are most likely to follow. I've had plenty of experience with men such as +we have here, and the stopping of liquor in camp means our only safety, and +our only chance to have our work well done. Come along; let the +gang-master follow us." + +Tom went directly up to a group of workmen who had been looking curiously +on. Most of them were Italians, but there were a few negroes present. + +"Now; men, gather around me," Tom requested. "I want to talk to you. +Come close." + +As they did so Reade rested a hand on the shoulder of a negro. + +"My friend," said Tom, "you've been drinking to-night." + +"No, sah, boss! 'Deed I hasn't," replied the negro, earnestly. + +"Man, don't you think I have a nose?" Tom demanded, dryly. "Every time you +open your mouth I smell the fumes of the stuff. There are other men in +this group, too, who have been drinking. I want you all to realize that +this sort of thing must stop in this camp. We don't want fights and +killings, nor do we want men who wake up so seedy in the morning that they +can't do a proper day's work. As I look about me I see at least eight men +who have been drinking this evening. That shows me that some one has been +bringing liquor into the camp." + +Other workmen were now approaching, curious to know what was in the air. + +Tom, glancing about him, suddenly, fastened his gaze on one man in +particular. This was a lanky, sallow-looking chap of some thirty years. + +"See here, just what is your errand in this camp?" Reade demanded, +confronting the man. + +"Is it any of your particular business?" demanded the fellow, with some +insolence in his tone. + +"Yes; it is," Reade assured him, promptly. "I'm chief engineer in this +camp, and I've asked you what you are doing here!" + +"Is it against any law for an outsider to come into camp?" argued the +stranger. + +"Answer me," Tom insisted, stepping closer. "What are you doing in this +camp?" + +"I won't tell you," came the surly retort. + +"You don't have to," Reade snapped, as he suddenly ran one hand over the +sallow man's clothing. Out of the fellow's hip pocket Tom briskly brought +a quart-bottle to light. It was about half-filled with some liquid. + +"Here, give that back to me!" growled the fellow. "It's mine." + +"I'm glad you admit it," rejoined Reade, drawing the cork and taking a +sniff as Hazelton slipped in front of him to protect him. "This is liquor. +So you're the bootlegger who is bringing this stuff into camp to sell to +the men? You won't come here after to-night if I can find any way of +keeping you out." + +Reade finished his remark by re-corking the bottle and throwing it down +hard on the ground. The bottle was smashed to flinders, the liquor running +over the ground. + +"Here, you! You had no right to do that!" roared the fellow. He made an +effort to reach Tom, but Harry gave the fellow a shove that sent him +spinning back. "You'll pay me for that stuff, Reade, since you destroyed +it." + +"How much?" asked Tom, artlessly. + +"A dollar and a half," insisted the stranger, coming forward as Reade +thrust one hand into trousers pocket. + +Tom withdrew the hand, laughing. + +"Much obliged, my friend," mocked the young chief engineer. "You've +confessed all that I wanted to know. You've tried to charge me the price +of a pint of liquor sold in single drinks. That confesses that you've been +in camp to sell liquor to the men. I shall pay you nothing, for you're +here against the law and against the camp regulations. You're engaged in +selling liquor illegally. If I catch you in camp again on that business, +my friend, I'll arrest you and hold you until the officers come over from +Blixton and take you." + +Then, in the next moment, Tom suddenly shot out: + +"Harry, see to it that our friend doesn't run away just yet!" + +"What are you up to?" demanded the man, as Tom stepped close once more, +while Harry rested a hand on his shoulder. + +"For a rather warm evening," Reade rejoined, "it strikes me that it's a bit +odd for you to be wearing a long top-coat. I'm going to look you over a +bit." + +"You get out and keep away from me!" blustered the man, raising one of his +fists. But Harry caught at that arm and held it. Treasurer Prenter, who +had been looking on with keen interest, seized the other arm. + +"You let go of me, or you'll run up against the law for assault!" warned +the stranger. + +His captors, however, held him, while Tom rapidly ran his hands over the +stranger's clothing. As a result, within less than a full minute, Tom had +removed two full quart bottles and six smaller ones from the fellow's +various pockets. All of these the young chief engineer threw on the +ground, smashing them. + +From the crowd gathered about, which numbered more than sixty men of three +different races, a howl went up. President Bascomb began to shiver. + +"I'll make you sweat for this!" raved the stranger. + +"Let go of the fellow, please," said Tom. Then, as Harry and Mr. Prenter +stepped aside, Reade added, "I'll admit, Mr. Bootleg, that I've behaved in +a rather high-handed fashion with you. But I'm justified in doing it. You +have been breaking the law of the state, moving through this camp and +selling liquor. You represent the scum of the otherwise decent population +of Alabama. If you think you've any redress in the courts, my name is +Reade and you can hire a lawyer and get after me as hard and as fast as +you like." + +"I'll take personal satisfaction out of you!" stormed the fellow. + +"All right," Tom agreed laconically. "You may start now, if you feel like +doing it. I'll agree that none of my friends or workmen shall take any +part in anything you feel like starting. If you can thrash me then you +shall be allowed to depart in peace after you've done it." + +Tom did not put up his hands, though he watched keenly to see whether the +stranger meant to attack him. The stranger muttered unintelligible +threats, then he turned to the laborers pressing about him. + +"Men," he demanded, "are you going to be free, or are you going to allow +yourselves to be treated like a lot of slaves by this boy?" + +"If that's all you've got to say," Tom warned "you may as well start now." + +"Start?" scoffed the sallow-faced one. "Where to?" + +"Anywhere, outside of this camp," Tom informed him. "You can't stay here +any longer, and you can't come here again. If I catch you, again, on this +company's property, I'll see to it that you're arrested, and locked up for +trespass." + +"That's the way to talk!" nodded Treasurer Prenter, approvingly. + +"I guess I'll go when I get good and ready," asserted the stranger. + +In the front ranks of the crowd pressing around them, Reade now discerned +the face of the Italian gang-master with whom he had talked recently. + +"What's your name?" Tom demanded, turning about on the gang-master. + +"Scipio, sir." + +"Then, Scipio, take four men, and escort this fellow out of the camp. +Don't use any force unless you have to, but see to it that this fellow +leaves camp as quickly as he can walk---or be dragged. Start him now." + +Gang-master Scipio plainly didn't like the job, but he liked it better than +he did the idea of being discharged. So he spoke to four Italians about +him, and the five surrounded the man. + +"Hol' on dar, Boss Reade!" spoke up a negro. "Ef yo' carry dis matter too +far, den dere's gwine to be a strike on dis wohk. Jess ez dis gemman sez, +we ain't no slaves. Yo' try to stop all our pleasures ebenings, an' dar's +gwine be a strike---shuah!" + +"You may strike right now, if you wish to," Tom retorted, facing the last +speaker. "Mr. Renshaw will be prepared to pay you off within hour. Any +other man in this camp who isn't content to get along without liquor and +gambling may as well strike at the same time. Mr. Renshaw, it's half-past +eight. At nine o'clock please be at the house ready to pay off any man who +isn't satisfied to live and work in a camp where neither drinking nor +gambling is allowed. Scipio, why haven't you started that fellow away from +here?" + +"Too bigga crowd in front of us," replied the Italian gang-master, +shrugging his shoulders. + +"Come on, Harry," Tom replied. "We'll see if we can't make a way through +the crowd." The two young engineers placed themselves at the head of the +squad, and succeeded quickly in opening up a passage through a crowd that +seemed to be at least half hostile. + +Thus Tom found himself soon face to face with an American. + +"Evarts!" Reade cried, angrily. "What are you doing here?" + +"I'm here by permission," snarled the discharged foreman. + +"Whose permission?" Tom insisted, briskly. + +"Mr. Bascomb's," replied Evarts, with a leer so full of satisfaction that +Reade didn't doubt the truth of the statement. + +"Mr. Bascomb," Tom called, "did you tell Evarts that he might visit this +camp?" + +"Yes; I did," admitted the president of the company, stiffly. + +"Then I'm sorry to say that Evarts has been misinformed," Tom went on. +"He _can't_ visit this camp. He's too much of a trouble-maker here." + +"Shut up your talk!" jeered Evarts roughly. "Don't try to give orders to +the president of the company that hires and pays you." + +"Mr. Bascomb is the head of the company that employs me," Tom assented. +"But I am in charge here, and am responsible, with Mr. Hazelton, for the +good order of the camp and the success of the work. Therefore, Evarts, +you'll leave camp now, and you won't come back again under pain of being +punished for trespass." + +"Oh, now see here, Reade---" began Mr. Bascomb angrily, as he started +forward. But Treasurer Prenter caught Bascomb by the arm, whispering in +his ear. + +"Waiting for you, Mr. Bascomb," called Evarts. + +"I guess you'd better go," called the president, rather shamefacedly, after +his talk with Mr. Prenter. "I guess maybe Reade is right. At all events +his contract places him in charge of this camp." + +"Humph, Evarts, a lot of good you can do us here, can't you?" sneered the +sallow-faced fellow. + +Tom looked first at one, and then at the other of the pair. + +"So," guessed Reade shrewdly, "Evarts has been at the head of this game of +unlawful liquor selling in this camp. There are other vendors here, too, +are there?" + +"You lie!" yelled the discharged foreman. + +"You may prove that, at your convenience," Reade replied, without even a +heightening of his color. "For the present, though, you're going to get +out of camp and stay out." + +"I called you a liar," sneered Evarts, "and you haven't the sand to fight +about it." + +"Fighting with one of your stripe isn't worth the while," Tom retorted, +shortly. "Come along, Evarts. I'll show you the way out of camp." + +As Reade spoke he took hold of the ex-foreman's arm gently. + +"Leggo of me!" raged the foreman, clenching and raising one of his fists. + +"Don't make the mistake of touching me," urged Tom, quietly, "but come +along. This way out of camp!" + +Evarts swung suddenly, driving a fist straight at Reade's face. But the +young chief engineer was always alert at such times. One of his feet moved +in between Evarts's feet, and the ex-foreman flopped down on his back. + +"Come on, now!" commanded Tom, jerking the fallen foe to his feet. "This +time you'll hurry out of camp." + +"Are you going to stand for it, men?" yelled Evarts, his face aflame with +anger. "Come on---all of you! Show that you're not a pack of cowards and +slaves!" + +From more than a hundred throats came an ominous yell. The crowd surged +around Reade and Hazelton. Mr. Bascomb, seeing his chance, dodged and ran +out of the crowd. But Mr. Prenter, with a spring, placed himself at Tom +Reade's side. + +"Come on, men!" yelled the sallow-faced fellow. + +"Run dem w'ite slave-drivers outah camp!" yelled a score of negroes. Yells +in Italian and Portuguese also filled the air. + +In an instant it was plain that Tom Reade had stirred up more than a +hornet's nest. + +"Come on, Harry," spoke Tom, firmly. "Let's run this pair out of camp. +Then we'll come back and look for more trouble-makers and trouble-hunters! +Make way there, men!" + +One excitable Italian rushed through the crowd, brandishing a revolver. As +alarmed men fell back, the Italian confronted Reade, holding the revolver +almost in the latter's face and firing. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE NIGHT IS NOT OVER + + +Tom winced slightly, as the pistol was discharged, for some of the powder +burned his face. + +Mr. Prenter, who stood beside him, had knocked up the barrel so that the +bullet sped over the heads of the crowd. + +In a twinkling Tom had hold of the Italian's arm. He wrenched the pistol +away, spraining the Italian's arm. Instantly Tom "broke" the weapon, +dropping the cartridges out into his pocket. Then he hurled the weapon as +far as he could throw it into the shadows of the night. + +"You breaka my arm!" snarled the Italian, showing his white teeth. + +"Your face is next!" Tom retorted, letting his fist drive. It caught the +Italian on the nose, breaking that member. + +"Kill him! Kill Reade!" came the hoarse yell on the night air. + +"You'll find it a tough job, men!" Tom called, warningly. "I won't die +easily, and I'll take a few men along with me when I go. Now, stand out +of the way! I shall consider any man an enemy who blocks my path!" + +Tom hit resolutely out, at first. Soon the men crowding about him began +to realize that they had taken a large contract on their hands in +attempting to cow this young engineer. + +Then, too, another element entered into the fight. While there were some +wild and troublesome men in camp, there were also many straightforward, +excellent fellows among them. There were church-going negroes there, +Italians who were thrifty and law-abiding, and Portuguese who loved nothing +better than law and order. + +The better element among the men came thronging forward, willing and ready +to fight under such excellent generalship as they knew they would find with +Tom Reade. + +Other men, of both stripes, came pouring forth from shanties and tents. + +The yells and the shot had alarmed the foremen, who now came along on +the run. + +"Dill, Johnson!" Tom called, as he saw some of the foremen trying to push +or punch their way through the throng. "Help me to run Evarts and this +other trouble-hunter out of the camp!" + +The menacing yells grew fewer and fainter as the cheers of loyal laborers +rose. + +The foremen seized both trouble makers and began to run them along with +more skill than gentleness. + +Tom ran along, keeping his glance on the enraged men of the camp, many of +whom followed on the outskirts of the crowd. Harry Hazelton occupied +himself in similar fashion. + +"Now, you get out of this---and stay out!" ordered Foreman Dill, giving +Evarts a shove that sent him spinning across the boundary line of the +company's property. + +"You, too!" growled Foreman Johnson, giving the bootlegger a kick that sent +him staggering along in his efforts to keep on his feet. + +It was rough treatment, but Tom's course, all through, had been of the only +sort that could break down the threatened riot. + +"Now, see if that Italian can be found who fired the shot in my face," Tom +called. "I'll know him if I lay eyes on him." + +There was a prompt search, but the Italian could not be found. + +"If he has left camp, and keeps away, perhaps he'll be safe," Tom +announced. "But, if I run across him again I'll seize him, hold him for +the officers of the law, and see to it that he's sent to prison for +attempted murder." + +"Here are two men we want!" called Hazelton. + +Tom ran to his chum, who was holding an American by the arm. Mr. Prenter +had hold of another. + +"Two more of Evarts's bootleggers, eh?" muttered Reade. "Let me see." + +On one of the men he found a bottle of liquor. On the other no liquor was +discovered. + +"Did Evarts pay you fellows a salary, or commission?" Tom demanded. + +"Commiss---" began one of the bootleggers, then stopped himself with a +vocal jerk. "Evarts? I don't even know who he is." + +"Yes, you do," chuckled Tom Reade. "You were on the point, too, of telling +us that he paid you a commission on your sales, instead of a weekly wage. +Now, my men, I've looked you well over and shall know you again. If I find +you in camp, hereafter, you'll be dealt with in a way that you don't like. +Savvy? Comprenay? Understand? Now---git!" + +"Now, men, get back to your camp," shouted Tom. "To-morrow I'll try to +find time for a good and sociable talk with all of you. Try to enjoy your +few leisure hours all you can, but remember that the men who can't get +along without liquor and gambling are the kind of men we don't want here. +Any man who is dissatisfied can get his pay from Mr. Renshaw tonight or +to-morrow morning. For those who stood by us I have every feeling of +respect and gratitude. Those who thought to fight us---or some of +them---will have better sense by tomorrow. We don't want to impose on +any man here, but there are some things that we shall have to stop doing. +Good night, men!" + +Engineers, superintendent and foremen now left the men, going towards their +barracks. + +"I've a little job for you, Peters, if you don't mind going back into the +camp," suggested Tom. + +"It's not to go back and fight, single-handed, is it?" Mr. Peters asked, +with a smile. + +"Nothing like it," Tom laughed. "Peters, we have plenty of really good men +among our laborers, haven't we?" + +"Scores and scores of 'em, sir---among all three kinds of the men, negroes, +Italians and Portuguese." + +"I wish you would go back, then, and pick out two of each race---six men +in all. They must be honest, staunch and able to hold their tongues." + +"Do you want them for fighting, sir?" asked Peters. + +"Not a bit of a fight in it. I want them to use their eyes and report +to me." + +"Going to employ spotters on the camp?" asked Mr. Prenter, quickly. + +"Not a single spot!" Tom declared with emphasis. "I haven't any use for +information turned in by spotters." + +"I'm glad to hear you say that, Reade," nodded the treasurer. + +"What I want the men for, Peters, is something honest and manly, and with +no fighting in it," Tom continued. "I want information, and I'll pay the +man well who can bring it to me. Now, go and get your six men. Bring them +up to the house within half an hour." + +Nodding, Peters turned and strode back. + +When the others gained the house where the engineers and superintendent +lived the foremen took leave of their chiefs. + +As Tom, Harry and Mr. Prenter went up the steps to the porch the front door +opened to let out Mr. Bascomb. + +"Is that revolting row all over?" demanded the president of the Melliston +Company. + +"What row?" asked Mr. Prenter, innocently. + +"That riot back in camp," shivered Mr. Bascomb. "I simply abhor all +fighting." + +"So I noticed," commented Mr. Prenter, dryly. "Yes; I believe the trouble +is over, unless our young chief engineer intends to stir up something new +before bedtime. Do you, Reade?" + +"I haven't anything in mind," Tom answered with a smile. "Gentlemen, I am +afraid you may think I do things with a high hand. But I have been at this +engineering business just long enough to know that I must banish all +serious vices from a camp of laborers if I hope to get the best results in +work out of the men. So I must tackle some problems rather stiffly, and +use my fists when I'm driven to a corner." + +"I am not thoroughly satisfied of the wisdom of your course," said Mr. +Bascomb slowly. + +"Sorry to disagree with you, Bascomb," broke in the treasurer, "but I've +had some experience in handling what is called wild labor, and I believe +that Reade goes at it in just the right way. I don't believe there are +really fifty really wild or troublesome men in that camp. The few bad ones +usually start trouble going, and then the good ones are driven into it. +Let Reade stop the vices over yonder, in the way that he wants to, and the +worst of the crowd will call for their time and leave camp. We shall then +have a thoroughly good lot of men left, who'll do more and better work." + +"That is," almost whined President Bascomb, "if Reade, in doing what he +wants, doesn't stir up so much enmity that we have the rest of our wall +blown out into the gulf." + +"Mr. Bascomb," put in Tom, "while I must have control of the men and their +camp I don't wish to do anything to cast reflection on yourself as the head +of the company. May I therefore ask, sir, if there is any especial reason +why Evarts should be allowed in this camp?" + +President Bascomb fidgeted in the porch chair on which he was sitting. + +"I---I don't know of any reason, Mr. Reade, why Evarts should be allowed +in camp if his presence prevents you from keeping order as you wish." + +"Then you approve, sir, of my intention to keep him out?" + +"I---I won't question your right to handle the matter as you wish, Mr. +Reade," was the president's evasive reply. + +"Thank you, sir." + +Peters was soon back with the six men---two each of the negroes, Italians +and Portuguese. All of them understood English. + +Harry described the negro who had attacked him on the retaining wall, after +which Tom asked: + +"Have any of you men ever seen that negro? Have you any idea who he is, +and where he can be found?" + +None of the six admitted any knowledge of the mysterious black man. + +"Then I want you to keep his description in mind," continued Tom. "Keep +your eyes open, at all times, for any chance glimpse of him. The man who +brings me information leading to the capture of that big negro will +receive a reward of one hundred dollars in gold." "Keep your eyes open, +won't you? You may find him prowling around the wall at any time. He +may walk out on the wall, or he may be found hiding near in a boat. Watch +for him." + +All promised eagerly that they would do all in their power to earn the +hundred dollars. + +"That's what I call good business!" cried Mr. Prenter approvingly, as +soon as the foreman and the men had gone. + +"Does the hundred dollars come out of the company treasury, Reade, or from +your own pocket?" inquired President Bascomb. + +"Really I hadn't thought of the matter," answered Tom. + +"The company can afford to pay its own bills," broke in Mr. Prenter, rather +gruffly. + +"It's about time to turn in, isn't it?" asked Mr. Bascomb, striking a match +and glancing at his watch. + +"I'm going to stay up a little longer, and talk with Reade about the dread +mystery of our million dollar breakwater, if he'll let me," hinted Mr. +Prenter. + +Mr. Bascomb rose as though to go into the house. + +"While we're talking about the matter, sir," suggested Tom, "wouldn't it +be a good idea for us to stroll down to the beach and look out along the +wall to see how Foreman Corbett and his gang are guarding the breakwater +to-night?" + +"Fine idea," nodded the treasurer of the company. + +"Then, if you're all going away, and intend to leave the house alone, I +think I may as well go with you," grunted Mr. Bascomb. "I don't exactly +like the idea of staying here alone in such troublesome times." + +Harry walked beside Mr. Bascomb, while Tom led the way with the treasurer. +Mr. Renshaw brought up the rear. + +As the party came in sight of the beach and glanced out seaward, they saw +many a little, dancing light out on the retaining wall. Each light showed +where a workman patrolled under the orders of Foreman Corbett. The latter +was aboard the motor boat, "Morton," which ran up and down near the wall, +throwing the searchlight over the scene. + +"Reade," remarked Mr. Prenter, "I don't see that the enemy have any chance +to-night to run in and work harm to our property." + +Hardly had the treasurer spoken when Tom, looking out seaward, saw a +sudden, bright flash of light upward. There was a brief pause---then the +sullen boom of an explosion reached their ears. + +"Mystery of all mysteries!" choked Tom Reade. "There goes another section +of the wall---blown up under our very eyes!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A MESSAGE FROM A COWARD + + +"Now Reade," began President Bascomb, in a shaking voice, "what can you +say---" + +Tom didn't wait to inform him. The young chief engineer was darting out on +the wall as fast as he could go. + +Already the "Morton" had turned, and was chugging back to the scene of this +latest outrage, the searchlight flashing back and forth, in the vain effort +to detect any small craft stealing away from the vicinity. + +"I---I can't race on a narrow runway like that," faltered Mr. Bascomb, +halting at the beginning of the narrow wall. "I---I'll wait here, Mr. +Renshaw, will you keep me company?" + +"If you so direct, sir," replied the superintendent. "For that matter, +what Reade and Hazelton can't find out, out yonder, will probably never be +discovered." + +"Do you share Mr. Prenter's infatuation for those two young men?" asked +the president of the Melliston Company. + +"I can't say about that, sir," Renshaw replied, with a puzzled air. "But +this much I know---I never worked with two more capable men of any age. +They always know what to do, and they never lose their heads." + +Mr. Bascomb compressed his lips tightly. + +In the meantime Tom, Harry and Treasurer Prenter covered nearly a quarter +of a mile along the retaining wall when the motor boat, putting about, +picked them up with the searchlight. + +Toot! toot! sounded the boat's pneumatic whistle. + +"Foreman Corbett is signaling to us to wait and he'll put in for us," said +Tom, coming to a halt. Soon the motor craft chugged in alongside, coming +close to the wall. Tom, Harry and Mr. Prenter jumped, landing safely +aboard. + +"How did the enemy come to catch you napping, Corbett?" Tom inquired +good-humoredly. + +"They didn't catch me napping, sir," protested Foreman Corbett. "It is the +strangest thing, sir---that explosion. Why, I had had my light turned on +that very part of the wall at least a dozen times in the last half-hour +before the blow-out came. Our light didn't pick up a soul around there at +any time. What do you suppose I did, Mr. Reade, as soon as the explosion +sounded?" + +"I saw you turn about and use your search light a lot," Reade answered. + +"Did you notice, sir, that I turned the light right up at the sky, +first-off?" + +"I believe I did notice that," Tom assented. + +"It seemed to me, sir, that nothing but an airship could plant a charge of +high explosive on the wall in that fashion." + +"I don't believe the airship theory will explain it either," said Tom, +shaking his head. + +"Then what theory can explain it?" asked Mr. Prenter, anxiously. + +"I'd pay a reward out of my own pocket for the right answer," Reade +replied. + +"Then you haven't a theory?" asked the treasurer. + +"Not even an imitation of a theory," Tom laughed, shortly. + +All this time the motor boat was gliding out toward the scene of the wreck. + +"Now, you can see the damage that has been done," suggested Mr. Corbett, +turning the light fully on the scene of the latest blow-out. "You see, a +long strip of the wall has been cleaned out. Not a trace of the damaged +part shows above water." + +"It wasn't as big an explosion as the other two, though," Reade declared. +"Really, it looks as though the folks behind this found themselves running +low on explosives." + +"There must be a trace or a clue left," urged Mr. Prenter. + +"High explosives don't leave many traces of anything with which they come +in contact," muttered Harry. "If we _do_ find any traces, I guess it will +have to be in broad daylight." + +"And I guess that's right," agreed Tom. "Mr. Corbett, did none of your men +patrolling on the wall report any signs of strangers?" + +"No such report was made, sir." + +"At all events, we can be thankful that the explosion didn't blow one or +two of our men into the other world," Tom went on. + +"Even that is bound to happen if there are many more of these explosions," +muttered Corbett, grimly. + +"Which is another reason," remarked Tom Reade, "why we're going to solve +the mystery of said explosions at the earliest minute that we can." + +"One thing is certain," observed Mr. Prenter, with the nearest approach to +gloom that he had yet shown. "If you don't soon penetrate this grim +mystery, and find a way to stop these outrages, then the wall will be +destroyed more rapidly than you can build it." + +"The outrages may cease after a while," suggested Harry. + +"No," answered Reade. "As long as the unknown enemy feels that he can +harass us without much risk of being caught red-handed, just so long will +he go on with his outrages---unless we give in." + +"Give in?" asked Mr. Prenter, with a rising inflection in his voice. + +"Unless we give in," supplied Tom promptly, "by allowing gambling and +rum-selling to go on openly in our camp of workmen." + +"Have you any notion of giving in to that extent?" asked Mr. Prenter. + +"Not an idea!" retorted Tom Reade promptly. "It wouldn't be my way to +surrender to the Devil. I'll fight to the last ditch---unless your +company really prefers to have Hazelton and myself cancel our contract and +get out of this work. Do you?" + +"_I_ don't want you to quit," replied Mr. Prenter positively. "I admire +fighting grit, and I want to see you keep hammering away at the work until +you win and the job is finished. The board of directors will stand with me +on that, if I can sway them. As for Mr. Bascomb, you mustn't take him too +seriously. He's a first rate fellow in a lot of ways, but there's no fight +in him, and he's a bit close-fisted, too. As for me, Reade, and as far as +I can speak for my fellow directors, go ahead, just the way you've started. +If you can find any way to hammer camp vice harder than you've been +hammering it, then go ahead and do some harder work with your little +hammer." + +"I'll do it," promised Tom. "Now, Mr. Prenter, I don't believe anything +more will happen here to-night---perhaps not for two or three nights. So +I think the wisest thing for you to do will be to get back to the house and +get some sleep. The same for you, Harry!" + +"What are you going to do?" Hazelton wanted to know. + +"I?" repeated Reade. "For to-night I'm going to remain up, and be out here +around this threatened wall." + +"Then that ought to be good enough for me, also," Harry suggested. + +"Not much, chum. I'm going to take the night trick for the present, and +put on you the burden of all the day work. So you'll need your sleep." + +"I can swing the day work easily enough," laughed Hazelton. "It will be +all the more easy as the next few days will be taken up simply with +repairing the breaks that have been made." + +"Swing the boat in toward land, Mr. Corbett," Tom directed the foreman. + +At the little landing Hazelton and Mr. Prenter joined the waiting president +and superintendent. + +"Did you really find out anything?" called Mr. Bascomb eagerly. + +"It's as big a mystery as ever." + +"There's just one thing we'll have to do," sighed Mr. Bascomb, "and that +will be to stop running the camp on a basis of old Puritan laws." + +"You talk Reade into it, if you can," chuckled Treasurer Prenter. "You +won't find him easy to convince, either." + +Tom didn't wait to discuss the matter. Instead, he signaled to Foreman +Corbett to run the craft out again. + +"If you want to, Corbett," suggested Tom, with a laugh, as the boat moved +over the salt waters again, "you might go ashore and go to bed. You can +easily claim that you engaged with us as a foreman, and that being captain +of a motor boat amounts to breach of contract." + +"I'm not fussing," smiled the foreman. "As long as I can sleep daytimes +running this motor boat is easier than working." + +"It probably will be," nodded Reade, "unless the enemy go in for a new +line of tactics." + +"Such as what, sir?" asked Corbett. + +"If this boat hampers them too much they may decide to send it to the +bottom with a torpedo." + +"Let 'em try, then," grunted the foreman, giving the steering wheel a turn. + +Though Reade remained up until broad daylight no further sign of the +unknown enemies was seen. Through the night, had it not been for the +patrols walking up and down the line of wall with lanterns, it would have +been hard to realize that the big breakwater was haunted by any such +desperately practical group of "ghosts." + +"I guess we've heard the last of the rascals," suggested Harry Hazelton one +night at supper. Messrs. Bascomb and Prenter had returned to Mobile, so +that the young engineers and their superintendent were the only men at +table. + +"My guess is about the same," drawled Mr. Renshaw. + +"Yes?" queried Reade. "Guess again!" + +"Oh, I believe they've quit," argued Mr. Renshaw. "For one thing, the +scoundrels probably have discovered that detectives from Mobile are down +here trying to run 'em to earth. That has scared the rascals away." + +"What are the detectives doing, anyway?" asked Harry. + +"Blessed if I know," Tom yawned. "I believe there are three of them here +or over in Blixton, but I wouldn't know one of them, if I fell over him. +The detectives came, secured their orders from Mr. Prenter, and went to +work---or pretended to go to work. I'm glad that I'm not responsible for +the detectives." + +Nicolas entered, an envelope in his hand. + +"Par-rdon, Senor Reade," begged the Mexican. "I would not interrupt, but +on the porch I found thees letter. It is address to you." + +Tom took the envelope and scanned it, saying: + +"The address is printed---probably because the writer didn't want to run +the risk of having his writing identified. Probably the letter, also, is +printed. Pardon me, gentlemen, while I open this communication . . . Yes; +the letter is printed, and unsigned---a further sign of cowardice on the +part of the writer. And now let me see what it says." + +Tom spent a few moments in going through the communication. A white line +formed around his mouth as he read. Then he passed the letter to Harry, +who read it aloud, as follows: + +_"You have had a week of peace. Is peace better than war? You may have +all the peace you wish, and go on working and prospering if you will let +others do the same. Stop interfering with the right of your men to amuse +themselves and all will be well. Try any of your former tricks in the +camp, and then you will have good cause to 'Beware!'"_ + +"Is that a declaration of war?" asked Harry, looking up. + +"I think so," nodded Tom. + +"Then how are you going to meet it?" + +"There's only one way," Tom returned. "A declaration of war must be met +with a fight. Unless I'm very greatly in error the gamblers and +bootleggers will try to start up matters again to-night in camp." + +"And you'll throw them down harder than before?" queried Mr. Renshaw, +gazing keenly at the young chief. + +"If it be possible," Tom declared. "Nicolas, be kind enough to go over +and ask the foremen to report here at 8:20 promptly. At 8:30 we will +enter camp and see what is going on." + +"I miss my guess, then," chuckled Mr. Renshaw, quietly, "if our arrival +isn't followed by war in earnest." + +"War is never so bad," retorted Tom Reade, his jaws setting, "as a +disgraceful peace!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AN ENGINEER'S FIGHTING BLOOD + + +Just at half-past eight that evening Tom, Harry, the superintendent and the +foremen entered camp. + +They went, first, to a shack which they knew to be occupied by orderly, +respectable blacks. + +"Come, men," said Tom, halting in the doorway. "I've an idea we may need +you." + +Six negroes rose and came forward. + +"There are gambling and bootlegging going on in this camp to-night, aren't +there?" Reade inquired. + +"Ah doan' rightly know, boss," replied one of the negroes cautiously. + +"But you suspect it, don't you?" Tom pressed. + +"Yes; Ah done 'spec so, boss," grinned the negro. + +"And I do, too," rejoined Tom. "Come along. We may need a little help." + +With this reinforcement---the negroes were wanted for work rather than for +fighting---Tom now stepped off briskly through the camp. + +Nor did he have to guess in which way to go through the darkened streets +of this little village of toilers. Shouts of laughter and the click of +ivory dice and celluloid chips signaled the direction. + +The largest shack in the village was closed tightly as to door and window, +though light came out through the chinks. Tom stepped over there boldly, +not turning to see whether his following were close behind him. + +Stepping up to the closed door the young chief engineer placed his shoulder +against it. He gave a sturdy push, and the barrier flew open. + +There were about fifty of his men crowded into one large room. A half +dozen gambling games were in full blast. At two tables stood bootleggers, +each with a bottle of liquor and glasses. + +Tom stalked boldly in, still without turning to look at his own following. +Reade's face bore such a mild look that the leader of the visiting +gamblers was wholly deceived as he glanced up. + +"The chief!" called one workman, in dismay, and a dozen men made a break +for the door. But Harry and the others prevented their getting out. + +"Oh, it's all right," cheerily announced the leader of the gamblers. "Mr. +Reade has just come here to look on and make sure that everything is being +conducted above board and on the square. Isn't that so, Reade?" + +"Yes," Tom assented, pausing near the central table at which gambling was +going on. + +At that assurance the panic-stricken gamblers breathed more easily. +Several men who had jumped up from their seats went back to their chairs. + +"Reade is a good friend of ours," called the leader of the gamblers, +mockingly. "He isn't going to interfere with any amusements that are +properly carried on---eh, Reade?" + +The fellow stared boldly into Tom's eyes, a look of insolent mockery on +his features. + +"Certainly I'm not going to interfere with any proper amusements in this +camp," Tom nodded, easily. + +"What did I tell you, boys?" laughed the leader of the gamblers. "Go on +with your play, boys!" + +"But gambling isn't a proper amusement for poor men, who have to toil and +sweat for every five-cent piece they get," Tom Reade continued calmly. +"Neither is the trade of bootlegging a decent one, or one that provides +decent amusement. I have already warned you that gambling and liquor +selling are things of the past in this camp." + +There was another stir in the room. The leader of the gamblers rose, +fixing his gaze on Tom's eyes and trying to stare the young engineer out +of countenance. + +"What do you mean, Reade?" he demanded. + +"Isn't my meaning clear enough?" Tom insisted, with a chilly smile. + +"Man, haven't you come to your senses yet?" snarled the gambler. + +"Do you mean to ask whether I was scared by the cowardly, unsigned letter +that I received this evening?" Tom fired back at the fellow, with another +taunting smile. + +"I don't know anything about any letter," muttered the gambler sullenly, +"but I heard that you had come to your senses." + +"Whether I have or not," retorted Tom, "you are pretty sure to come to your +proper senses to-night. Men---I mean workmen, not gamblers or +bootleggers---you are at liberty to pass out of this building." + +"Don't you go," shouted the gambler, as some two dozen men started toward +the doorway where Harry and the rest were on guard. + +Some of them halted. + +"I must have made a mistake in calling some of you 'men,' since you take +orders from such disreputable characters as these gamblers and +bootleggers," Tom taunted them mildly. "Now, all I will say is that those +of you who wish to do so may pass outside. The rest may remain here, +though they'll be sorry, afterwards, that they stayed. All who want to +get outside must do so at once." + +"Don't you do anything of the sort," shouted the gamblers' leader. "Stay +here like men and assert your rights! Come on! I'll lead you, and show +you how to throw these meddlers out." + +"You'll do it---just like this, eh?" demanded Tom Reade. + +He made a leap for the leader of the gamblers, catching the fellow by the +throat and waist. Lifting him, Tom hurled the fellow a dozen feet. The +gambler fell on one side, but was up in a moment, his right hand traveling +toward a hip pocket. + +"Don't draw," mocked Tom, with another smile. "Probably you haven't a +pistol there. If you have, you can never make me believe that you have +sand enough to draw and shoot before as many witnesses as I have on hand." + +"I've a good mind to drill you with lead!" scowled the gambler, still +resting his hand behind him. + +"But you're a wise man," mocked Reade, "and wise men often change their +minds." + +However, the very move of the gambler to draw a pistol had had one effect +that Tom ardently desired. Most of the workmen present were now in +frantic haste to get out before any shooting began. The two bootleggers +also sought to make their escape. + +"Get back there! You fellows can't get out!" Harry shouted, himself +seizing and hurling the bootleggers back into the room. They rose, glaring +sullenly at Hazelton. But they didn't know how many more men he might have +behind him out there in the dark. + +Tom Reade now had the six gamblers and the two bootleggers in the room +with him. + +"You're a nice crew, aren't you?" he jeered, gazing at them scornfully. + +"We're making our living," retorted the leader of the gamblers, with what +he meant to be a fine tone of scorn. + +"Making your living off of human beings! You're some of the parasites +that infest honest workingmen. I've drummed you out of this camp before, +and you have the cheek to come back. Now, I'll try to teach you another +lesson. Harry, send in our workmen, will you?" + +Hazelton stepped aside, to let in the half dozen honest negroes they had +brought along with them. These men entered, then stood looking at their +young chief. + +"Get hold of those cards, chips and dice!" ordered Tom. + +"Here, what are you trying to do?" demanded the leader of the gamblers. + +"You have the advantage of me," responded Tom. "I don't know your name." + +"Hawkins is my name," replied the chief of the gamblers. + +"Hawkins is a fine name," admitted Tom. "It will do as well as any other. +I won't annoy you, Hawkins, by asking you what your name used to be in +prouder and happier days." + +"What are these men doing with our outfit?" insisted Hawkins, as the +negroes began industriously to clear the surfaces of the tables. + +"You can see what they're doing," Tom rejoined. + +"You blacks get out and leave our property alone," warned Hawkins, darting +among them. + +The negroes drew back, in some alarm, for the gambler looked dangerous with +one hand at his hip pocket. + +"Go get on with your work, men," counseled Tom. "I'm here to back you up." + +"As for you, sir---" snarled Hawkins, facing Tom. + +"Don't look at me like that," laughed Reade softly. "Save that face to +frighten children with." + +The negroes had busied themselves until they had gathered up all the +implements of gambling and had stuffed them into their pockets. + +Now Tom went up to the bootleggers. Both men he boldly searched, bringing +forth from their pockets bottles of liquor. These he threw down hard on +the floor of the cabin, smashing them. + +"I don't know why we allow you to do all this, Reade," fumed Hawkins, whose +face was white with rage. + +"It's because you're afraid, and know that you can't help yourselves," Tom +smiled. + +"I'll show you who's afraid!" yelled Hawkins, again throwing his right +hand back to his hip pocket. + +This time Reade saw the unmistakable butt of a revolver. Without an +instant's hesitation. Reade leaped at the fellow. In a moment Tom had +the revolver, springing backwards. + +"Well---shoot!" jeered Hawkins. "You don't dare to." + +"You're right," assented Tom coolly. "I don't dare to. Assassination +belongs to the lowest orders of human beings. An honest man seldom has +any need of concealed deadly weapons." + +Tom stepped still farther back, breaking the revolver and dropping the +cartridges into one hand. Hawkins made a move as though to spring upon +him, but Harry leaped into the room, confronting the gambler. + +Thus shielded, Tom drew a combination tool-knife from one of his pockets, +then coolly drew out the screw that held the trigger in place. + +Dropping the trigger into his own pocket, Tom tossed the weapon back. + +"Catch it, Hawkins," he called. "You may want this to frighten some +children with over in Blixton. Now, Mr. Renshaw, I believe you know +what you're to do." + +"Yes, sir," nodded the superintendent, from the doorway, and vanished. + +"We'll take our leave, now," sneered Hawkins, "unless you have some further +humiliation in store for us." + +"Just one," Tom declared, "so you can't go just yet." + +"Oh, all right," Hawkins laughed fiercely. "You'll have to pay for this +unlawful detention." + +"You can tell the officers all about that," Tom suggested tantalizingly. +"Mr. Renshaw has just gone to telephone for them." + +"The officers? Police?" snarled Hawkins. + +"Yes. Did you imagine that you could keep on defying all the laws? You've +just threatened me with a taste of the law. You may try a taste yourself, +Professor Hawkins!" + +"Let us out of this place!" insisted Hawkins angrily. "Come on, friends!" + +He rallied his own force of seven men and started toward the door. + +"Of course you can try to get away," Reade warned the fellow. "But the +effort will cost you all broken heads, to say the least. I have placed +you all under arrest for breaking the laws of Alabama, and, before we'll +let you go, we'll break a few bones for each of you." + +Outside the workmen of the camp were thronging by this time. Doubtless, +had they dared, two or three score of these men would have fought in +behalf of the gamblers and bootleggers, but far more than that number +would have rallied under Tom Reade's banner, for it is human nature to +flock to the banner of the leader who is resolute and unafraid. Besides, +there were the foremen, all of them good, hard hitting men. + +"Oh, well," sneered Hawkins, "let it go at that, Reade. We'll have our +day in court tomorrow, and then. I guess we'll find our innings." + +"Yes," chuckled Tom, "and when you get your innings you'll be wild to swap +them for outings---for the innings will be in jail." + +"Don't push my temper too far," cautioned Hawkins with a scowl. + +"Let it go as far as you like, always being ready to take the +consequences," Tom smiled genially. + +There followed a period of tense waiting. After nearly a half an hour of +this a 'bus arrived, with four police officers from Blixton in it. Tom +Reade preferred his charges against the gamblers and bootleggers. The +officers had no choice but to take them, so the late troublemakers, now +amid jeers and hoots from many of the workmen, were led outside and into +the 'bus. + +"You'll hear from this!" hissed Hawkins, in the young chief engineer's ear. + +"I believe you," nodded Tom thoughtfully. + +After the police and their prisoners had gone Tom led his own party back +to the house. + +"You'd better get to bed now, Harry," Reade advised his chum. "There can +be no telling how soon I'll need to call you up, and you ought to have +some sleep first." + +"You look for trouble to break to-night?" Harry asked. + +"Between now and daylight," said Tom simply. + +"Whee! I'd like to stay up with you." + +"You might find more fun that way, Harry, but the work to-morrow would +suffer, and work is more important than mere fun," Tom answered. + +Nor was Tom to be disappointed in his expectation that the worst trouble +yet experienced would break loose that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +WISHING IT ON MR. SAMBO + + +"Oho!" breathed young Reade, as he crouched low behind the fringe of +bushes, peering toward the beach. + +It was now somewhat past midnight. For three hours Tom had been scouting +stealthily along this shore section, well to the west of the breakwater. + +For, in pondering over the explosions, Tom had come to the conclusion that +the blow-outs on the retaining wall, however accomplished, were controlled +from a point to the westward of the sea wall. + +This conclusion had been rather a simple matter to a trained engineer. +Tom had witnessed the flash of one explosion, and that, as he remembered, +had sprung up at the west side of the wall. Moreover, the appearance and +condition of the wall, at the point of each explosion, had shown that the +attack in each case must have been made at the west side of the wall. + +And now, after nearly three hours of work, Tom Reade had come upon a real +clue. + +"Another blow-out is arranged for to-night, just as I had expected," Reade +muttered, with an angry thrill, as he glanced at a figure down on the +beach. "Moreover, my guess that the huge negro is the fellow who touches +off the blow-outs has proved to be the correct one." + +Down on the beach a big, black man was moving about stealthily. Though the +spot was a lonely one, this scoundrel plainly intended to take no +unnecessary risks of detection. + +Just at the present moment the negro was placing in the water a +curious-looking little raft that he had brought on one shoulder from its +place of concealment. It was something like a flat-bottomed scow, the +sides being just high enough to prevent whatever cargo it carried, from +rolling off into the water. + +The raft placed and secured to the shore, the negro crouched in his hiding +place in a jungle of bushes. He soon reappeared, carrying four metal +tubes. + +"The explosive is in the tubes," guessed Tom easily. "And at one end of +each tube is a sharp metal point that permits of being driven into the +crevices in the wall. Four, or more, of these tubes are thrust into the +wall, I suppose, and connected in series, so that they can be fired by the +same electric spark. These tubes and the wires are water-proofed. The +negro is only the dastardly workman in this case. It was never he who +invented the trick. But he must be an excellent workman, who ought to be +employed in much more honest effort. I wonder if the fellow is going to +use more than four tubes?" + +All of these thoughts ran through the mind of Tom as he crouched, peering +eagerly at the negro. + +By this time the negro was taking to the water, towing his miniature scow +and its explosive cargo as he swam. + +"He must be a good swimmer, and also a good diver," concluded Tom. "With +my men patrolling the sea wall he must have to dive, some distance away, +swim under water, and remain there until he has secured one of the tubes +in place. Then he has to get back, out of range of the lanterns' rays, and +get his breath before he goes back to the next job. But maybe I can +interfere with his work to-night." + +Though he rose and moved away, Reade, despite the darkness of the night, +was careful to keep himself concealed behind the bushes, so that he could +not be observed from beach or water. Shortly the young engineer was over +at the point in the jungle from which he had seen the negro emerge with +scow and explosives. + +"The fellow must use a magneto, attached to wires running under the water," +concluded Tom. "At that rate, the first real job is to find the magneto. +My, but Mr. Sambo Ebony may be wondering, to-night, why his blow-out +doesn't work as easily as usual!" + +Simple as the search ought to have been, Tom Reade was soon on the point +of despair. + +"If it isn't a magneto, or if I can't find it in time," Tom muttered +uneasily, "the mystery may remain nearly as great as ever, and the +explosion may be pulled off to-night, after all." + +Twenty minutes passed before Reade, with all his senses alert, stumbled +on the concealed magneto. It had been so well hidden, under a mass of +rocks, that it would not have been astonishing had Tom missed it +altogether. + +Attached to the magneto was the wire that must connect, in some way, with +the series of tubes that would soon be fastened in the retaining wall out +yonder. Yet this wire ran into the ground, and then vanished. + +"Now, I've simply got to hustle!" sighed Tom Reade nervously. "If I don't +succeed in raising the wire, and in a mighty short space of time, I may be +to-night's fool yet. I'd really like to wish that on the black man, too!" + +By using his eyes and his reasoning powers Reade, after twenty minutes more +of search, with some sly digging, unearthed a section of the wire some +dozen feet from the magneto. + +"Now, it must be really the swiftest sort of work," murmured the young +engineer, after a glance seaward. He seated himself with his face turned +toward the Gulf, gathered the exposed section of wire up into his lap, then +drew a pair of wire nippers from his pocket. + +Snip! Tom now had two ends of wire in his hands. That would have been +enough, had Reade chosen to bury the ends and conceal all evidence of his +work. However, he believed that a more workmanlike way could be found. + +From the same pocket Tom drew out a three inch piece of pure rubber cable, +wrapped in water-proof tape. This he fastened to the severed ends of the +wire, binding the whole as neatly as a lineman could have done. + +"Rubber is believed to be a pretty good insulator," chuckled Reade, as he +finished. "I don't believe the spark is made that can jump three inches +of rubber. Certainly magneto-power can't do it. Now, let me see what sort +of a trail-concealer I am." + +Tom laid the wire back in the ground, covering it carefully with his hands. + +"I wish I dared strike a match, so that I could judge better just how my +work looks," he sighed. "However, I don't believe Mr. Sambo Ebony will +think it discreet to strike any matches either, so he won't find the place +where I've been fooling with his work. + +"Now, I'll get back out of sight, where I belong," muttered Tom, rising +cautiously. "I hope, though, I can find a place where I can see the look +on that darkey's face when he tries his magneto and waits for the bing! +from out yonder. Oh, Sambo, you simply can't have any idea of how I've +been wishing it on you tonight!" + +As the bushes grew thickly hereabouts, and there were many hollows in the +surface of the earth, Reade had little trouble in finding what he believed +to be a satisfactory hiding place. It enabled him to hide his head within +fifteen feet of the handle of the magneto. + +A soft, southerly wind blew in from the Gulf. As long as he could Reade +fought drowsiness. Again and again he opened his eyes with a start. + +"I mustn't do this," Tom told himself angrily. "No gentleman will go to +sleep at the switch---when it's his train that is coming!" + +Yet still he found himself nodding. Had he deemed it safe Tom would have +sprung up and walked about briskly. But this, he knew, was to invite +being discovered by the returning negro. + +So, at last, despite himself, Tom fell asleep. + +How much time had passed he never knew. At last, however, he awoke with a +start. Reproachfully he rubbed his eyes. + +"Not a bit too soon!" he muttered, as his ears caught sound of an +approaching step, and his eyes showed him the hulking form of the massive +foe. "Here comes my black man!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE BLACK MAN'S TURN + + +Closer to the earth Tom tried to burrow. As to a plan, Tom Reade had none +now, save to watch, and, if possible, to learn something that he did not +already know. + +Soft-footed, despite his great bulk, the negro approached with an air of +little concern. Plainly, the wretch did not much fear discovery---still +less interference. + +Humming an old plantation melody the negro reached his concealed magneto, +then stood up for a brief moment, staring seaward in the direction from +which he had just come. His garments dripped water; his whole appearance +was bedraggled, yet there was something utterly shaggy, majestic, in this +huge specimen of the human race. + +"Ah done reckon dem gemmen gwine lose some mo' of deir wall to-night," +chuckled the negro softly. + +"Go as far as you like, Mr. Sambo Ebony!" grinned Tom Reade, under his +breath. "I've wished something else on you this time." + +Carelessly the negro bent over his magneto, seized the handle and gave a +push. + +Then he straightened up, listening. Only the soft sighing of the southern +wind came to his ears. + +"Yo' shuah done gotta use a mo' greasy elbow dan dat, chile," chuckled this +imp of Satan aloud, though in a soft voice that seemed out of all +proportion to his bulk. + +Then he gave a half dozen indolent though steady strokes to the handle of +the magneto. + +"Whah am dat 'splosion?" he asked himself in wonderment. "Am mah eardrum +done gone busted? Moke, yo' am plumb lazy this night!" + +This time the huge negro pumped at the handle of the magneto until he was +all but out of breath. Several dozen shoves he had administered before +he halted, let go of the magneto and raised himself to his full, majestic +height. + +"Some black witch hab done gwine wish a big hoodoo on me!" grunted the +negro suspiciously. "Dis am do fust time dat de magernetto gwine back +on me like dis!" + +In his bewilderment the one whom Tom had named Sambo glared around him. +His eyes gleamed with a phosphorescence like that which one sees on the +water on a lowering night. What Reade did not know was that this black +man possessed eyes that were a little keener in the dark than a bat's. + +With a sudden "Woof!" Sambo went up in the air, moved sideways, and came +down on the startled Tom Reade with the force of a pile driver. + +"Wha' yo' doing heah?" demanded the negro, gripping Reade by the coat +collar and dragging that hapless engineer to his feet. + +Tom did not answer. To save his life he couldn't have answered just then, +his breath utterly gone. + +"Wha' yo' want heah, anyway?" insisted Sambo, giving the youth a vicious +shake. + +There was blood before the negro's eyes, or he would sooner have +recognized his victim. But at last he did see. + +"So, I'se gwine cotch Mistah Reade himself!" snorted Sambo. "An' Ah +reckon I'se gwine foun' de differculty wid my magernetto at de same +time! Huh?" + +Again he shook Tom, with an ease and yet a force that further drove the +breath from the young engineer's body. + +"Why doan' yo' talk!" glared the negro, holding Tom out at arm's length +with one hand. + +Tom could only groan. Yet that method of communication carried its own +explanation to the big black. + +"Reckon yo' gwine talk w'en yo' get gale enough in yo' lungs," grinned the +negro. "In dat case Ah gwine lay yo' down on de groun' to fin' yo' breff." + +Sambo's idea of laying Tom down was to give him a violent twist that +brought the lad flat on the ground at his captor's feet. Then the negro +sat on his captive to make sure that the latter did not escape. + +"Take yo' time---ah got plenty," grimaced the black man. + +Slowly the beaten-out breath came back to Tom Reade. Sambo, watching, knew +finally that his quarry was at last able to talk. + +"Wha' yo' do to mah magernetto?" demanded Sambo. + +"Guess," breathed Tom. + +"Oh, take yo' time, boss. Ah got plenty ob dat accommerdation" + +"What magneto are you talking about?" Reade queried innocently. + +"Nebber heard ob it befo', eh, boss?" + +"I've heard of plenty of magnetos, of course," admitted Tom. "But what +have you to do with one?" + +For a brief instant Sambo was almost inclined to believe that Reade did +not fully know his secret. Finally it dawned on the brain of the big +black man that he was being hoaxed. + +"Ef yo' doan wanter tell, yo' doan hab to, ob co'se," proposed Sambo. "It +ain't mah way to be too persistency wid de w'ite quality gemmen. But Ah +done thought maybe yo' know somethin' dat yo's burnin' to tell." + +"Who are you, and what are you doing around here?" asked Tom. "I'm certain +you don't belong to my force of workmen---unless you just joined +yesterday. Are you working on the breakwater job?" + +"Yessah," promptly answered Sambo with momentary gravity. Then his mood +changed to a chuckle. + +"Dat am all right, Massa Reade," he allowed. "But yo' doan' fool dis +nigger as easy as yo' maybe think. Ah know what yo' watchin' me fo', +and Ah done know I'se been doin' jess w'at yo' think. So I guess we +doan' need no mo' conversationin', unless yo' willing to talk right out +and tell me w'at's w'at." + +"Sambo," said Reade solemnly, "I imagine I'm not very intelligent, after +all. I listened to you attentively, but, for the life of me, I couldn't +make out what you were talking about." + +"Kain't yo'?" the negro demanded, mockingly. "Den Ah done reckon Ah must +be a good deal of a scholar, ef Ah can talk so dat er w'ite quality gemmen +kain't undahstan' me." + +Mr. Sambo Ebony chuckled gleefully in appreciation of his own joke. + +"There's one thing I guess you can tell me, Sambo," Reade suggested +hopefully. + +"W'at am dat, massa?" + +"When are you going to change your seat and stop making me feel like a +very thin pancake?" + +"W'en Ah done get mah mind made up." + +"When you have your mind made up about---what?" + +"About w'at I'se gwine do wid yo', Massa Reade." + +"Well, what do you think you're going to do with me?" insisted Tom. "I'll +admit, Sambo, that I'm about losing my patience. Unless you get up off +of me soon, and move away to a respectful distance, I shall be obliged to +do something on my own account." + +"Go as far as yo' like, massa," returned the negro, unmoved. "I'se boun' +ter admit dat yo' done got me fo' curiosity. W'at yo' done think yo' +_can_ do?" + +Plainly the negro meant to go on having sport with him. Tom decided that +it would be of no use to try to deceive this great mountain of black +flesh. So Reade, who had been doing some brisk thinking during the last +few moments, gave a sudden heave---a trick that he retained from the old +football days. + +Much to Sambo's surprise he found himself going. Yet the black man was as +agile as he was big. He leaped to his feet, bounding one step sideways, +while Tom, who had been watching for this very chance, sprang to his own +feet. + +"Not so fas', massa!" mocked the big black, reaching out and taking a +strong clutch on. Tom's coat collar. + +Reade would have squirmed out of his coat and placed more distance between +them, but Mr. Ebony, with a stout twist, gathered the two ends of the coat +collar, holding the young engineer as though in the noose of a halter. + +Quick as a flash Reade struck out with his right fist for the black man's +belt-line. Had the blow landed even the huge Sambo would have gone down +to earth. But the negro parried with his own disengaged fist, then gave +a twist to the coat collar noose that made Reade turn black in the face +from choking. + +"Ah might as well tell yo'," Sambo observed dryly, "dat yo' ain't done +got no new fight tricks dat yo' can wish on me. Ah done seen all de +tricks of fightin' dat any man done know, an' Ah nebber yet seen no man +dat could put any kind oh a blow ober on me to hurt!" + +The negro spoke boastfully, yet there could be no doubt that he believed +all he said. + +Tom Reade next schemed to land a hard kick against the negro's shins. Ere +he had his foot well lifted, however, the watchful Sambo seemed to divine +the intent. He gave a quick twist at the coat collar that made Reade's +head swim. It was some time before the young engineer's head recovered +from that sudden confusion and blackness. + +"Am' yo' gwine beliebe dat yo' kain't wish no kind oh a trick ober on me?" +demanded the black man in an injured tone. "Ah nebber seen no odder w'ite +man dat had such a ha'd time beliebing w'at Ah done tole him!" + +"I've got to land this wicked brute, some way, or I may as well conclude +that the jig is danced through, as far as I am concerned," Reade thought +ruefully. + +Panting, quivering, in dread of being choked again, and much harder, Tom +tried to think fast in the effort to devise some new plan for worsting +this terrible opponent. + +"I've been fooling myself all along," Tom told himself, with a sinking +heart. "I've been up against several men who were too weak or too cowardly +to fight, and I've somehow gained the opinion that I could fight. But +this black fellow has taken all the conceit out of me. I was a fool ever +to think that I could fight! I'm nothing but a piece of jelly---or putty!" + +Of a sudden Reade tried to wrench himself free at the collar, at the same +time raising his right knee with a forceful jerk. He wanted to drive that +knee into the black man's wind. + +But Sambo seemed to guess the plan without trouble. He gave a twist that +choked Tom, once more, until all went black before him. Then the negro +slammed his victim down hard on the ground, well-nigh stunning the young +engineer. + +"Ah done see w'at Ah gotta do wid yo'," Sambo announced. "Ah gotta tie +yo' up, load yo' pockets wid rocks, and den take yo' out in de Gulf ah' +lose yo'! Dat's w'at Ah gotta do, an' Ah ain' gwine lose no time about +it either." + +Sambo was in earnest, too. He had mapped out that very course! + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A DAVID FOR A GOLIATH + + +From his pockets the big fellow brought out a coil of stout cord. Without +much trouble he slipped a noose over one of Tom's wrists. Then began an +active fight, the object of which, on the black man's part, was to make the +other wrist secure. + +But here Tom developed an amount of agility and a skill in fighting that +angered Sambo. + +"Doggone yo', ef yo' won't take it peaceable-like, den yo'll get it do +odder way." + +With that, Sambo delivered a blow that made young Reade see stars. His +head swam dizzily. Now, the black man secured the other wrist, making a +turn and a knot that would have done credit to an expert. + +But about that time something else happened. Whack! A blow from a club +landed across the negro's head. + +"Who doin' dat?" demanded the negro, blinking and half turning. + +"I did eet, you miser-r-r-rable black smoke, and I do eet again!" rang +the voice of Nicolas, as that valiant Mexican circled around the negro. + +"Yo' blow away, yaller baby!" jeered Sambo, whose head had been not at +all hurt by the blow. + +"I show you eel I run away!" bridled up Nicolas. + +Tom now began to recover enough to know that his faithful servant was on +the scene. + +"Scoot, Nicolas!" urged Tom, in a gasping Voice. "Run for all you're +worth. This fellow will eat you up. Run and bring help." + +"Senor, I can wheep him with one hand!" vaunted the little Mexican. + +"Run, I tell you, and get help. Be like a flash, man!" + +"As you say, Senor, but---" + +Nicolas turned, speeding away. + +His escape, however, would interfere, possibly, with the plans of Sambo. +The big black leaped up, racing after Nicolas. + +As the Mexican was a little fellow, and short of leg, it was not long +before the pursuer caught up with him. + +"Hol' on, yo' yaller rascal!" laughed Sambo, reaching out for the Mexican. +Nicolas wheeled about, dancing out of reach of the negro's massive hands. + +"Stand still, yo' li'l' Greaser!" laughed Sambo. + +"Now you have insult me, and I show you what I do to you!" snarled Nicolas, +his brown face aflame at the taunting word, "Greaser." + +"Come heah!" jeered Sambo, making a bound and reaching for the small man. + +Nicolas dodged, but he did not run away. Instead, he bobbed up inside of +the negro's reach. The Mexican thrust out his slim, sinewy right-hand +forefinger. A vicious poke he gave with it, landing sharply on a spot +just about an inch and a quarter below the base of the negro's breast bone. + +"Woof!" panted Sambo, half doubling, for Nicolas had touched a tender spot. + +"You have insult me! You call me mean name!" raged Nicolas. "Stand steel, +you big black smoke!" + +Again Nicolas ducked and rushed in. Once more he employed his forefinger +tip in the same fashion, and with more power. + +"O-o-o-o-o-h! Wow!" gasped Sambo, this time doubling nearly to the ground. +"Get away, chile! I doan' wan' no mo' ob yo'!" + +"You have insult," insisted Nicolas angrily, "and I do much more yet to +you." + +This time the negro appeared almost helpless. Nicolas danced about, +looking for an opening. In desperation Sambo struck out with his powerful +left. It gave the Mexican the chance he wanted. Darting in, he repeated +his trick for the third time. + +The bulky negro lay down, groaning. He had too little breath left to be +dangerous. + +While this was going on Tom Reade had rolled over on his face. From this +position he succeeded in getting to his knees. Then he rose and hastened +toward the Mexican. + +"Nicolas, you're surely a little terror!" Reade admitted, admiringly. +"Now, untie my hands and we'll take care of Sambo." + +"Wait---jus' one leetle moment, Senor," begged the Mexican. He turned +back to Sambo, that forefinger ready for another jab. + +"Fo' de lub ob goodness---" gasped Sambo. But Nicolas was determined. He +made the jab, and Sambo all but lost the little breath that was in him. + +"Now, Senor, we do it all in one second," proclaimed the Mexican. From +his pocket he drew a knife, springing the blade open. Snip! snip! and the +young engineer was free of his lashings. + +"There's plenty of this cord left," declared Tom. "We'll fix up our black +friend." + +"Do not use that word, Senor," implored Nicolas. "He is _no_ good! He +is scoundrel! He call me Greaser, an' I will keeck off his head for eet!" + +"Wait until we get him tied," Tom proposed. + +Sambo, by this time, had gained strength enough to sit up. He was +wondering whether he could rise to his feet and sprint away from this +dangerous little fury of a Mexican. + +"Wait, you black cloud!" cried Nicolas. "I will put you down again!" + +"Yo' get away from me---please do!" begged Sambo, recoiling in terror. + +"Sambo," laughed Tom, "Africa shouldn't have stirred up Mexico as you did. +Now, lie down on your face, place your hands behind you, and I will +persuade him to let you alone." + +Sambo hesitated. + +"Let me at him, Senor!" begged Nicolas, maneuvering forward, his right hand +ready. "He is _no_ good, I tell you! But I feex him!" + +With a yell Sambo Ebony flopped over on his face, placing his hands behind +his back. + +"Let him alone, Nicolas, as long as he minds," ordered Reade, catching the +excited Mexican by the collar. "Only, if he shows signs of making trouble +then sail into him fast." + +No sign of trouble, however, was there in Sambo. He lay as meek as a lamb +while Tom used a lot of the spare cord in taking sundry hitches around the +negro's wrists. + +"I don't believe he'll get out of that," said Reade grimly, "Now, we'll +fix his feet." + +This, too, was done, and Sambo lay helpless on the ground. + +"You'll make a fine-looking jailbird, my friend," mocked Tom, looking down +at the prisoner. "Nor did any man ever better deserve the striped suit +that the State of Alabama will present you. Now, Nicolas, I'll stay and +watch this black treasure while you run and find help." + +"Senor, you go yourself," begged the Mexican. "The men will obey you more +queeckly than they would me." + +"Oh, you find some of the men and tell 'em to come here to get the fellow +who has been blowing up the wall, and they'll come fast enough," smiled +Tom. + +"But, Senor, suppose thees scoundrel free himself?" + +"I won't let him, Nicolas." + +"But eef he do?" persisted the Mexican. "Then, as I have shown you, Senor, +I can take fine care of heem!" + +"There's something in that, too," laughed Tom. "Nicolas, I don't believe +it will be risking you any if I leave you here. Besides, I won't have to +be gone very long." + +"If this black scoundrel he get restless, Senor, I will amuse heem with my +forefinger." + +Sambo groaned; Nicolas grinned. + +"All right," Tom Reade laughed. "I'll be back as soon as I can." + +Away he raced at a dog-trot, chuckling. The contrast between bulky Sambo +and little Nicolas and the big negro's comic fear of the slim little +fellow kept Reade laughing. + +"But where on earth did Nicolas learn that trick?" Tom wondered. "I shall +have to get him to show it to me. Plainly that trick is worth more than +all the muscle that I spent so many years in piling on." + +Tom headed his course for the shore end of the wall. Here he would find +men in abundance. Moreover, now that the big black was a prisoner the men +would hardly be needed on the wall. + +"I think I know just how Sambo worked it, too," the engineer reflected, as +he ran. "He swam out into the Gulf, towing that little scow behind him. +Neither his black head nor the little scow would be seen far on the water +on a dark night. Sambo, when he got near enough, could take one of the +metal tubes, swim in under water to some point where no watchman was near, +and stick the tube fast into the wall. Then another tube, and +another---all under water where they would not show to a passing watchman. + +"Then, when he had all in place, and while no patrolling watchman was too +near, Sambo could begin to attach the wires. That would take but a few +minutes. Whenever any one came too near Sambo had but to swim out a little +way and tread water until he could return to his job. When, at last, all +was complete, Sambo would attach a wire from the bombs to a wire moored at +a stated point under water, and then swim in, work his magneto, and touch +the whole thing off from a safe hiding place on shore. The explosion +itself would shatter the last length of wire. Oh, but it was all slick +and easy!" + +Not increasing his speed, but keeping steadily at the jog-trot, Tom was at +last near enough to the wall to raise his voice and shout. + +"Hullo!" came back the answer. + +"This is Reade, the chief engineer," Tom answered, through the night. +"We've caught the fellow that has been blowing up the wall. A half a +dozen of you men hurry over here with your lanterns. Come on the run." + +The man who had answered summoned several of his comrades as quickly as he +could. As the men had to come in from the wall, however, it took a little +time. Then six men reported, almost breathless, to Reade. Still behind +them came Corbett on the run, summoned from the boat. + +"What's this I hear, Mr. Reade?" puffed the foreman. "You've solved the +mystery and caught the fellow who has been dynamiting the wall?" + +"Got him and he's tied up, waiting for his ride to jail," Tom chuckled. + +"How did it happen, sir?" asked Corbett, staring with his eyes very wide +open. + +"I caught the fellow---a huge giant of a negro, the same fellow who got +Hazelton the other night," replied Tom. "But before the fight was over the +black 'got' me, instead, and had me tied up. Then Nicolas came along and +put the negro out of the fight, and---" + +"Nicolas?" demanded Foreman Corbett incredulously. + +"Yes. Nicolas proved himself to be the most fiery little bunch of fighting +material that I have ever seen," laughed Reade, as they walked rapidly +along. + +"How could that Mexican wallop a giant?" + +"I'll ask Nicolas to show you, to-morrow," Tom laughed mischievously. +"But, Corbett, I believe that four bombs are even now attached to some +part of the retaining wall, ready to be set off. + +"Great Scott!" + +"They won't be set off, though," continued Reade. "I found the firing +magneto, and had a chance to cut the wires." + +The foreman wanted to ask more questions, while the half dozen workmen +trudged along close at their heels, eager to hear every word. Tom, +however, suggested that they save their breath in the interest of speed, +until they had Mr. Sambo Ebony in safe custody. + +"Here we come, Nicolas!" Tom called, as the party neared the spot where +captor and captive had been left. + +There was no response. + +"Nicolas!" Tom called again, with a start. + +Still no answer. + +"I don't like the look of that," Reade uttered. "Let's get there on the +sprint!" + +Tom himself caught at one of the lanterns, leading the way. Neither the +negro nor the Mexican was where the young chief engineer had left them. + +Feverishly, Tom began to search the ground, holding his lantern close. + +"Hang the luck!" he quivered, pointing to fragments of cord on the sand. +"That negro simply burst his bonds---and now where is he? Where is +Nicolas, for that matter? I thought the little fellow, with his trick, +could easily take care of the big black." + +But, though they spread out and searched, there was no sign of either the +negro or the little brown man. + +"I can't understand what has happened," quivered Tom Reade, thinking more +of the staunch little Mexican than of the loss of the prisoner. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A TEST OF REAL NERVE + + +"What an idiot I was not to stop to consider that Sambo Ebony could snap +those cords!" groaned Tom, staring disconcertedly about him. "Yet, if +Nicolas were safe I wouldn't so much mind the escape of the black. I shall +see him again, and I shall know him wherever I see him." + +"Let's look for the trail," proposed Foreman Corbett, holding one of the +lanterns close to the ground. + +The trail, however, was easy neither to distinguish nor to follow. + +"We may as well leave here and search farther," concluded the young +engineer. "Before we go, though, we'll get the magneto and take it with +us." + +Then the procession turned toward the land end of the retaining wall. + +"If Nicolas doesn't show up soon," Tom murmured to the foreman, "I shall +notify the Blixton police and offer a reward for news of him. That little +fellow is too faithful to be left to his fate." + +"What would the negro want of Nicolas?" queried the foreman. + +"Revenge," Tom replied. "It makes a big bully like him furious to be +handled the way Nicolas treated him. But I can't understand how Nicolas +failed to repeat his clever trick with the black." + +Arrived at the water front the magneto was dumped into the motor boat. + +"Seems to me I would smash that thing all to pieces," Suggested Foreman +Corbett. "It has done harm enough around this wall." + +"I don't believe in destroying anything that is useful," Reade answered, +shaking his head. "Besides, we are going to capture Sambo yet, and then +we shall want that magneto for evidence." + +"What are you going to do to find Nicolas?" Corbett wanted to know. + +"I wish I had even an idea," Tom sighed. "Corbett, I wish you would hurry +over to Blixton and rout out the police. I've an idea that Sambo may have +a hiding place in the town. Nicolas, too, may have been taken that way. +I'll sit down and write out a good description of the rascal." + +This Reade did, handing the paper to the foreman. + +"Who'll take charge here? Corbett asked. + +"I will, until you get back, but hurry." + +As soon as the foreman had gone Tom stepped into the motor boat, taking +the wheel. + +"Tune up the engine, Conlon," Reade directed the engine tender. "I'm going +to take a run around to the west side of the wall. I'm going to try to +find the tubes of high explosive that I'm satisfied were planted in the +wall." + +"That's a fine job for a dark night, sir," grumbled Conlon. "Suppose we +run into the bombs, and they prove to be contact exploders, too?" + +"That's one of the risks of the business," Tom retorted grimly. + +Before the motor boat had gone far Tom called one of the men aboard to take +the wheel. Then the young chief engineer began to experiment with the +searchlight. + +"What's the idea, sir?" asked Conlon, looking on. + +"I want to depress the light, so that we can use it to look down into the +water." + +"And try to find the bombs?" + +"Exactly," Reade nodded. + +"Lucky if we don't find the bombs with the keel of the boat," observed +Conlon. + +Tom succeeded in rigging the light so that he could use it. By the time +that the boat was around at the west side of the retaining wall Tom ordered +the boat in close alongside. Then, with the depressed searchlight he +discovered that he could see the sides of the wall to a depth of some eight +feet under the surface. + +"That may be enough for our needs," Reade murmured. "Now, run the boat +along, slowly and close. I want to scan every bit of the wall." + +Less than five minutes later Tom Reade, one hand controlling the +searchlight and peering steadily into the water, sang out: + +"Stop! Back her---slowly. There, come back five feet. So! Hold her +steady!" + +As the engine stopped Conlon stepped forward, kneeling by Reade's side. + +"There are the bombs, man!" cried Tom exultantly. "See them---the two +upper ones?" + +"I see something that gleams," admitted Conlon. + +"Well, we'll have them up and aboard in a hurry. Then you'll see just +what they are." + +"You're not going to try to raise the things with the boathook, are you?" +queried the engine tender, a look of alarm in his eyes. + +"That might be risky," admitted Reade. "I'll go over the side after them +and bring them up. + +"Don't, Mr. Reade!" urged Conlon with a shiver. "That'll be worse still. +You're likely to blow yourself into the next world!" + +"I think not---hope not, anyway," answered Tom steadily. "Have you a pair +of pliers in your tool box that'll cut small wires?" + +"Yes," replied Conlon. + +"Get them for me." + +Reade removed his coat, shoes and socks, then took the pliers. + +"Let one of the men jump ashore with the boathook and hold the boat +steady," was Reade's next direction. + +This being done, Reade deflected the searchlight for one more look into the +water. Then, the pliers in his right hand, he mounted to the rail of the +boat. + +"Be careful, sir---do," begged Conlon. "What I'm afraid of is that the +bombs are contact exploders." + +"It's likely," nodded Reade. "I'll be as careful as I can." + +Tom did not dive; the distance was too short. Instead, he let himself down +into the water slowly. Then his head vanished beneath the surface of the +water. + +"Whew! The nerve of that young fellow!", thought Conlon with shuddering +admiration. + +"Ob co'se Massa Reade done got nerve," nodded the negro at the wheel. +"Dat's one reason why, Misto Conlon, Massa Reade is boss." + +"There are other reasons why he's boss," grunted the engine tender. "Mr. +Reade has nerve, but he also has brains in his head. Any man with brains +and the sense to use 'em goes to the top, while I stay down a good deal +lower, and you, Rastus, are still lower." + +"Ah reckon Ah got a two-bit hat on top o' only two cents' wo'th o' brains, +Misto Conlon," grinned the darkey. + +Conlon was an Irishman, and naturally, therefore, no coward. Yet with the +possibility that Tom would run afoul of a contact-exploding bomb and send +them all skyward, the engine tender waited at the rail with drawn breath. + +Finally, there was a ripple on the water. Then Tom's head appeared; next +his shoulders. + +"Conlon!" + +"Here, sir." + +"Here is one of the bombs. Handle it carefully." + +"Trust me, sir." + +Conlon drew the metal tube, with a piece of wire pendant from it, as +carefully as though it had been a royal baby and heir to a throne. Into +the boat the engine tender lifted the thing, and laid it carefully in a +locker. By the time that Conlon was back at the rail Reade had gone below +again. + +"Down dere, aftah mo' death!" grinned the darkey. A colored man can +usually be brave when serving under a white leader in whom he has full +confidence. + +Presently Tom came up with another metal tube, like the first. + +"I'll hang on and get my breath," Tom informed the men in the boat, as he +rested one hand on the rail. "The other two bombs are about three feet +lower, and it's going to be hard to work at the lower depth." + +"Be careful, won't you, sir?" urged Conlon, in a somewhat awed voice. "Mr. +Reade, we can't afford to lose you until this job is completed. Men with +all the nerve you show are scarce in the world." + +"I know where there are forty thousand men with at least as much nerve, +many of them having several times as much as I," laughed Tom. + +"Where on earth are they?" demanded the Irishman. + +"In the United States Navy. If there were a battleship here the jackies +would be fighting for the honor of going down after these bombs." + +Then Reade dropped out of sight, once more. Nor was it long before he +had the third and the fourth bombs aboard the boat. Then he climbed in +himself, dripping like a shaggy Newfoundland dog. + +"Put in at the dock now," the young chief ordered, and the boat started on +its way. + +"Some one signaling from the wall lower down," Tom soon informed the negro +pilot. "Put in where you see the signaling." + +"It is I, Corbett," called the foreman of that name. "Mr. Reade, these +two men with me belong to the Blixton police." + +"Perhaps you had rather walk down to the dock, then, instead of getting +into the boat," laughed Reade. "We have four bombs aboard, just taken +out of the wall above here." + +Accordingly the three turned and walked. At the landing the policemen +gazed curiously at the bombs. + +"Do you want to take charge of these?" Reade queried. + +"Not particular about it," replied the policeman, with a shrug. "We'd +be scorched for endangering the town if we took those things into Blixton. +Your foreman, Mr. Reade, called us out here to see if we could get trail +of your missing Mexican servant." + +"That's a vastly more important thing to do," Tom replied with enthusiasm. +"I want to find Nicolas before I do another thing." + +"Come here, Bill," called one of the officers. + +Out of the shadows near the shore came a youth leading a dog on a leash. + +"This dog is a bloodhound," announced one of the policemen with visible +pride. "Take him to where the scent of the Mexican starts, and the dog +will follow as long as there's any scent left. But, first, we'll have to +have something that the Mexican has worn, so that the hound will know the +true scent." + +"That will take but a few minutes," declared Reade energetically. "Come +up to the house, and I'll find something that Nicolas has worn." + +Corbett remained behind to take care of the bombs. Tom led the officers +and the youth with the hound on a brisk walk up to the house. + +"Wait out here," murmured Tom, "and I'll bring something out. If we all +go into the house we'll wake my partner, Hazelton, and he has enough work +to do in the daytime, without being kept up at night." + +While the others remained outside Tom stole into the house. There was a +room in the rear, off the kitchen, where Nicolas slept. Into that room +Reade stepped noiselessly. + +It was not necessary to strike a match, for, in the very faint light there, +Tom espied an object on the foot of the bed that he recognized---one of +the Mexican's white canvas shoes. + +Tom snatched it up quickly. Then, despite his steady nerves, he staggered +back. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +TOM MAKES AN UNEXPECTED CAPTURE + + +For an unearthly scream pierced the air. There was a wrench, a bounding +figure---and then Tom Reade felt a jolt near his solar plexus that made +him gasp. + +"Stop that!" gasped the young chief engineer. + +"You, Senor?" demanded an incredible, drowsy voice. + +"Yes; it's I---Reade." + +"A thousand pardons, Senor!" + +"So this is you, Nicolas?" + +"Yes, Senor." + +"What are you doing here?" + +"The negro got away from me." + +"I know that, but---" + +"I could not help it, Senor. I assure you I was not careless." + +"I never knew you to be careless, Nicolas." + +"Thank you, Senor. But I stood over that black scoundrel, watching for +the slightest move on his part. I had my forefinger ready, and he did not +dare move." + +"I can quite believe that," agreed Tom, dryly, "after the poke you just +gave me." + +"Again a thousand pardons, Senor, but in the dark, and awaking so suddenly, +I did not see you or know you." + +"I can quite believe that, Nicolas." + +"As I was saying, Senor, I was watching over the black man when some one +came up behind me---so softly that I did not hear. But I felt. _Ah!_ What +I felt! It was a fist that seemed to break in the top of my head. Down I +went, and I heard a voice. I knew that voice, too. So would you have +known it, Senor!" + +"Whose voice was it?" asked Tom, curiously. + +"The voice of Evarts." + +"The discharged foreman?" + +"Yes, Senor. But I am delaying my story. While Evarts was speaking I +heard another sound. At one effort the negro snapped the cords that held +him. Ah, he is a powerful brute." + +"He is," Tom affirmed solemnly. + +"I knew it was my task to keep the negro from getting away," continued the +little Mexican excitedly. "So I leaped up, extended my forefinger and +rushed at him. But thees Evarts---hees feest catch me between the eyes. +I do not have to guess the spot where he struck me, Senor, for I can +feel it yet. Down I went, and knew no more. When next I opened my +eyes I found myself lying in the middle of a theecket of bushes. I theenk, +perhaps, the scoundrels believed they had killed me, and so they hid my +body. But I have fool' them. I am still alive---much alive!" + +"What did you do when you came to, Nicolas?" + +"Senor," protested the Mexican, "there was no more need of me. You had +gone after men. Eef you came back, you have many men with you, so you do +not need me. For that reason I come home." + +Even in the dark the young engineer could "feel" Nicolas's shudder. Tom +could not repress a smile that threatened to become a chuckle. + +"I was varee sleepy," continued Nicolas, "and so I lay down. I forgot to +undress, or even to take off my shoes. I fall asleep, and I dream much. +I see the big negro again, and I dream that I have more fight with heem. +Then, when you pull my foot, I wake up in one gr-rand sweat, for I theenk +the big black attack me once more. I am glad---so glad that it is not +true." + +"Nicolas," cried Tom, "you have done fighting enough for one night. Yet +tell me, how did you happen to be at hand to-night in time to save me from +Mr. Sambo Ebony?" + +"Because I see you start away to-night," replied Nicolas, "an' I see that +you go alone. I know that you mos' likely run into trouble, an' so I +follow you. Sure enough, Senor, you find trouble---and I heet heem with +my finger!" + +"You surely did 'hit him with your finger,' Nicolas," laughed Tom, grasping +the little Mexican's hand and wringing it. "But now come outside. I had +sent for the police to find you, and now I must show them that you are +already found." + +Together they went out on the porch. Tom explained the situation. + +"Then you don't need us, after all?" asked one of the policemen. + +"Not to find Nicolas," Tom Reade admitted. "But do you know Evarts?" + +"Used to be your foreman?" + +"Yes." + +"We know him," nodded the policeman. + +"Then," Reade continued, "I wish you would search through Blixton for +him. If you find him, be good enough to lock him up and notify me." + +"Is there a warrant out against him?" asked one of the policemen, +cautiously. + +"You don't need one," Tom replied. "I will make a charge of felony +against Evarts, to the effect that he is concerned in the outrages +against our wall. On a felony charge you don't need a warrant. Then, +too, try to find the big negro." + +"What's his name?" + +"I don't know his name," Tom answered. "I've dubbed him 'Sambo Ebony.' +You have the description of him that I wrote out. Arrest Sambo, by all +means, if you can find him, and I'll make a felony charge against him, +too. The negro is the one who has been blowing up the sea wall." + +"We'll look for the pair all through the town, Mr. Reade," promised the +officers. + +"Do! And, on behalf of the company, I'll offer a two-hundred dollar reward +for the arrest of each man!" + +With that prospect to spur them on the policemen hastened away, followed +by the young man with the bloodhound. + +"Now, Nicolas," pressed Reade, turning around at the faithful little brown +man, "you tumble back into bed." + +"But you, Senor?" + +"Don't worry about me. I've probably done all I need to do to-night. I +shall probably sit here on the porch and think until daylight. Then I'll +call Hazelton, and go to bed for a few hours' sleep before I appear in +court against the gamblers and the bootleggers. Go to bed, Nicolas, and +sleep! That's an order, remember!" + +The Mexican therefore went to his bedroom without protest. Presently Reade +became aware of the fact that his clothing had not by any means fully +dried. He went to his room, took a vigorous rub-down, donned dry clothing, +and then went out on the porch. + +Though the night was dark the air was delicious. The combined odors of +many flowers came in on the faintly stirring breeze. + +Tom leaned back in a chair, his feet on the porch railing. His senses +lulled by the quiet and repose of the night he was in danger of falling +asleep. + +Of a sudden he came to with a start. Off among the trees to the eastward, +near the road, a human being was stirring. + +Reade rose, moving swiftly back more into the shadow. Then he watched, +every sense alert. Yes; some one was moving, out there amid the trees. +What he could not see, Tom discovered by his acute sense of hearing. + +"I'll put a hot pebble in that fellow's bonnet, whoever he is!" Tom +muttered vengefully. Entering the house, he left at the rear, then made +a stealthy, roundabout trip that brought him at the farther edge of the +litte grove of trees. + +Now the young engineer crouched close to the ground as he listened. Once +more he heard that some one moving, not many yards away. It was +pitch-black in there amid the trees. Guided by his ears, Tom moved closer +and closer without making a betraying sound. Suddenly he found the tall +figure looming up almost in his path. + +"Now, I've got you!" cried Tom exultantly, making a bound that should have +carried his hands to the throat of the prowler. + +But the other, like a flash, went on the defensive. Tom felt himself +parried, then clutched at. The next instant the prowler had the young +engineer in a tackle that carried Tom Reade back to the good old high +school days at home. The young engineer was dumped on the ground as though +he had been a sack of flour. + +"Great Scott!" quivered Tom Reade. "No one but Dick Prescott ever had +that tackle down fine!" + +"Well, you blithering idiot!" came the indignant answer. "That's who I +am---Prescott!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE ARMY "ON THE JOB" + + +"You, Dick?" gasped Tom, stumbling ruefully to his feet. Then he leaped +at his late foe, throwing his arms around him. The two fairly hugged each +other, Yes; here was Dick Prescott, not so many weeks a graduate of the +Military Academy at West Point, and now, if you please, Second Lieutenant +Richard Prescott, United States Army! + +"Well, of all the strange things that the Illinois Central Railroad brings +into Alabama!" grunted Tom, now gripping Dick by the hand and holding on +as though he never meant to let go. + +"If the Illinois Central had built its tracks through to Blixton I probably +would have arrived at a civilized hour," laughed Dick. "As it was, I had +to come in on a wood-burning, backwoods road and the train was only five +hours and a half behind schedule. Then, from a sleepy policeman I got +directions that enabled me to find this place after an hour's hard work." +To what effect? Only to be pounced upon by you as though you had caught me +in the act of stealing all the water in the Gulf of Mexico!" + +"Stop your roasting," laughed Tom joyfully. "But say, it _does_ seem good +to set eyes on you again, after two years." + +All of our readers who have read the "_High School Boys Series_" and the +"_West Point Series_" know all about Dick Prescott, the famous leader of +Dick & Co. + +"What are you now?" Tom asked eagerly. "A general, or only a colonel?" + +"Nothing but a shavetail," laughed Dick. "Shavetail is the army nickname +for a second lieutenant." + +"I've got to join my regiment, the Thirty-fourth Infantry, out in Colorado +very soon," continued Prescott. "But I came down here to spend a few days +with you, if you can stand me." + +"If we can stand you!" chuckled Tom, patting his old high school chum on +the back. "Say, where's Greg?" + +Greg Holmes had been another member of Dick & Co., and Dick's chum and +comrade at West Point. + +"Well, you see," laughed Lieutenant Prescott, "Greg has been falling in +love with six girls a year regularly ever since he entered West Point. +Now that he's in the army he has started in to increase the yearly +average. He's visiting a Miss Deering, who lives near Chicago." + +"Greg's likely never to marry," wisely remarked Tom. "These fellows who +catch a new love fever every few weeks always end up by finding that no +girl wants them. But say, Dick you hardly look the soldier." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, one would expect to see an army officer in uniform, you know." + +"An officer rarely travels in uniform, unless on duty with troops," +explained Dick. + +"How did you like West Point?" + +"Fine!" said Dick, grimly. "It was like four years in prison, only more +so. When I look back I shudder at the incessant grind I had to endure +there. Yet I'm going to be happy, now I'm through, for I couldn't be happy +anywhere except in the United States Army." + +"What crazy notions some folks have of happiness," murmured Tom, mockingly. +"However, old fellow, we're not going to fight, are we? Now, hustle over +to the house. Harry is sleeping at the present moment, but I won't let +him have a wink more of sleep to-night. It's getting toward daylight, +anyway, and too much sleep isn't good for a fellow. But don't talk above +a whisper, Dick, when we get near the house. I don't want Harry, by any +chance, to catch a sound of your voice until he comes out on the porch and +runs into you." + +Chatting away in low tones the two old-time high school chums gained the +porch. + +"Now, just stay here," whispered Tom, then strode into the house. He +entered his partner's room, gripping the slumber-seized Hazelton with a +strong clasp. + +"Oh, quit your fooling!" protested a sleepy voice from the pillow. + +"Time to get up, you slant-eyed rations stealer!" muttered Tom gruffly. +"Come on. You're needed, and there's no time to be lost. Up with you!" + +Tom dragged his drowsy partner from the bed, seating him on the edge of it. + +"Now, shed your pajamas and pull on something decent," Reade commanded +grimly. "Hustle! There's a conference going on outside, and you're +wanted. Hurry! Want me to dump the pitcher of water on you? I'll do it +if you give your eyes another rub!" + +Hazelton was now fully convinced that something important was in the air. +If not, he knew that his chum never would have hauled him out of bed in the +darkest hours of the night. + +"If you throw any water I'll shave you with the bread-knife," retorted +Harry. "But you can keep on talking to me, so that I won't fall asleep +while I'm trying to dress." + +Slowly, at first, then more rapidly, Hazelton got his clothes on. Pouring +water into the basin he sopped a towel in it, then liberally applied it to +his face. The water waked him rapidly. + +"Now, lead me forth to where duty calls," mimicked Harry. + +"Run along out on to the porch," ordered Tom. "I'll be there in a moment." + +Still yawning, Hazelton groped his way out into the hall, along the dark +passage, and thence out into the night. Some one stood there, and Harry +walked curiously toward him. + +"Howdy, whoever you are," was Hazelton's greeting. + +"Halloo, Harry, old chum," came Dick Prescott's laughing answer. + +"Dick Prescott!" gasped Harry delightedly. + +"I suppose you think I might have waited until daylight," laughed Dick, +as their hands met. + +"I'm heartily glad you didn't wait," said Harry. "How long can you stay +with us?" + +"Not as long as I'd like to, for I'm due at Fort Clowdry in a very few +days." + +"And Greg?" + +Lieutenant Prescott gave the same explanation he had furnished Tom. + +"How does it seem to be an army officer?" Harry continued. + +"I believe it to be the finest career on earth," Prescott answered. +"Still, as you can guess, I'm utterly without experience so far. After a +few days more I shall have my first day as an officer on duty with troops. +But do you and Tom continue to find engineering the grandest career on +earth?" + +"We certainly do," affirmed Hazelton. + +"It must be very interesting," agreed Dick. "Still, I imagine there is +yet enough of the primitive savage in the average man to make him enjoy a +real fight once in a while. That's an experience you're denied in your +calling, but an army officer may always look forward to the chance of +seeing a little fighting." + +Hazelton glanced humorously at his partner before he replied: + +"At present there's a very good chance of a fight right here at this camp." + +"So?" Dick Prescott asked, sitting up with a look of interest. + +"Not so much chance as there was," said Tom gravely. "The fight came off +to-night. Harry, I met the big black---caught him redhanded." + +"You did?" cried Hazelton, leaping up. "And you never called me?" + +"There wasn't any chance," Tom assured him. "The meeting and the fight +didn't take place on this porch." + +Tom now had two very interested auditors. For Prescott's benefit Reade +first sketched a brief outline of the troubles that had led up to the +present, including an account of the wrecking of substantial portions of +the retaining wall. Then he came down to the events of the night. + +"Oh, and I had to miss it," sighed Harry, disappointedly. "I'd have missed +a week of sleep just to have been in to-night's doings. And, if I had been +with you, Tom, we'd now have Mr. Sambo Ebony in jail." + +"I think we've blocked the black rascal's game on the wall, anyway," said +Tom. + +"There's just a fair chance that you haven't yet blocked it," remarked the +young army officer thoughtfully. "Of course this Sambo of yours merely +represents a well-organized gang. This gang may have more ways than one +of damaging the property of the Melliston Company. From all I can see, Tom +and Harry, you're likely to need to be more vigilant than ever. Whew! But +I'm glad that I can be with you a few days. I'm likely to come in for a +choice lot of excitement. Also, I may very likely be able to help out a +lot." + +"We wouldn't put you to that trouble, Dick," protested Tom. "You're to be +our guest---not our policeman." + +"Are you going to try to keep me out of all the excitement and fun?" +Lieutenant Dick demanded, indignantly. "Sleep? Can't I get enough of that +when I go aboard a Pullman again and am riding out to Colorado? Of course +I'm going to help---and I'm going to have my share of all the opportunities +for excitement here---or else I'm going to cut your acquaintance." + +"Why, of course we'll be delighted to have your help, Dick, if you want to +stand the racket," Reade made haste to say. "It will surely seem like +doubling---or trebling---our forces, to have Dick Prescott working hand in +hand with us." + +"Then that's settled," cried Dick, with an air of satisfaction. + +"You haven't had any sleep lately, have you, Dick?" inquired Tom, after +they had chatted a little longer. + +"No; I haven't." + +"Then you must turn in and get a few hours," proposed Reade. "I must have +a little myself, as I shall have to be up and go into court during the +coming forenoon." + +"I'm wide awake now," said Harry. "So I'll sit right here on the porch +and dream of Dick and Greg, and good old Dave Darrin and Danny Dalzell, +and the good times we had in old Gridley. What time do you want to be up, +Tom?" + +"Not later than eight," Reade answered. + +"Trust me," said Harry promptly. Harry went to his own bedroom, pulled his +bed apart, remade it with fresh linen, and with a final grip of Dick's +hand, he left the army officer to turn in there. + +At eight o'clock Hazelton called both Tom and Dick. They turned out +promptly, to find that Nicolas had laid an appetizing breakfast on the +porch. + +Then Tom had to hurry over to Blixton, Dick going with him, while Hazelton +went down to the breakwater to superintend the day's work there. + +Only a little time had to be spent in the justice's stuffy court. Hawkins +and his fellow gamblers and bootleggers were arraigned and held in one +thousand dollars' bail each for trial. As none of them had the money the +eight men were sent to the county jail pending trial. + +"That's queer," mused Tom, aloud, as he and Dick walked back to camp. +"You'd think that professional gamblers would have money enough to put up +small bail." + +"Not if they're working for other people," suggested Dick. "These men may +be merely the agents of some larger crowd." + +"Meaning that the larger crowd may be a sort of vice trust, operating in +many fields at the same time?" queried Reade. + +"Something of the sort," replied the young army officer. "To-day nearly +everything has been capitalized on a large scale of combined capital. Why +shouldn't vice be?" + +"I begin to think you're more than half right in your guess," Tom admitted. +"Your explanation is about the only way to account for a fellow like +Hawkins not having a thousand at his instant disposal. However, if these +fellows represent a vice trust, then I suppose it will be a question of +only a little time when the trust sends down money enough to put up the +needed bail." + +"That will undoubtedly happen," nodded Dick. "And then you'll have to look +out for that fellow, Hawkins, and all the men he can command. Hawkins +looked at you, in court, as though he'd enjoy pulverizing you." + +"I'm ready, when he is," laughed Tom. "If he'd only fight in the open I +wouldn't be at all afraid of him." + +Tom now led the way down to the retaining wall. Prescott gazed with great +interest at the signs of activity. On a closer inspection he was even +more interested. He was capable of understanding very fully what was being +done here, for every graduate of the United States Military Academy is +supposed to be a capable engineer. + +"You've a difficult task on hand, but your basic principle is sound, and +you're doing the work finely and economically," Dick declared with +emphasis. + +Harry came in from the outer end of the wall and joined them. He listened +with pride to the praises that the army officer showered on the engineers. + +"I wish Mr. Bascomb, the president of the company, could hear you," said +Harry. "He isn't altogether sure that we know what we're about in anything +that we're doing." + +"Then I've a very good mental picture of Bascomb," declared Dick, bluntly. +"Bascomb is something of a chump. By the way, if you want to get square +with Mr. Bascomb, why don't you coax him down here to help you look out for +the evil-doers who are combined against you?" + +"He wouldn't be much use," sighed Tom. "He's an impossible sort of chap. +He wanted us to stop our crusade against camp vice. Said it was hurting +business." + +"What craft is that?" inquired Dick, looking toward a sailboat that was +moving lazily along about a half-mile to the eastward. + +"I don't know," Tom answered, after a look. "Never saw the boat before. +Regular cabin cruiser, isn't she, about forty feet long?" + +"About that," nodded Dick. "What interested me in her was the fact that a +fellow on board has been watching us with a marine glass. I caught the +glint of the sun on the lenses." + +"Why should he want to be watching us?" demanded Hazelton. + +"That's just what made me curious," replied Prescott. "As an army officer, +if this were a fort that I commanded in troublous times, I'd want to look +into any strange craft that I caught cruising lazily in the offing and +holding a marine glass on us." + +"I wonder if that boat can be in the service of those who are annoying us?" +Tom muttered. + +"It's an even chance that it is a 'hostile ship,'" Prescott suggested. +"You have a motor boat here. I'm inclined to think you ought to use it in +overhauling that suspicious craft. Of course you'd have no right unless +there was a police officer along. Can you get one?" + +"The authorities in Blixton would send a policeman on request." + +"Then send a messenger to request them to send over a policeman in +citizen's clothes," proposed Dick. + +Tom promptly despatched Foreman Dill on that errand. + +"Now don't let the men on the boat see that you're paying any more +attention," Prescott advised. "Leave it to me, and I'll contrive to keep +the boat and its people under observation without looking too plainly in +their direction." + +In due time the plain clothes policeman arrived. He, the young engineers +and the army lieutenant boarded the "Morton," which put out from the +landing as though on a trip of inspection of the wall. + +"Don't anyone look over at the sloop," Prescott urged. "I'll do the +watching. A fellow on that craft is holding the glasses on us right now. +Officer, do you demand the assistance of all present in any police duty +that may come up?" + +"I do," replied the Blixton policeman, a man named Carnes, returning +Prescott's wink. + +"All right, then," laughed Dick. "That demand makes policemen of us all. +Tom, you can turn, now, when ready, and put on full speed in going after +that craft." + +Reade gave the order for full speed, then took the steering wheel himself. + +"Guilty conscience!" laughed Prescott. "There's the sloop putting about at +once and heading away from us." + +"They can't get away from us, in this light wind," chuckled the young chief +engineer. + +A few minutes later the "Morton" came up within easy hailing distance of +the sloop, aboard which only one man now appeared. + +"Sloop ahoy!" called the policeman. "What are you doing in these waters?" + +"Looking for a good fishing ground," answered the dark-faced man at the +tiller. + +"Then you're too far in by some three miles," answered the policeman. + +"Thank you, cap'n," acknowledged the sailing master of the sloop. + +"You're welcome," the policeman continued, "but ease off your sheet and +lay to. We want to come aboard." + +"You can't!" flatly retorted the skipper. + +"You're wrong there," retorted the policeman. "This is a police party, +and I tell you that we are coming aboard. Lay to, or we shall have to +start a lot of trouble for you." + +In the policeman's hand suddenly glistened a revolver. Tom ran the motor +boat close alongside. With a snarl the man left off his sheet. The +policeman and Dick Prescott leaped aboard the craft, Tom and Harry +following. + +"This is a cheeky outrage!" snarled the skipper, scowling at the invaders. + +"Then keep the change, and welcome," laughed the policeman, taking his +stand close to the skipper. + +Dick Prescott made a dive at the cabin door, which was closed. + +"Open this door!" he summoned. + +As the door did not open Dick placed his shoulder against it. + +"Open the door, or I'll break it down," Dick insisted. + +There was still no answer. Thereupon Prescott proceeded to put his threat +into execution. Harry bounded forward to help. Under their combined +assault the door gave way. + +Lieutenant Prescott was the first to enter the dark little cabin. Poor as +the light was his eyes caught sight of something that made him gasp. + +"This is the big capture of the season!" cried Dick jubilantly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A NEW MYSTERY PEEPS IN + + +"Get out of here, or you'll get something you don't want," roared an ugly +voice at the farther end of the cabin. + +At sound of that voice Tom Reade started. He thrust his head in the open +doorway. + +"Hullo, Evarts!" called the young chief engineer. + +"Get out of here!" came the furious order. + +"So you've openly joined the enemy, Evarts?" demanded Tom, as his eyes +fell upon the object that had first claimed Lieutenant Dick Prescott's +attention. + +"You've no business here! Get out, or I'll shoot," cried Evarts, +defiantly. + +"Don't be too quick on the shoot," warned the Blixton policeman, who still +had his own revolver in his hand. "This is a police party, and you're +under arrest. Start any shooting trouble, and the air will be full of it." + +"Clear out, and I'll come outside and talk with you," proposed Evarts, for +it really was the discharged foreman. + +"All right," nodded the policeman. "Gentlemen, let him step outside." + +The others left the entrance to the cabin, As Evarts, his pistol now back +in his pocket, stepped sullenly outside, Harry Hazelton dropped back into +the doorway. + +"Glad to meet you, Mr. Evarts," grinned the police officer, deftly slipping +handcuffs on the fellow's wrists. + +"This is treachery!" stormed the prisoner. "I didn't surrender to you. +I only came out to talk with you." + +"If you didn't surrender, then excuse me, and go ahead and put up a fight," +laughed the policeman, handily removing Evarts's revolver from a hip +pocket. + +"Now, look in here, Tom," urged Dick. "Do you see what caught my eye?" + +Prescott pointed to a sharp-nosed cylinder, some eight feet long. Just as +it lay the propeller at the other end was invisible to one at the doorway +of the cabin. + +"It's a home-made imitation of a Whitehead torpedo," Lieutenant Dick went +on, in explanation. "If it proves to be charged with explosives then the +mere having of it aboard this sloop will prove embarrassing to these two +prisoners to explain in court. If it isn't loaded, that will be almost as +bad, as such a torpedo can be rather easily loaded, and then set in +operation by clock-work machinery that will control the propeller." + +"Young man, you seem to think you know a good deal about torpedoes," +sneered Evarts. + +"He ought to," Harry retorted quietly. "He's a West Point man and an army +officer. Therefore, he's a specialist in some kinds of explosives." + +Evarts's face turned somewhat paler at this information of having an army +officer on hand as a witness. + +"Do you call me a prisoner, too?" asked the man at the tiller uneasily. + +"Something like it, I guess," nodded Dick. + +"Say, but that's a pretty rank deal against an honest man," protested the +skipper hoarsely. "I hired this boat out to that man, the one you call +Evarts, but I didn't know what he was up to." + +"You didn't know that torpedoes are used for wicked work either, eh?" +pressed Lieutenant Dick. + +"I'll swear that I didn't know what it was that he brought on board," cried +the skipper. "Evarts said it was a new device for killing fish at +wholesale." + +"You may be telling the truth," Tom broke in. + +"I am," declared the skipper eagerly. + +"Then explain it to the court," Reade continued. "If you can prove to a +judge and a jury that you're an honest man, and always have been one, you +may get off on the charge that will be made against you." + +"Then you don't believe me?" asked the skipper anxiously. + +"It isn't for me to say," Tom replied crisply. "It's a job for a judge +and a jury." + +"Then I'm to be a prisoner?" + +"That's for the policeman here to say." + +"You're a prisoner, my man," nodded the policeman. "Now, sail your boat +into the landing over yonder." + +"Some one else will sail it," retorted the skipper, angrily, as he +abandoned his tiller. + +"I'll take the tiller," Harry suggested, and did so. He hauled in the +sheet, brought the boat around and headed for the landing with the skill +of an old sailor. + +"My man, since you don't want to sail the boat you'll have to go as a real +prisoner," announced the policeman. He produced a pair of handcuffs, +snapping them over the man's wrists. + +In a short time Harry brought the sailboat up to the landing. The motor +boat had followed, but did not come all the way in. After the sail had +been lowered and made snug the party took up its way, on foot, to the +nearby town of Blixton. + +Justice Sampson was found, and consented to open court immediately. +Officer Carnes brought his prisoners forward, stating the charge. The +young engineers and the army officer gave their testimony. + +"The prisoners are held for trial, and bail fixed at five thousand dollars +in each case," decided the court. + +The torpedo had been left on the sloop, in charge of a foreman. The +justice now ordered two officers to go back and bring over the torpedo, +which was to be held until a chemist could examine and take samples of +whatever explosive might be found inside. + +As Dick was a United States Army officer, under orders to proceed to his +post within the next few days, the court reduced his testimony to writing, +and permitted Prescott to sign this under oath. + +It had been a busy forenoon. Now it was time for luncheon, and the three +chums returned to the house to eat. In the afternoon they visited the +wall, remaining there until four o'clock. On their return to the house +Tom and Harry were greeted by Mr. Prenter, who had been waiting for them. + +"I heard the news of last night's doings, and to-day's, and came right +down," explained the treasurer of the Melliston Company. "Reade, I'm +glad to be able to say that you appear to have brought us to the end of +the explosion troubles." + +"Or else we're just starting with that trouble," Reade smiled wistfully. +"Mr. Prenter, I must say that there appears to be no end to the surprises +with which our enemies are capable of supplying us." + +Tom then nodded to Dick to come forward and presented him to the treasurer. + +"An army officer?" asked Mr. Prenter eagerly. "Then I'm doubly glad to +meet you, Mr. Prescott. You've seen the breakwater work? As an army +officer and an engineer what do you think of it?" + +"It's great!" said Dick, though he added laughingly: "Reade and Hazelton +are such dear old friends of mine that any testimony in their favor is +likely to be charged to friendship." + +"I'll believe what an army officer says, even in praise of his best +friends," smiled Mr. Prenter. + +Foreman Johnson, who had been over in town, now came along. He halted +some distance away, beckoning to Reade. + +"Mr. Reade," murmured the foreman, in an undertone, "over in Blixton I +just heard some news that I thought would interest you. Evarts is out on +bail." + +"He furnished a five thousand surety?" queried Tom. + +"Yes, sir, and who do you suppose went on his bond?" + +"I can't imagine who the idiot is." + +"The man who signed Evarts's bond," continued Foreman Johnson solemnly, +"was Mr. Bascomb, president of this company!" + +"Whew!" muttered Tom aghast. "And that's all I've got to say on this +subject." + +"I thought you'd like to know the news," remarked Johnson, "and so I came +to tell you." + +"Please accept my thanks," Tom answered. Then, as the foreman passed +along, Reade went back to his friends. + +"You seem staggered about something," remarked Mr. Prenter, eyeing him +keenly. + +"Possibly I am," admitted Tom. "Evarts is out on bail." + +"Now, what fool or rogue could have signed that fellow's bail bond?" +demanded Mr. Prenter in exasperation. + +"Careful, sir!" warned Tom smilingly. "I've just been informed that the +bail bond was signed by Mr. Bascomb, president of the Melliston Company." + +"Well, of all the crazy notions!" gasped Mr. Prenter. "But there! I won't +say more. Bascomb is a queer fellow in some things, but he's a good fellow +in lots of things, and a square, honest man in all things. If he signed +Evarts's bond, there was a reason, and not a dishonest one." + +"But Evarts won't behave," predicted Harry dismally. "After all our +trouble we shall still have to remain on guard night and day." + +"It'll be an airship next," laughed Dick Prescott. + +"Unless Sambo Ebony comes forward once more, and finds out how to lay wires +by a new submarine route," retorted Tom Reade. + +All the present company felt unaccountably gloomy just at this moment. +There could be no guessing what would occur next to hamper or destroy the +fruits of their hard labor. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +A SECRET IN SIGHT + + +"Mr. Prenter," asked Tom suddenly, "is there anything about which you wish +to see me just now?" + +"Not particularly," replied the treasurer. "Only, in view of late +developments I'm going to remain about for the next few days, unless you +order me out of the house. I want to be close to the trouble." + +"Then, if I'm not needed," gaped Reade, "I'm going to turn in and steal a +little sleep. I need rest." + +"As I'm going to stay up to-night, Tom, and keep you company through the +dark hours, I'm for the bale of lint, too," announced Lieutenant Prescott. + +"At what hour shall I call you?" asked Harry. + +"At eight o'clock to-night," answered Tom. + +Refreshed by a few hours' sleep Tom and Dick were called, to find their +supper ready. Nicolas stood behind their chairs, attentive to their needs. + +Mr. Prenter remained out on the porch, but Harry sat at table with his +friends. + +"Has Mr. Bascomb put in an appearance here?" Tom inquired. + +"No," said Hazelton briefly. + +"He certainly has wound up my curiosity," murmured Tom. "Why on earth +should he bail out Evarts?" + +"Probably because Evarts asked him to," suggested Dick. + +"But why should he want to please Evarts in such a matter?" + +"Well, you know," hinted Harry, "we've heard that Evarts is some sort of +relative to Mr. Bascomb." + +"But the rascal has been working to ruin this company," Tom protested, +"and Mr. Bascomb is the trusted president of the company." + +"Yet _is_ Mr. Bascomb really fit to be trusted?" Prescott propounded. + +"Mr. Prenter seems to think so, and he is a capable judge of men," Tom +rejoined. "It is the combination of all these circumstances taken together +that makes me so curious over Mr. Bascomb's being willing to bail the +fellow." + +"Oh, well, it's too much of a puzzle for us," said Harry, shrugging his +shoulders. "All we've got to do is to keep our eyes open and faithfully +guard the property that is entrusted to our care. However, I'm growing +sour and sore. Here I've got to go to bed presently, and you and Dick are +going to be prowling about all night. You'll have all the excitement, +while I'll be in bed." + +"You seem to forget," Tom reminded him, "that the last big excitement took +place in the daytime, during your shift. Dick and I may have a lazy night, +and you may have the air full of wreckage to-morrow in broad daylight." + +They chatted a little while with Mr. Prenter, outside, and then Dick rose +at Tom's signal. + +"We must be starting," said Reade. "I don't know just what we're going +to do to-night, but we have miles to cover I'm afraid." + +"Being an army officer, Dick, you've got a pistol, of course," suggested +Harry hopefully. + +"I've a brace of them," nodded the army man. + +"Good!" cheered Harry. + +"But both of them, unloaded at that, are in my trunks at Mobile," laughed +Dick, whereat Tom chuckled. Harry Hazelton was much inclined to want to +carry a pistol in times of danger, but Tom didn't believe in any such +habit. + +"I thought soldiers went armed," muttered Hazelton ruefully. + +"Only when on duty," Dick informed him. + +Nicolas wistfully watched Reade out of sight. The Mexican had been ordered +to remain at home to-night, and on no account to think of following his +employer. That didn't at all agree with the faithful fellow's wishes. + +"They'll be sure to get into some trouble, Senor Hazelton," Nicolas +said mournfully. "I should be on their flank, watching over them." + +"You don't know Gridley boys," laughed Harry, "if you don't understand +that Dick Prescott and Tom Reade, together, are a hard team to beat." + +In the meantime Tom led the way down to the camp of workmen. Reade +stopped to speak with one of his reliable negroes, whom he found softly +strumming a banjo under a tree. + +"Are there any visitors in camp to-night who shouldn't be here?" asked Tom. + +"I doan' beliebe so, boss," replied the colored man. "Dem gamblers an' +bootleggers ain' done got bail yet, has they, sah?" + +"I don't believe they have," replied Tom. "There are no others of their +kind here, then?" + +"I doan' beliebe so, sah." + +Tom and Dick strolled through the camp, but all was quiet there. Many of +the men were outside their shacks or tents, smoking and waiting for +turning-in time to come. + +"Looks as orderly as a camp-meeting," declared Lieutenant Prescott. "I'm +glad to see, Tom, that you're for the decent camp every time." + +"The decent camp is the only kind that contains efficient workmen for +engineering jobs," Reade answered dryly. + +Presently they strolled out of camp, on the farther side. This was what +the young engineer really wanted to do---to vanish suddenly, in a fashion +that would not be likely to be noted by hostile eyes. Now Reade and his +army chum proceeded softly, and without words. Through the deep woods Tom +was heading for the spot where he had found the magneto. + +Sambo Ebony was at large, and Tom believed that other things than the +magneto had been concealed at this spot. If Sambo intended any further +assaults on the retaining wall he would be quite likely to come this way. +So here Tom Reade was resolved to remain and watch, even if he had to put +in most of the night there. + +Behind some bushes he and Dick found a hiding place looking out upon the +scene of the late conflict with "Mr. Ebony." + +Without even whispered conversation time dragged slowly. More than an hour +dragged by, and both watchers were beginning to feel decidedly bored. + +At last, however, footsteps came that way. Both watchers crouched lower +and waited. + +The new-comer approached the place rather uncertainly. At last, however, +he stood revealed. Tom Reade felt like yelling in his utter astonishment. + +For President Bascomb, of the Melliston Company, now stood before them. +After a glance about Mr. Bascomb walked slowly up and down, as though he +were waiting for some one. + +Dick, of course, did not know Mr. Bascomb. However, as Tom kept silent +the young soldier did the same. + +"What on earth can Bascomb be doing here?" Tom wondered. "Is he, too, one +of the conspirators? It is unbelievable! Yet with what speed he obeyed +Evarts's summons to come and bail him out! It makes me feel like a sneak +to be here spying on the president of the company that employs me---and yet +there's something here that certainly must be looked into!" + +Fifteen minutes more dragged by, with Mr. Bascomb walking impatiently back +and forth, occasionally heaving a deep sigh or catching at his breath. + +"Our worthy president is much excited, at any rate," Reade said to himself. + +Finally steps were heard, both by Bascomb and by the pair who watched him. +Then another man came upon the scene. + +"Evarts, why on earth did you send for me?" demanded Mr. Bascomb, as the +discharged foreman came up. + +"Because I knew you'd be here---you don't dare do otherwise," was the +sneering reply. + +"Try not to be impudent about it," advised Mr. Bascomb mildly. "As you +may remember, I've had to stand a lot from you." + +"And not as much as you might have to stand, either, if I took it into my +head to make matters lively for you," jeered Evarts harshly. "Remember, +man, you'll do as I want you to do." + +"I'm willing to do what I can for you," replied the president. "But---" + +"Now, don't throw any of your 'buts' at me," broke in the discharged +foreman, roughly. "You failed me in one thing---you didn't make Reade take +me back on the job, as I told you to do." + +"I couldn't," pleaded Mr. Bascomb. "Prenter stood with Reade and was +against me." + +"You're the president of the company, aren't you?" Evarts demanded +sullenly. + +"Yes; but Prenter is a bigger man in the company, and he has more influence +with the board of directors. If Prenter came out against me, and persuaded +the other directors that I was a bad asset for the company, they'd act on +Prenter's suggestion and remove me from the presidency." + +"Humph!" jeered Evarts. "Then what would your directors do if they knew +that---." + +"Stop!" begged Mr. Bascomb hoarsely, "Don't say a word further, man! +Sometimes even the leaves on the trees have ears. Don't breathe a word of +what you were going to say just now." + +Even in the dark the two concealed watchers could see that Bascomb was +glancing about him nervously. + +"Now, what is up?" gasped Tom inwardly. "What part has Mr. Bascomb been +playing in this mystery that he's so afraid of having become public?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +EVARTS HEARS A NOISE + + +"I won't shut up," proclaimed Evarts. + +"I don't care who hears me." + +"But I care," protested the president, in a trembling voice. + +"Then you'll have to reward me for whatever silence you want," snarled the +wretch. + +"Is this blackmail never to cease?" groaned Mr. Bascomb. + +"Yes, when you've used me right," declared Evarts harshly. + +"Didn't I come forward promptly on your bail?" demanded Mr. Bascomb. + +"Sure, for you didn't dare do otherwise. But that only gave me liberty. +It didn't put any money in my pocket." + +"Are you going to jump your bail, and leave me to pay the bond?" asked +Bascomb. + +"Perhaps," said Evarts lightly. "You can stand losing the money." + +"I suppose so." + +"But when I jump," continued Evarts, "I'll have to stay out of the country +after that. It'll take money---and you'll have to furnish me with it." + +"How much?" + +"Well," continued the foreman, craftily, "I wouldn't leave the country with +less than enough to set me up elsewhere. I'd need---well, let me see. I +couldn't start in a new country on less than ten thousand dollars." + +"That would make fifteen thousand dollars, in all." Mr. Bascomb finished +his remark with a groan. + +"Well, what are you howling about?" demanded Evarts unfeelingly. "You've +got the money." + +"It will lower my holdings in the Melliston Company," complained Mr. +Bascomb bitterly "I'm not a rich man, and I haven't any too much stock +in the company at the present moment." + +"You'd have to sell it all out, if I gave the directors a chance to find +out that you're a jailbird---that you did time as a younger man," sneered +Evarts. + +"For goodness' sake hold your tongue, man!" gasped Mr. Bascomb in accents +of terror. + +"Just think," grinned Evarts heartlessly, "how delighted your directors +would be to know that you had done time in prison." + +"Silence, man!" implored Bascomb. "It wasn't altogether my fault, as you +know. And the governor of the state discovered that I wasn't as bad as +the jury thought me. It all came through trying to help a worthless +friend. Why, man, the governor pardoned me, when I had yet two years to +serve and restored me to liberty." + +"But you're a jailbird, just the same," jeered the discharged foreman. +"Let the directors find _that_ out, and how quickly they'd drop you from +your office!" + +Mr. Bascomb buried his face in his hands and sobbed aloud. + +"So," continued Evarts, "I'll give you forty-eight hours to raise the ten +thousand dollars---in good cash, mind you---no checks! Then I'll call on +you to hand the money over to me. If you don't, I'll write a note to the +directors, telling them to look up your name in the court records at +Logville, Minnesota. Now, do you understand?" + +"Yes," nodded Mr. Bascomb brokenly. + +"And you'll have the money?" + +"I---I'll try." + +"You'll have the money---by day after tomorrow!" + +"Yes." + +"Now clear out---fast!" + +"Eh?" inquired Mr. Bascomb, looking wildly at the wretch. + +"Get out! Go back to the hotel in Blixton, and don't try to slip away from +me at any point in the game. Start---now!" + +"Good night!" said President Bascomb in a choking voice. + +"Oh, cut out the civilities!" grunted Evarts turning on his heel. + +Mr. Bascomb then silently left the spot. His footfalls made so little +noise that their sound was soon lost to Dick and Tom. + +Evarts appeared in no hurry to leave. On the contrary he drew out a pipe, +filled it and lighted it. Then he threw himself down on the ground, +puffing slowly. + +"From the fact that he sent Mr. Bascomb away, and is himself remaining," +thought Tom Reade, "it is rather plain that this scoundrel, Evarts, is +awaiting some one else." + +The same thought had occurred to Dick Prescott, though, as they lay within +thirty feet of where Evarts reclined on the ground, the chums did not deem +it wise to exchange even whispers. + +After another half-hour Dick pressed Tom's arm. Other footsteps were now +near. Then Mr. Sambo Ebony slouched on to the scene. + +"Hullo, Tar!" was the ex-foreman's careless greeting. + +"Now, doan' get too prescrumptious wid me," warned the black man, with an +evil grin that displayed his big, white teeth. "Yo' an' me hab done been +good frien's, an' pulled togedder. But Ah want yo' to undahstan', Mr. +White Man, dat I doan' allow yo' to call me Tar Baby." + +"Oh, come, now, don't get huffy," yawned Evarts, who had not taken the +trouble to rise. "I'm not afraid of you, Tar." + +"Stop dat!" cried the black angrily. "Yo's takin' big chances, yo' is." + +"You're big and powerful, I know that," grinned Evarts. "But I have +something with me that makes me just the same size as you are, or perhaps +a little bigger. See this!" + +The ex-foreman drew from one of his pockets a formidable-looking automatic +revolver. + +"Huh!" grunted the negro, producing a similar pistol, "yo' ain' no bettah +fixed dan Ah be." + +"We're quits," laughed Evarts easily, returning his weapon to his pocket. +"Put up your rain-maker." + +"Den yo' won't call me Tar Baby no mo?" + +"No more." + +"All right, den." Ebony put up his weapon. + +"Now, what's the programme?" asked Evarts. "You've seen the leader?" + +"Yah. Ah's done see de right man. De orders am simple." + +"What are they?" + +"Misto Reade am to be killed de fust time he show himself," declared Sambo +Ebony. "He to be shot down ez soon ez Ah can lay eyes on him. Maybe Ah +have to shoot from ambush, but in any case he must be daid befo' de sun go +down to-morrow. Our big men am tired to def dat Massa Reade stop do men +from havin' a little liquor and playin' cairds evenin's." + +"Fine!" thought Tom, with a start. "If Sambo knew how close I am he'd +carry out his orders right now! He has his pistol with him." + +"An' den, if dey's any fuss made," the black went on, "Misto Hazelton, he +done gottah go nex'. Maybe Ah get cotch' w'en I do fo' Misto Reade. Ef +dat happen, den dere's anodder man ready to do fo' Misto Hazelton." + +"And maybe the second man will get caught, too," suggested Evarts. "Then +there'll be two of you with nooses around your necks." + +"We maybe get cotch', an' put in de jail," smirked Sambo Ebony, "but +doan' yo' beliebe nothin' worse happen. Dere ain' many guards at de jail, +an' do gang is on de way. De jail guards done be shot up, an' ouah folks +turn' loose. Den we all strike out fo' new place, an' begin all ober +again. Den a new gang come in heah and operate to get de money away from +de breakwatah gangs. Dere's so much money in dat camp yondah dat ouah +folks done gottah hab it ef a dozen men has to be kill'." + +"For cold-blooded, systematic villainy I believe I am listening to the +limit!" quivered Lieutenant Dick Prescott under his breath. + +"They're insane, these people," was Tom's inward comment. "Let this crowd +of scoundrels shoot up the jail guards, and do they think the citizens +would ever allow the gang to operate in camp? There'd be more likelihood +of the known members of the gang being lynched!" + +"I won't go back to jail if I can help it," laughed Evarts, speaking to +the negro. "As soon as I even up one or two grudges I'm going to slip +away." + +"Break yo' bail?" asked the negro, showing his teeth. + +"That's about the size of it," nodded Evarts. + +"Den de w'ite gemman who done fu'nish yo' bond will be feelin' bad, won't +he?" + +"Let him---he's no friend of mine," grunted the discharged foreman. + +"Maybe yo'd like de job ob tendin' to Boss Reade yo'so'f?" hinted Sambo +darkly. + +"Oh, I'm going to settle with Reade in some fashion," boasted Evarts with +a leer. "I don't know that I want to kill him. I'd rather cripple him +and let him live a life of misery." + +"Thank you!" thought Tom from his hiding place. + +"There's another chap we'll have to deal with, too, I'm thinking," Evarts +went on. "Reade and Hazelton have a friend of theirs here, and he's +likely to make some trouble for us. He's an army officer." + +"I done heah'd ob him," nodded Sambo. "We can settle wid him, too." + +"We ought to, for he helped arrest me, and he's to be a witness on the +torpedo matter." + +"W'ate's his name---de ahmy man's?" inquired Sambo. + +"Prescott. He's---" + +The speaker stopped suddenly, looking about him. + +"What was that, Tar?" Evarts demanded. + +"W'at yo' talkin' 'bout?" + +"I heard a noise, and it was right over there," replied Evarts, pointing +to where Tom and Dick lay hidden. + +"I didn't heah nuffin'." + +"I did, I tell you, and it will have to be looked into," insisted the +ex-foreman, drawing his automatic revolver. + +"Go ahaid, den," encouraged Sambo, also drawing his weapon. "Ef anybody +been a-lis'enin', den shoot him full ob holes!" + +Evarts darted at the bushes ahead of his companion. Then an exultant yell +came from him. + +"Hustle, Tar---and shoot straight! Here are the very people we want---I +caught sight of them!" + +"Den watch me!" chuckled Sambo Ebony, flourishing his weapon and dashing +forward in the tracks of Evarts. + +There was no time for the chums to rise and dart away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +MR. BASCOMB HEARS BAD NEWS + + +When Evarts used the word "people" he employed it only in a general sense. +He had seen no one but Tom Reade, but Tom was the one person in the world +whom the ex-foreman wanted most to 'see' at a disadvantage. + +"Now, I have you!" Evarts croaked hoarsely, rushing in, flourishing his +weapon, then letting the muzzle drop to the position of aim. + +Dick Prescott, unseen, stirred almost under the fellow's feet. + +Flop! Bump! Caught by the legs, by that famous football player, Dick +Prescott, Evarts simply had to go down on his back. + +In the same instant Reade leaped, then bent over the prostrate foe. + +Evarts was too much dazed to resist much. Tom snatched the revolver out +of his hand. + +Sambo, beholding this much, came to a dismayed stop for an instant. + +"Dick, it's your trade to know how to handle this tool better than I can," +Tom cried, passing the captured revolver to Prescott, who swiftly received +it as he rose. "I'm afraid," continued the young engineer, "that it's +going to be necessary to kill the negro." + +"Wow! Woof!" uttered Sambo Ebony. It didn't take that villain an instant +to decide on flight. Bending low, the black man ran off with frantic +speed. + +Dick took a step forward---only one, for Evarts furiously gripped at one +of the young army officer's ankles, bringing him down to his knees. + +"Hang you, you hound!" ground out Tom, in a rage, as he threw himself +athwart of the ex-foreman. Within the next thirty seconds Evarts received +a swift, fearful pummeling. + +"Let up, Mr. Reade! Let up!" cried the wretch. "I'll behave myself." + +"I'll wager you will," retorted the young engineer grimly, as he gripped +Evarts by the coat collar and drew him to his feet. + +Dick was up and had run ahead some distance. But the time that had been +gained for the black man had proved sufficient. Sambo, was now out of +sight, nor did he send back any sound to guide his pursuers. + +"It may have to be a long hunt for the negro," remarked Tom Reade when +Lieutenant Dick stepped back to state the case. "Stand by me and shoot +this fellow down in his tracks if he tries to get away." + +"Why, what are you going to do to me?" quaked the ex-foreman. + +"It's back to jail for yours," Tom informed him crisply. + +"Then the laugh will be on you," jeered Evarts. "I'm out on bail---all in +regular form." + +"You're not on bail on the latest charge against you---attempted murderous +assault," Reade rejoined. "Nor will any court allow you out on bail again +when Mr. Prescott and I testify to hearing you tell the negro that you +were going to jump your bail." + +"Humph! That was all a joke," blustered Evarts. + +"All right," nodded Tom. "Explain the joke to the judge, if you can find +a judge who's a good and willing listener. What you'll find, at this time, +is that a hundred thousand dollars' worth of bail won't get you out of +jail. Start along with you," Tom wound up, shaking Evarts by the arm that +he gripped. "If this sneak tries to get away, Dick, bring him down with a +bullet." + +"I'm ready enough to do it," Prescott agreed. + +A sudden great change came over the ex-foreman. At first he threatened. +Then he begged to be turned loose, promising nothing but the best behavior +in the future. + +"Stop all your nonsense," ordered Reade finally. "There's only one proper +place on earth for you, Evarts, and that's behind the bars. Now, move +right along, or I'll give you a worse walloping every time you stop or +argue." + +Finding that nothing would avail with these determined captors the +ex-foreman relapsed into sulks. However, he kept walking straight ahead, +obeying every order addressed to him. + +Tom stopped briefly at the cottage. Mr. Prenter was not there, and +Harry Hazelton had turned in. Nicolas was lying on a blanket on the +porch. + +"You'll have to keep awake until I get back, anyway, Nicolas, and keep +your eyes open," Tom informed the Mexican. "Sambo is at large again, and +I'm afraid he may turn up here." + +"I shall know how to take care of him, Senor," grinned the Mexican holding +up his right forefinger. + +"That wouldn't help you, this time," Tom retorted dryly. "Mr. Sambo Ebony +has a revolver with him. Don't let him get a shot at you; he'd be only +too glad to even the score. Now, Dick, I guess we'd better get Evarts over +to the jail." + +Away started the chums and their prisoner while Nicolas went inside to +warn Harry. + +Not so very much later Tom and Dick turned Evarts over to the police in +Blixton. Evarts was locked up on the new charge. The revolver taken from +him was turned over to the police as evidence. The chums also gave their +information that they had overheard the ex-foreman tell the negro that he +intended to jump bail. But the greatest of all was the news of the plot to +rescue the gambler prisoners now in jail. + +Then the chums started back to camp. + +"I noticed," said Lieutenant Prescott, in a low tone, "that you didn't +mention the conversation between Bascomb and Evarts." + +"I hadn't any right to," Tom said simply. "If Mr. Bascomb once had trouble +in his life, but is living honestly now, it would be criminal of me to +expose such a secret that he wouldn't want known. Mr. Bascomb's past is +none of my business." + +"I'm mighty glad to hear you talk that way about it," said Prescott, +resting a hand on Reade's shoulder. + +"Why?" demanded Tom rather bluntly. "Did you think that I could feel any +other way about it?" + +"But Evarts is pretty sure to talk a lot about Bascomb, now," hinted the +young army officer. + +"If he does," sighed Tom, "I don't know that I can think of any way to +stop the fellow." + +"Then you don't believe that Mr. Bascomb's evil record of past years +affects his honesty now?" Dick went on after a long pause. + +"I don't believe it," Tom answered with unusual emphasis. "If I did it +would be as much as if I said that a fellow who once makes a wrong step +must never hope to get back into the right path again. Mr. Prenter, I am +certain, is an honest man and an unusually keen one. He is satisfied to +trust Mr. Bascomb as president of the company. But, if Evarts is some +sort of family connection of Bascomb's, and if he has often threatened to +tell all about Mr. Bascomb's past history, you can imagine the terror that +poor Mr. Bascomb has lived in for years." + +"If I were in Bascomb's place," Dick declared positively, "I would go +before the board of directors and tell them the whole story. Then no one +else could ever hold any power over me." + +"I guess that's the way all of us think we would act if we'd meet a +blackmailer," nodded Reade. "Yet I guess most of the victims, when there's +a sad, true story that could be told about them, pay the blackmailer and +so secure silence." + +"Which may be another way," mused the young army officer, "of saying that +most men are cowards. Or, maybe, it's another way, after all, of saying +that the man who does anything very wrong or crooked is generally such a +coward at heart that he'll spend his savings in keeping his secret from the +world." + +"Yet Bascomb must have shown considerable bravery in meeting Evarts's +demands," suddenly suggested Reade. "Otherwise, Mr. Bascomb would now be +a poor man and Evarts would have spent all of Bascomb's money. Heretofore, +I imagine, Evarts hasn't been able to blackmail his relative for anything +much more substantial than a good job. I hear that Evarts has been drawing +good pay from the Melliston Company for something more than four +years---and Evarts isn't a very useful man, at that." + +"Then, after four years of easy berths, no wonder Evarts hates you, Tom, +for having bounced him out," smiled Dick Prescott. + +"I'm afraid I'm going to do worse than bounce the fellow out of a job," +sighed Reade. "I'm afraid I've helped head him for prison for a term of +a good many long years." + +"Evarts did that much for himself," Prescott argued. "I wouldn't waste +much worry over the fellow." + +"I suppose it's my way to worry over a dog with a sore paw," answered Reade +thoughtfully, "Certainly Evarts has done some mean things against me, and +without any just cause; but I don't like the thought of his having to be +locked up, away from sunlight, joy and life, for so many years as I'm +afraid are coming to him." + +Arrived at camp, Tom found Mr. Bascomb walking back and forth on the porch +of the engineers' house. + +"You're up late, sir," was Tom's friendly greeting to the president. + +"Yes, Reade; I can't sleep to-night," said Mr. Bascomb wearily. "I came +over here to talk with Prenter. Where is he?" + +"Asleep, I imagine, sir," Tom answered. + +"Wrong," replied President Bascomb. "I've already been inside, but +Prenter isn't in the house." + +"Then perhaps he thought it too lively around here," laughed Reade, "and +went over to Blixton to sleep at the hotel." + +Mr. Bascomb didn't reply to this, but puffed hard at the black cigar he +was smoking and sending up clouds of smoke. + +But the president of the Melliston Company became instantly more distracted +when Tom Reade began an account of the capture of Evarts, and his jailing, +and the escape of Mr. Sambo Ebony. + +Presently Bascomb began to puff harder than ever at his cigar. + +"Reade," he finally blurted out, "how long were you hiding there before +Evarts found you there?" + +"Some little time," Tom admitted vaguely. + +More clouds of cigar smoke ascended; then, shaking, and his face a sickly +white and green, the president inquired: + +"Reade, were you there---you and Mr. Prescott---at the time when I talked +with Evarts on that very spot to-night?" + +There was no use in evading the question, so engineer Reade answered in a +straightforward manner: + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Prescott and I were there." + +"Then---then---y-y-you heard all of my talk with Evarts?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Bascomb's teeth began to chatter so that he was forced to steady his jaws. +Tom and Dick looked aside, pitying the man for his evident anguish of mind. + +At last the president steadied himself enough to speak. + +"Reade, I know I haven't been a very good friend of yours, and I even +tried to work you out of this contract altogether. Now, you know my +secret, and I'm in your power!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +EBONY SAYS "THUMBS UP" + + +Tom Reade stared in frank amazement at the trembling man. + +"Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Bascomb?" demanded the young engineer +bluntly. + +"Insult you? The fates forbid," replied Bascomb with a sickly grin. +"Reade, I don't dare offend you in any way." + +"But you do insult me, sir, in believing that it would be possible for me +to make any hostile use of whatever unpleasant knowledge I may possess +against you." + +"Do you mean to say that you wouldn't use the knowledge?" demanded the +president of the Melliston Company. + +"You're insulting me again, sir. Perhaps you are to be pardoned, Mr. +Bascomb. You have been so long dancing to the fiddling of an Evarts that +you don't realize how impossible it is for a gentleman to do a dishonorable +thing." + +"Then---then I---I can rely upon your silence?" demanded Mr. Bascomb, +eagerly. + +"I am sorry, sir, to think that you even think it necessary to ask me such +a question," rejoined Reade gravely. + +"Reade! Reade! You can't imagine how grateful you'll find me if I really +can rely upon you to forget what you overheard to-night!" cried the +humiliated man. "And you, Mr. Prescott---may I depend upon you, also, +to preserve silence?" + +"I'm afraid, sir, you're putting me in Reade's class as an insulted man," +Dick smiled grimly. "My friend, the people of this country, in the person +of their President, have issued to me a commission certifying that I am +worthy to wear the shoulder-straps of an army officer. The shoulder-straps +stand for the strictest sense of honor in all things. If I depart, ever +so little, from the laws of honor, I prove my unfitness to wear +shoulder-straps. Have I answered you." + +There was silence for a few moments. Then, Mr. Bascomb, having smoked his +cigar out, tossed the butt away. + +"I'd like to offer you a little advice, Mr. Bascomb, if you won't think +I'm too forward." + +"What is it?" asked the president, turning briskly upon the young chief +engineer. + +"Just as long as you both live, Mr. Bascomb, Evarts is likely to bother +you, in one way or another. Even if he goes to prison himself he'll find +a way to bother you from the other side of the grated door. Mr. Bascomb, +why don't you yourself disclose this little affair in your past history +to the board of directors? Then it would be past any blackmailer's power +to harm you." + +"I could tell the directors in only one way," Mr. Bascomb answered, his +face growing sallow. "That would be to tell my story and hand in my +resignation in the same breath. Reade, you don't realize how much the +presidency of the Melliston Company means to me! To resign, or to be +kicked out, would end my career in the business world." + +In the near darkness a step sounded on the gravel. Then Mr. Prenter came +briskly forward. + +"Bascomb," said the treasurer of the company, "Reade's advice was good, +though wholly unnecessary. There is no need to tell the directors the +story of your past misfortune. Most of them know it already." + +The president's face grew grayish as he listened in torment. + +"Moreover," Mr. Prenter continued, "most of us have known all about the +matter since just before you were elected president." + +"And yet you allowed me to be elected!" cried Mr. Bascomb hoarsely. + +"Yes; because we looked up your life and your conduct since---well, ever +since you left the past behind and came out into business life again. +Our investigation showed that you had been living for years as an honest +man. The rest of us on the board are men---or think we are---and we voted, +informally, not to allow one misstep of yours to outweigh years of the most +upright living since." + +"Knowing it all, you elected me to be president of the company!" gasped +Mr. Bascomb, as though he could not believe his ears or his senses. + +"Now, let us hear no more about it," urged Mr. Prenter, cordially. "If I +listened just now---if I played the part of the eavesdropper, allow me to +explain my conduct by saying that I, too, was present to-night when you +talked with Evarts. I heard, and I knew that Reade and his friend heard. +I listened, just now, in order that I might make sure that Thomas Reade, +engineer, is a man of honor at all times. And now, let no one say a word +more." + +Some one else was coming. All on the porch turned and waited to see who it +was. Out of the shadows came a hang-dog looking sort of fellow. + +"Is Mr. Bascomb here?" asked the newcomer. + +"I am Mr. Bascomb," spoke the president. + +"Here's a note for you," said the man, handing over an envelope. + +Tom stepped inside, got a lantern and lighted it, placing it upon the porch +table. With the aid of this illumination Mr. Bascomb read the brief note +directed to him. + +"It's from Evarts," said the president, looking up with a quiet laugh. +"He commands me to come to him at once, in his cell, and to arrange some +way of getting out. My man," turning to the messenger, "are you going back +to Evarts?" + +"Yes," nodded the messenger, shifting his weight from one foot to another. + +"Go back to Evarts, then, and tell him that he'll have to threaten some one +else this time. Tell him that I am through with him." + +"Huh!" growled the hang-dog messenger. "I believe Evarts said that, if old +Bascomb wasn't quick, he'd make trouble for some one." + +"Tell Evarts," said Mr. Prenter, "that he can't make trouble for any one +but himself, and that he had better save his breath for the next time he +needs it." + +"Evarts will be awful mad, if I go back to him with any talk like that," +insinuated the messenger meaningly. + +"See here, fellow," interjected. Tom Reade, stepping forward quickly, "I'm +rather tired and out of condition to-night, but if you don't leave here as +fast as you can go, I'll kick you every step of the way for the first +half-mile back to Blixton! Do you think you understand me?" + +"I---I reckon I do," admitted the fellow. + +"Then start before you tempt my right foot! I'll give you five seconds +to get off." + +There could be no mistaking that order. The messenger started off, nor +did he glance backward as long as he was in sight. + +"You see how easily a chap like Evarts can be disposed of," smiled Mr. +Prenter. + +"He'll send back again for another try, within an hour," prophesied Mr. +Bascomb, wearily. + +"If he does," laughed Dick Prescott, shortly, "his second appeal won't +come by the same messenger." + +"Then you were near us, Mr. Prenter, when Evarts and the negro charged us?" +Tom inquired. + +"I was," smiled the treasurer. "That convicts me of cowardice, doesn't it, +in not having come to your aid at the moment of attack? I wasn't quite as +big a coward as I would seem, though. The truth is, I was behind you. Had +I jumped in in that exciting moment, you would have thought other enemies +were attacking from behind. You would have been confused and would have +lost the fight." + +"By Jove, sir, but that was quick thinking and shrewdness on your part!" +ejaculated Dick Prescott. + +"Then you acquit me of cowardice?" + +"No," smiled the young army officer, "for I hadn't thought of accusing you +of lack of courage." + +"I am glad you didn't," sighed the treasurer. "I would rather be suspected +of almost anything than of lacking manly courage. Afterwards I didn't make +my presence known to you, for, at that time, I didn't want you to know that +I had overheard a certain conversation." + +"My cowardice has made a dreadful mess of things in a lot of ways, hasn't +it?" demanded Mr. Bascomb bitterly. + +"That's all past now, so it doesn't matter," spoke up Tom Reade. "We have +just one move more to make in this baffling game, and then I fancy we shall +have won. When Mr. Sambo Ebony, as I have nicknamed him, is safely jailed +I think we shall find ourselves undisturbed in the future. We shall then +be permitted to go ahead and finish the million-dollar breakwater as a work +and a triumph of peace." + +"Every time that one of us opens his mouth," laughed Mr. Prenter, "I am +expecting to hear a big bang down by the breakwater to punctuate the +speaker's sentence. I wonder whether the scoundrels back of Sambo have +any more novel ways for setting off their big firecrackers around our +wall?" + +"It might not be a bad idea for me to get out on the watch again," Tom +suggested, rising. "If I get in more trouble than I can handle I'll just +yell 'Mr. Prenter,' for I shall know that he'll be within easy hearing +distance." + +The treasurer laughed, as he, too, rose. + +"My being so near you before, Reade, was just accident. I was prowling +about on my own account, when you and your army friend passed me in the +deep woods. I had an idea that you were out for some definite purpose, +and so I just trailed along at your rear in order to be near any excitement +that you might turn up." + +"And I suppose you're going to follow us this time, too," smiled Tom Reade. + +"Prenter," suggested the president of the company, "what do you say if you +and I prowl in some other direction? I've been such a miserable coward all +through this affair that now I'd like to go with you. If we run into any +trouble I'll try to show you that I'm not all coward." + +"Come along, Bascomb," agreed the treasurer cordially. "Reade, I give you +my word that we won't intentionally follow on your trail." + +At a nod from Tom, Dick was at his side. The two high school chums started +off with brisk steps. + +"Which way are you going?" whispered Dick. + +"Let's go down to the breakwater," suggested Tom. "I really ought to visit +it once in the night, despite the fact that Corbett is a wholly reliable +foreman, and that he has his own pick of workmen on patrol duty there." + +As the chums stepped out from under the trees in full view of the +breakwater site they beheld the lanterns of the patrol, like so many +fireflies, twinkling and bobbing here and there along the narrow-topped +retaining wall. + +Tom and Dick went out on the wall until they encountered the first workman +on patrol. Tom took this man's lantern and signaled the motor boat as it +stood in shore. + +"All going right, Corbett?" the young engineer hailed, as soon as the +"Morton" had come up alongside. + +"As far as I can see, Mr. Reade, there's not a sign of the enemy to-night. +But of course you know, sir, that we've been just as sure on other nights, +only to have a large part of the wall blown clean out of the water." + +"All I can say," Tom nodded, "is to go on keeping your eyes and ears open." + +"Yes, sir; you may be sure I'll do that," nodded the foreman. + +Then Reade and his army chum returned to the shore. + +"I guess it will be a wholly blind hunt," Tom laughed, "but I've a notion +for returning to the spot where we encountered Sambo Ebony before this +night." + +After they had left the beach well behind, the chums strolled in under the +trees of a rather sparse grove. + +Well in toward the center of the grove stood one tree larger than the rest. + +From behind this Sambo Ebony swiftly appeared, just at the right instant +for surprise. In each hand the negro held a huge automatic revolver. + +"Gemmen," chuckled the negro coolly, "Ah jess be nacherally obliged to yo' +both if yo'll stick yo' hands ez high up in de air ez yo' can h'ist 'em. +It am a long worm dat nebber turns, an' Ah'se done reckon dat Ah'se de +tu'ning worm to-night! Thumbs up, gemmen!" + +Despite Sambo's bantering tone there could be no doubt that to fail to obey +him would be to invite a swift fusillade. + +Reluctantly Tom Reade thrust his hands up skyward. Nor did Dick Prescott +hesitate to follow so prompt an example. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +CONCLUSION + + +"Now Ah reckon Ah'se done got yo'," laughed the big negro, insolently. "It +am a question ob w'ich one Ah wantah pick off fust!" + +In his wicked joy over having both the young engineer and the army officer +wholly at his mercy Sambo, his mouth open and his massive teeth showing +white in his grin, advanced nearer. + +Yet he did not fail to keep each of his enemies covered. He was watching +most alertly for any sign of rebellion on the part of his victims. + +Nor was there any doubt in the mind of either young man that the black, +after playing with them, meant to dispose of them as his possession of +pistols indicated. + +He would torment them first, then ruthlessly "shoot them up." + +"How long are we to keep our hands up?" asked Tom banteringly. + +It would be foolish to say that Reade was not afraid, but he was determined +to keep Ebony from discovering the fact. + +"Yo's to keep yo' hands up longer dan yo' can keep yo' moufs shut!" scowled +the black man, his ugly streak showing once more. + +"It makes me think of the way we used to play football," laughed Reade, +though there was not much mirth in his chuckle. + +"Shut yo' mouf, or Ah done gib yo' plenty to think erbout!" ordered Sambo +angrily. + +That word "football" set Dick Prescott to tingling. He knew there was some +hidden meaning in what Tom had said. + +"Are you trying to signal us, Sambo?" queried the army officer. + +That word "signal" was intended only for Tom's ear, for Lieutenant Prescott +was beginning to guess at the truth. + +"On the gridiron, on the gridiron!" hummed Tom, audibly, as he tried +clumsily to fit the words to the refrain of a popular song. + +Dick Prescott was "getting warm" on the scent of the hidden meaning. + +"Shut yo' mouf!" gruffly commanded the lack. "Ah doan' wantah tell yo' dat +again, neider." + +"Right foot---high foot!" chanted Tom. + +Mentally Dick Prescott jumped as though he had been shot. "Right +foot---high foot" had been one of their old kicking signals on the Gridley +High School eleven! + +Lieutenant Dick Prescott fairly throbbed as he now understood the covered +signal. + +"Now!" left Reade's lips with explosive energy, though the word was +low-spoken. + +At "right foot---high foot" and "now" each youth suddenly shot his right +foot up into the air. + +Tom's landed against Sambo's right wrist, kicking the automatic revolver +completely out of the negro's hands. + +Dick's kick landed against the black man's left wrist. The pistol held +in Sambo's left hand was discharged, though the muzzle had been driven up +at such an angle that the bullet passed harmlessly over Prescott's head. + +In a twinkling Ebony had been disarmed. + +Darting low, Tom grappled with the negro's legs. Then Reade rose swiftly, +toppling Sambo over backward. + +Dick Prescott bounded upon the prostrate foe, beating him with both fists. +Tom also threw himself into the melee. + +While the black might have thrashed either youth alone he was not equal to +handling both at the same time. + +"I've got him, now, and he'll behave, I guess," panted Tom Reade, at last. +"Slip off, Dick, and gather in the pistols." + +As Prescott did so Sambo made the last few efforts of which he was capable. +He had been hammered so hard, however, that Tom did not have extreme +difficulty in holding him down. + +"Now, lie still and take orders," warned Dick, pressing one of the pistols +against the black man's temple, "or I'll get excited and send you out of +this world for keeps!" + +Sambo Ebony thereupon dropped into sullen muttering, but did not offer to +resist. Prescott, as a soldier, had a businesslike way of handling weapons +that cowed the black man. + +Tom got up leisurely from the prostrate foe. + +"Now, you can stand a little farther off, Dick," he suggested, "and then +the fellow won't get a chance to tip you over with any trick. If he tries +to get up before he's told you can easily bring him to earth again, for +you've been taught the exact use of firearms." + +"Good idea," nodded Lieutenant Prescott, backing away a few feet. "Are you +going to run for assistance now, Tom?" + +"No," retorted Reade. "You're going to shoot for it." + +"Eh?" + +"Fire a shot into the air from each revolver. That, with the accidental +discharge of a moment go, will show any listener that there's trouble going +on over here. I miss my guess if the shots don't bring help very shortly." + +Bang! Bang! + +Nor was Reade's guess a wrong one. Not much time passed before steps were +heard hurrying in their direction. + +"Here! This way!" summoned Tom. + +"Are you hurt?" sounded Mr. Prenter's voice. + +"No; but we have Sambo Ebony here, and he's going to be hurt if he tries +to stir." + +President and treasurer of the Melliston Company raced to the spot. Barely +sixty seconds afterward Foreman Corbett, with four negroes and one Italian +laborer, also came up. + +"Corbett, you have the handcuffs I gave you the other night, haven't you?" +Tom asked. + +"Yes, sir. Here they are." + +Tom took the steel bracelets, ordering Mr. Sambo Ebony to turn over and +lie face downward, with his hands behind his back. Then the handcuffs were +slipped over the black wrists. + +"Now, Sambo," called Tom laughingly, "we'll set you on your feet and +whistle the rogues' march for you all the way." + +"Yah, yah, yah!" jeered one of the negroes who had come up with Foreman +Corbett, as he gazed contemptuously up and down the bulky figure of Mr. +Ebony. "Yo' done been tellin' us 'spectable cullud fo'ks dat de great way +to injye life was to be tough an' smaht, lak yo'se'f. How ye' feel erbout +it now? Doan' yo' wish yo' been mo' 'spectable yo'se'f? Doan' ye' done +wish dat ye' had been to camp-meeting a few times in yo' life? Doan' yo' +wish ye' been honest most er de time, an' been a hahd-wo'kin', +pay-ye'-bills niggah lak some ob de rest oh us? Yo' fool lump er tar, +yo' boun' ter go de way ob all de wicked---down to ye' grave in misery an' +sorrow. It's de way oh all ob yo' lazy, ugly, wuthless kind!" + +"I've heard philosophers talk," laughed Dick, in an aside to Tom Reade, +"but I can't say that I ever yet listened to a trained philosopher who had +the truth of life down any more pat than the negro workman who just now +gave his views." + +"On all matters of good behavior wise men of all degrees hold about the +same views," nodded Reade, "even though they may express their thoughts in +differing grades of speech. This good negro knows just where the bad negro +has failed in life." + +Mr. Sambo Ebony was marched off to jail. Even up to the minute when he +was sentenced to twenty years' imprisonment the big black stubbornly +refused to give his real name. He was therefore taken away to prison +under the name "Sambo Ebony." + +Evarts got off with eight years and four months in prison. He is still +serving that sentence. + +Hawkins and his crew of gamblers and bootleggers were sentenced to two +years apiece, as only misdemeanor charges could be preferred against them. + +From the foregoing it will be inferred that the proposed jail delivery by +other members of the gang from elsewhere did not come off according to +plan. The truth was that the citizens of Blixton, when appealed to, +organized a strong guard which was thrown around the jail. Doubtless the +gang-members were warned in time, and so did not attempt to commit +wholesale suicide by running against a citizens' posse. + +Mr. Bascomb is still president of the Melliston Company, and he is holding +up his head. No further fear of blackmailers oppresses him. + +Dick Prescott was able to remain several days longer---long enough, in +fact, to see the more substantial structure of the million-dollar +breakwater begin to go up just inside the completed retaining wall. + +Then Lieutenant Dick was obliged to resume his journey on to Fort Clowdry, +Colorado. What happened to Prescott, after joining the army as an officer, +is told in "_Uncle Sam's Boys on Field Duty_," the second volume in the +"_Boys of the Army Series_." + +Though Harry Hazelton was disappointed in missing some of the excitement at +Blixton, he had no occasion to complain in that respect when he and Tom +entered upon the next great undertaking of the young engineer pair. + +After the disappearance of the big black from the scene there was no +further trouble at the breakwater. + +Blixton is now an important though artificial harbor. With the completion +of the breakwater, and the building of a lighthouse, the next work +undertaken was the building of stone docks at which the steamships of the +Melliston Line now dock. + +The next adventures that befell Tom and Harry were destined to be the most +wonderful and exciting of all. These adventures must be reserved for +complete telling in the next volume in this series, which is published +under the title, "_The Young Engineers In The Lead; Or, The stroke That +Made Them Masters of Their Field_." + +It is a story of almost incredible efforts, backed by strong ambition, of +two American youths who had both the desire and the will to toil +unceasingly and at last reach their goal. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Young Engineers on the Gulf +by H. Irving Hancock + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14369 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfc652c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14369 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14369) diff --git a/old/14369.txt b/old/14369.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..653a749 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14369.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7036 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Young Engineers on the Gulf, by H. Irving Hancock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Young Engineers on the Gulf + The Dread Mystery of the Million Dollar Breakwater + +Author: H. Irving Hancock + +Release Date: December 16, 2004 [EBook #14369] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG ENGINEERS ON THE GULF *** + + + + +Produced by Jim Ludwig + + + + + +The Young Engineers on the Gulf +or +The Dread Mystery of the Million Dollar Breakwater + +By H. Irving Hancock + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTERS + I. The Mystery of a Black Night + II. The Call of One in Trouble + III. Vanishing into Thin Air + IV. Some One Calls Again + V. Wanted---Daylight and Divers + VI. Mr. Bascomb is Peevish + VII. Tom Isn't as Easy as He Looks + VIII. Mr. Prenter Investigates + IX. Invited To Leave Camp + X. The Night is Not Over + XI. A Message from a Coward + XII. An Engineer's Fighting Blood + XIII. Wishing It on Mr. Sambo + XIV. The Black Man's Turn + XV. A David for a Goliath + XVI. A Test of Real Nerve + XVII. Tom Makes an Unexpected Capture +XVIII. The Army "On the Job" + XIX. A New Mystery Peeps In + XX. A Secret in Sight + XXI. Evarts Hears a Noise + XXII. Mr. Bascomb Hears Bad News +XXIII. Ebony Says "Thumbs Up" + XXIV. Conclusion + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE MYSTERY OF A BLACK NIGHT + + +"I wish I had brought my electric flash out here with me," muttered Harry +Hazelton uneasily. + +"I told you that you'd better do it," chuckled Tom Reade. + +"But how could I know that the night would be pitch dark?" Harry demanded. +"I don't know this gulf weather yet, and fifteen minutes ago the stars were +out in full force. Now look at them!" + +"How can I look at them?" demanded Tom, halting. "My flashlight won't +pierce the clouds." + +Reade halted on his dark, dangerous footway, and Harry, just behind him, +uttered a sigh of relief and halted also. + +"I never was in such a place as this before." + +"You've been in many a worse place, though," rejoined Tom. "I never heard +you make half as much fuss, either." + +"I think something must be wrong with my head," ventured Harry. + +"Undoubtedly," Tom Reade agreed cheerily. + +"Hear that water," Harry went on, in a voice scarcely less disconsolate +than before. + +"Of course," nodded Tom. "But the water can hardly be termed a surprise. +We both knew that the Gulf of Mexico is here. We saw it several times +to-day." + +The two young men stood on a narrow ledge of stone that jutted out of the +water. This wall of stone was the first, outer or retaining wall of +masonry---the first work of constructing a great breakwater. At high tide, +this ledge was just fourteen inches above the level surface of the Gulf of +Mexico, and at the time of the above conversation it was within twenty +minutes of high tide. The top of this wall of masonry was thirty inches +wide, which made but a narrow footway for the two youths who, on a pitch +black night, were more than half a mile out from shore. + +On a pleasant night, for a young man with a steady head, the top of this +breakwater wall did not offer a troublesome footpath. In broad daylight +hundreds of laborers and masons swarmed over it, working side by side, or +on scows and dredges alongside. + +"Wait, and I'll show a light," volunteered Tom raising his foot-long +flashlight. + +Some seventy-five yards behind them a crawling snake-like figure flattened +itself out on the top of the rock wall. + +"Don't show the light just yet," pleaded Harry. "It might only make me +more dizzy." + +The flattened figure behind them wriggled noiselessly along. + +"Just listen to the water," continued Hazelton. "Tom, I'm half-inclined to +think that the water is roughening." + +"I believe it is," agreed Tom. + +"Fine time we'll have getting back, if a gale springs up from the +southward," muttered Harry. + +"See here, old fellow," interposed Tom vigorously, "you're not up to +concert pitch to-night. Now, I'll tell you what I'll do---first of all, +what _you'll_ do. You sit right down flat on the top of the wall. Then +I'll move on up forward and see what has been happening out there that +should boom shoreward with such a racket. You stay right here, and I'll +be back as soon as I've looked into the face of the mystery." + +"What do you take me for?" Harry asked almost fiercely. "A baby? Or a +cold-foot?" + +"Nothing like it," answered Tom Reade with reassuring positiveness. +"You're out of sorts, to-night. Your head, or your nerves, or some thing, +has gone back on you, and you walk through this blackness with half a +notion that you're going to walk over a precipice, or drop head-first into +some danger. With such a feeling it would be cruelty to let you go +forward, chum, and I'm not going to do it. I'll go alone." + +The crouching figure to the rear of the young engineers quivered as though +this separation of the two engineers on this black night was a thing +devoutly to be desired. + +"You're not going to do anything of the sort," retorted Harry Hazelton. +"I'm going forward with you. I'm going to stick to you. All I wanted was +a minute in which to brace myself. I've had that minute. Now get forward +with you. I'm on your heels!" + +Tom Reade shrugged his shoulders slightly. However, he did not object or +argue, for he realized that his chum was sensitive over any circumstance +that seemed to point to sudden failure of his courage. + +"Come along, then," urged Tom. "Wait just a second, though. I'll flash +the light ahead along the wall, to show you that it's all there, and just +where it lies." + +A narrow beam of light shot ahead as Tom pressed the spring of his pocket +flash lamp. + +A weird enough scene the night betrayed. In perspective the wall ahead +narrowed, until the two sides seemed to come to a point. Back of all was +the thick curtain of black that had settled down over the gulf. A little +farther out, too, the water seemed rougher. There would seem to be hardly +a doubt that a gale was brewing. + +"Shut that light off!" Hazelton commanded, fighting to repress a shudder. +"I can do better in the darkness. Now, go ahead, and I'll follow." + +Tom started, but he went slowly now, feeling that this pace was more suited +to the condition of his chum's nerves. Harry followed resolutely, though +none but himself knew how much effort it took for him to keep on in the +face of such a nameless yet terrible dread as now assailed him. + +To the rear a bulky, hulking figure rose and stood erect. With the softest +of steps this apparition of the night followed after them, until it stole +along, ghost-like, just behind Hazelton. Then a huge arm was raised, +threateningly, over Harry's head. + +At that particular moment, as though insensibly warned, Hazelton stopped, +half-wheeling. In the next second Harry bounded back just out of reach of +the descending arm, the hand of which held something. But in that backward +spring Harry, in order to save himself from pitching into the water, was +oblige to turn toward Reade. + +"Tom!" exploded the young engineer. "Flash the light here quickly!" + +In the instant, however, that Harry had sprung backward the figure had +slipped noiselessly into the water to the left. As Reade wheeled about, +throwing on the light, he let the ray fall in the water to the right of the +wall. But no sign of the intruder appeared; the water had closed +noiselessly over the now vanished figure. + +"What's the matter?" asked Reade, as he stood looking, then finally flashed +his light over to the other side of the wall. + +"I saw---" began Hazelton. Then changed to: "I thought---er---I +saw---oh, nonsense! You'll josh the life out of me!" + +"Not I," Tom affirmed gravely, as a thrill of pity, for what he deemed his +friend's unfortunate "nervous condition," shook him. "Tell me what you +saw, Harry." + +"Why, I thought I saw a big fellow---a black man, too---right behind me, +arm upraised, just ready to strike me." + +"Well, where is he?" Tom demanded blankly, flashing the light on either +side of the narrow wall-top. "See him anywhere now, chum?" + +Harry didn't. In fact, he hardly more than pretended to look. The thing +that had been so real a moment before was now utterly invisible. Hazelton +began to share his chum's suspicion as to the utter breakdown of his nerves +and powers of vision. + +"It was nothing, of course," said Harry, shamefacedly, but Tom vigorously +took the other side of the question. + +"See here, Harry, it must have been something," insisted Reade. "You're +not dreaming, and you're not crazy. It would take either one of those +conditions to make you see something that didn't really exist. No mere +nervous tremor is going to make you see something as tall as a man, +standing right over you, when no such thing exists." + +"Well, then, where is the fellow?" Harry Hazelton demanded, helplessly, as +he stared about. "There isn't any human being but ourselves in sight, +either on the wall or in the water. Your light shows that." + +The light did not quite show that, and could not, since the huge prowler +was now swimming gently under water, some seven or eight feet from the +surface. + +"We'll have to solve the question before we leave here," declared Tom. +"We can't have folks following us up in a ticklish place like this. +Besides, Harry, I'm willing to wager that your vision---whatever it +was---has some real connection with the mystery that we're going out +yonder to investigate. So we'll solve the puzzle that's right here before +we go forward to look at the bigger riddle that the dark now hides from us +out yonder. Use your eyes, lad, an I'll do the same with mine!" + +Neither Tom Reade nor Harry Hazelton are strangers to the readers of this +series, nor of the series that have preceded the present one. + +Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, now engineers in charge of a big breakwater +job on the Alabama gulf coast, were first introduced to our readers in the +"_Grammar School Boys Series_." There we met them as members of that +immortal band of American schoolboys known as Dick & Co. Back in the old +school days Dick Prescott had been the leader of Dick & Co., though, as all +our readers know, Prescott was not the sole genius of Dick & Co. Greg +Holmes, Dave Darrin, Dan Dalzell and Tom and Harry had been the other +members of that famous sextette of schoolboy athletes. + +After reading of the doings of Dick & Co. in the "_Grammar School Boys +Series_," our readers again followed them, through the events recorded in +the four volumes of the "_High School Boys Series_". Here their really +brilliant work Boys Series athletes was stirringly chronicled, as along +with scores of non-athletic adventures that befell them. + +At the close of the high school course Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes +secured appointments as cadets at the United States Military Academy at +West Point. All that befell them there is duly set forth in the "_West +Point Series_." Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell were fortunate enough to +secure appointments as midshipmen in the United States Naval Academy at +Annapolis, and their doings there are set forth in the "_Annapolis +Series_." + +Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, on the other hand, had felt no call to +military glory. For their work in life they longed to become part of the +great constructive force wielded by modern civil engineers. During the +latter part of their high school work they had studied hard with ambition +to become surveyors and civil engineers. In their school vacations they +had sought training and experience in the offices of an engineering firm +in their home town of Gridley. After being graduated from the Gridley High +School, Tom and Harry had done more work in the same offices. Then, in a +sudden desire for advancement, and possessed by the longing for a wider +field of endeavor, Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton had secured positions as +"cub engineers" on the construction work that was being done to rush a new +railway, system over the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. The stern, hard work +that lay before them, the many adventures in a rough wilderness, and the +chain of circumstances that at last placed Tom Reade in charge of the +railroad building, with Harry as first assistant engineer, are all told in +the first volume of this present series, "_The Young Engineers In +Colorado_." + +That great feat finished satisfactorily, the ambition of our young +engineers led them further afield, as told in "_The Young Engineers in +Arizona_." A great, man-killing quicksand had to be filled in and +effectively stopped from shifting. Reade & Hazelton undertook the task. +Incidentally Tom came into serious, dangerous conflict with gamblers and +other human birds-of-prey, who had heretofore fattened on the earnings of +the railway laborers. It was a tremendously exciting time that the young +engineers had in Arizona, but they at last got away with their lives and +were at the same time immensely successful in their undertaking. + +In "_The Young Engineers In Nevada_" we found our young friends under +changed conditions. While at work in Colorado and in Arizona Tom and +Harry had studied the occurrence of precious ores, and also the methods +of assaying and extracting ores. Having their time wholly to themselves +after finishing in Arizona the dauntless young pair went to Nevada, there +to study mining at first hand. In time they located a mining claim, though +there were other claimants, and around this latter fact hung an extremely +exciting story. Both young engineers nearly lost their lives in Nevada, +and met with many strenuous situations. Their sole idea in pushing their +mine forward to success was that the money so earned would enable them to +further their greatest ambition; they longed to have their own engineering +offices. In the end, their mine, which the young engineers had named "The +Ambition," proved a success. Thereupon they left their mining partner, Jim +Ferrers, in charge and went east to open their offices. + +We next found the young engineers engaged to the south of the United States +border. These adventures were fully set forth in the preceding volume in +this series, entitled "_The Young Engineers in Mexico_." Tom and Harry, +engaged to solve some problems in a great Mexican mine, found themselves +the intended tools of a pair of mine swindlers of wealth and influence. +From their first realization of the swindle Tom and Harry, even in the face +of threats of assured death, held out for an honest course. How they +struggled to save a syndicate of American investors from being swindled out +of millions of dollars was splendidly told in that fourth volume. + +And now we find our young friends down at the gulf coast town of Blixton, +Alabama. Here they are engaged in a kind of engineering work wholly unlike +any they had hitherto undertaken. The owners of the Melliston Steamship +Line, with a fleet of twenty-two freight steamships engaged in the West +Indian and Central American trade, had looked in vain for suitable dock +accommodations for their vessels, worth a total of more than six million +dollars. In their efforts to improve their service the Melliston owners +had found at Blixton a harbor that would have suited them excellently, but +for one objection. The bay at Blixton was too open to shelter vessels from +the severity of some of the winter gales. Up to the present time Blixton +had not been used for harbor purposes. But the Melliston owners had +conceived the idea that a great breakwater could be so built as to shelter +the waters of the bay. They had quietly bought up most of the shore front +of the little town, which had railway connection. Then they had searched +about for engineers capable of building the needed breakwater. Reade & +Hazelton, hearing of the project, had applied for the work. As the young +men furnished most excellent recommendations from former employers they had +finally secured the opportunity. + +By no means was the task an easy one, as will presently be shown. It was +a work that would have to be carried on in the very teeth of jealous +Nature. Tom and Harry were fully aware of the great difficulties that lay +before them. What they did not know was that they would presently have to +contend, also, with forces set loose by wicked human minds. What started +these untoward forces in operation, and how the forces worked out, will +soon be seen. + +Captain of a queer crew was Tom Reade, and Harry was his lieutenant. Of +the laborers, seven hundred in number, some four hundred were negroes; +there were also two hundred Italians and about a hundred Portuguese. Many, +of each race, were skilled masons; others were but unskilled laborers. +There were six foremen, all Americans, and a superintendent, also American. +There were a few more Americans and two or three Scotchmen, employed as +stationary engineers and in similar lines of work. + +A touch of the old Arizona trouble had invaded the camp. There had +recently been a pay-day, and gamblers had descended upon the camp of tents +and shanties. Once more Reade had driven off the gamblers, though this +time with less trouble than in Arizona. At Blixton, Tom had merely sent +for the four peace officers in the town of Blixton, and had had the +gamblers warned out of camp. They had gone, but there had been wrathful +mutterings among many of the workmen. + +The camp was a half mile back from the water's edge, on a low hillside. +Here the men of the outfit were settled. There had been mutinous +mutterings among some of the men, but so far there had been no open revolt. + +Tom, however, who had had considerable experience in such matters, looked +for some form of trouble before the smouldering excitement quieted. So did +Harry. + +On this dark night Tom had proposed that he and his chum take a stroll down +to the shore front to see whether all were well there. Soon after leaving +camp behind, the young engineers had started on a jog-trot. Just before +they reached the water's edge the wind had borne to their ears the faint +report of what must have been an explosion out over the waters of the gulf. + +"Trouble!" Tom whispered in his chum's ear. "Most likely some of the +rascals that we drove out of camp have been trying to set back our work +with dynamite. If they have done so we'll teach 'em a lesson if we can +catch them!" + +So the young engineers had started out over their narrow retaining wall. +We have seen how they had walked most of the distance when Harry had had +his sudden warning of the hostile arm uplifted over his head. + +"What could it have been?" demanded Tom in a low voice, as he continued to +cast the light from his flash lamp out over the waters on either side of +the wall. + +"It must have been my nervous imagination," admitted Harry. "Whew! But +it _did_ seem mighty real for the moment." + +"Then you're inclined, now, to believe that it was purely imagination?" +pursued Tom. + +"Ye---e---es, it must have been," assented Harry reluctantly. + +Tom made some final casts with the light. + +While they were conversing, well past the short radius of the flash lamp's +glare, a massive black head bobbed up and down with the waves. Out there +the huge negro who had swiftly vanished from the wall, and who had swum +under water for a long distance, was indolently treading water. Wholly at +home in the gulf, the man's black head blended with the darkness of the +water and the blackness of the night. + +"Oh, then," suggested Reade, "we may as well go along on our way. Plainly +there's nothing human around here to look at but ourselves." + +So they started slowly forward over the wall. Leisurely the black man swam +to the wall, taking up the dogged trail again in the darkness behind the +pair of young engineers. + +Several minutes more of cautious walking brought Tom Reade to a startled +halt. + +"Look there, Harry!" uttered Reade, stopping and throwing the light ahead. + +Out beyond them, not far from the end of the wall, some hundred feet of the +top had been torn away. For all the young engineers could see, the +foundations might have gone with the superstructure. + +"Dynamite!" Tom muttered grimly. "So this is the way our newly-found +enemies will fight us?" + +"It won't be such a big job to repair this gap," muttered Harry calmly. + +"No; but it'll take a good many dollars to pay the bills," retorted Tom. + +"Well, the expense can't be charged to us, anyway," maintained Harry. "We +didn't do this vandal's work, and we didn't authorize its being done." + +"No; but you know why it was done, Harry," Tom continued. "It was because +we drove the gamblers out of the camp, and thus made enemies for ourselves +on both sides of the camp lines." + +"Anyway, the company's officers can't blame us for trying to maintain +proper order in the camp," Hazelton insisted stoutly. + +"Not if we can stop the outrages with this one explosion, perhaps," replied +Tom thoughtfully. "Yet, if there are many more tricks like this one played +on the wall you'll find that the company's officers will be blaming us all +the way up to the skies and down again. Big corporations are all right on +enforcing morality until it hits their dividends too hard. Then you'll +find that the directors will be urging us to let gambling go on again if +the laborers insist on having it." + +"Well, we won't have gambling in the camp, anyway," Harry retorted +stubbornly. "We're simply looking after the interests of the men +themselves. I wonder why they can't see it, and act like men, not fools." + +"We're going to stop the gambling, and keep it stopped," Tom went on, his +jaws setting firmly together. "But, Harry, we're going to have a big row +on our hands, and various attempts against the company's property will be +made." + +"If the company's officers order us to let up on the gambling," proposed +Harry, "we can resign and get out of this business altogether." + +"We won't resign, and we won't knuckle down to any lot of swindlers either, +Harry!" cried Tom. "Some one is fighting us, and this wreck of a sea-wall +is the first proof. All right! If any one wants to fight us he shall find +that we know how to fight back, and that we can hit hard. Harry, from this +minute on we're after those crooks, and we'll make them realize that +there's some sting to us!" + +"Good enough!" cheered Hazelton. "I like that old-time fight talk! But +are you going to do anything to protect the wall to-night, Tom?" + +"I am," announced the young chief engineer. + +"What's the plan?" + +"Let me think," urged Reade. "Now, I believe, I have it. We'll send one +of the motor boats out here, with a foreman and four laborers. They can +arm themselves with clubs and patrol the water on both sides of the wall. +The 'Thomas Morton' has a small search-light on her that will be of use in +keeping a close eye over the wall." + +"That ought to stop the nonsense," Harry nodded. "But I don't imagine that +any further efforts to destroy the wall will be made tonight, anyway." + +"We'll have the night patrol out _every_ night after this," Tom declared. +"But I'm not so sure either, that another effort won't be made to-night, if +we don't put a watch on to stop this wicked business. Harry, do you mind +remaining out here while I run back and get the boat out?" + +"Why should I mind?" Hazelton wanted to know. + +"Well, I didn't know whether you would, or not---after seeing that +imaginary something behind you." + +"Don't laugh at me! I may have had a start, but you ought to be the first +to know, Tom, that I haven't frozen feet." + +"I do know it, Harry. You've been through too many perils to be suspected +of cowardice. Well, then, I'll run back." + +Tom Reade had really intended to leave the flash lamp with his chum, but +he forgot to do so, and, as he jogged steadily along over the wall he threw +the light ahead of him. As he got nearer shore Tom increased his jog to a +brisk run. + +Once, on the way, he passed the prowling negro without knowing it. That +huge fellow, seeing the ray of light come steadily near him, hesitated for +a few moments, then took to the water, swimming well out. After Reade had +passed, the fellow swam in toward the wall. + +Up on the wall climbed the negro. For a few minutes he crouched there, +shaking the water from his garments. Then, cautiously, he began to crawl +forward. + +"Boss Reade, he done gone in," muttered the prowler. "Boss Hazelton, Ah +reckon he's mah poultry!" + +Harry, keeping his lone vigil away out on the narrow retaining wall, was +growing sleepy. He had nearly forgotten his scare. Indeed, he was +inclined to look upon it as a trick of his own brain. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE CALL OF ONE IN TROUBLE + + +Once Tom Reade reached the solid land he let his long legs out into a brisk +run. + +With his years of practice on the Gridley High School athletic team he was +not one to lose his wind readily. + +So he made his way at the same speed all the way up to the camp. + +"Who dar?" called a negro watchman, as Tom raced up to the outskirts of +the camp. + +"Reade, chief engineer," Tom called, then wheeled and made off to the +right, where the more substantial barracks of the foremen stood. +Superintendent Renshaw lived in a two-story barrack still farther to the +right, as the guest of the young engineers. + +"_Quien vive_?" (who's there?) hailed another voice, between the two +barracks buildings. + +"So, Nicolas, you rascal, you haven't gone to bed?" demanded Tom, halting. +"What did I tell you about earlier hours?" + +Nicolas was the young Mexican servant whom Tom and Harry had brought back +with them from Mexico. Readers of the previous volume know all about this +faithful fellow. + +"You and Senor Hazelton, you waire not in bed," replied Nicolas stolidly. + +"You're not expected to stay up and watch over us as if we were babies, +Nicolas," spoke Tom, in a gentler voice. "You'd better turn in now." + +"Senor Hazelton, where is he?" insisted Nicolas, anxiously. + +"Oh, bother! Never mind where he is," Tom rejoined. "We won't either of +us be in for a little while yet. But you turn in now---at +once---instanter!" + +Then Tom bounded over to the little porch before the foremen's barracks, +where he pounded lustily on the door. + +"Who's there? What's wanted?" demanded a sleepy voice from the inside. + +"Is that you, Evarts?" called Reade. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Get on your duds and turn out as quickly as you can." + +"You want me?" yawned Evarts. + +"Now, see here, my man, if I didn't want you why on earth would I call you +out in the middle of the night?" + +"It's late," complained Evarts. + +"I know it. That's why I want you to get behind yourself and push +yourself," retorted the young chief engineer energetically. "Hustle!" + +Twice, while he waited impatiently, Tom kicked the toe of one boot against +the door to emphasize the need of haste. Other drowsy voices remonstrated. + +"Hang a man who has to sleep _all_ the time!" grunted Tom Reade. + +After several minutes the door opened, and a lanky, loose-jointed, +lantern-jawed man of some forty-odd years stepped out. + +"Well, what's up, Mr. Reade?" questioned the foreman, hiding a yawn behind +a bony, hairy hand. + +"You are, at last, thank goodness!" Tom exclaimed. "Evarts, I want you to +rout out four good men. Lift 'em to their feet and begin to throw the +clothes on 'em!" + +"It's pretty late to call men out of their beds, sir," mildly objected the +foreman. + +"No---it's early, but it can't be helped," Tom Reade retorted. "Hustle +'em out!" + +"Black or white?" sleepily inquired Evarts. + +"White, and Americans at that," Tom retorted. "Put none but Americans +on guard tonight, Evarts! What do you suppose has happened?" + +"Can't guess." + +"No! You're still too sleepy. Evarts, some scoundrels have blown out a +good part of our wall yonder." + +"Are you joking, Mr. Reade?" + +"No, sir; I am not. Dynamite must have been used. Hazelton and I heard +the noise of the blast, but of course we got out there too late to catch +any miscreant at the job." + +Evarts, at first, was inclined to regard the news with mild disbelief, but +he soon realized that something must have happened very nearly as the young +chief engineer had described. + +"Well, what are you standing there for?" Tom demanded, impatiently. "Are +you going to wait for daylight? Get the four men out---all Americans, mind +you. _Hustle_, man!" + +Evarts started away; toward the camp over to the left of them. As he did +so Tom darted in another direction. Two minutes later Tom was back, +piloting by one arm a man who was still engaged in rubbing the sleep out of +his eyes. This was Conlon, engineer of the motor boat, "Morton." + +"Where's Evarts?" Reade queried, impatiently. "Oh, Evarts! Where are you, +and what are you doing?" + +"Trying to get four men awake," bawled back the voice of the foreman, from +the distance. "As soon as I get one man on his feet the other three have +sunk back to sleep." + +"Wait until I get over there then!" called Tom, striding forward. "Come +along, Conlon! Don't you lag on me." + +"There! Do you fellows reckon you want Mr. Reade to bump in here and shake +you out?" sounded the warning voice of Evarts. + +As Tom and the motor boat's engine tender reached the little, box-like +shack from which Evarts's tones proceeded, four men, seated on the floor, +were seen to be lacing their shoes by the dim light of a lantern. + +"A nice lot you are!" called Tom crisply. "How many hours does it take you +to get awake when you're called in the middle of the night?" + +"This overtime warn't in the agreement," sleepily retorted one of the men. + +"You're wrong there," Reade informed him, vehemently. "Overtime _is_ in +the agreement for every man in this camp when it's wanted of him---from +the chief engineer all along the line. Now, you men oblige me by hustling. +I don't want to wait more than sixty seconds for the last man of you." + +"I've a good mind to crawl back into my bunk," growled another of the men. + +"All right," retorted Tom Reade, with suspicious cheerfulness. "Try it and +see what kind of fireworks I carry concealed on my person. Or, just lag a +little bit on me, and you'll see the same thing. Men, do you realize that +there's foul play afoot out on the retaining wall? We've got to go out +there in time to stop anything more happening. Now, you've got your shoes +on; grab the rest of your clothing and hustle it on as we make for the +beach. Come along!" + +Tom fairly got behind the men and pushed them outside. They would have +liked to complain, but they didn't. Some of them were larger and heavier +than the chief engineer, but they knew quite well that, at sign of any +trifling mutiny to-night, Reade would thrash them all. + +"If any one is trying to blow up the wall, Mr. Reade, it's all your fault, +anyway," ventured Evarts, as the little party started at a brisk walk for +the beach. "When you've got a mixed crowd of men working for you, you +shouldn't interfere too much with their amusements. Yet you would have the +gamblers run out of camp just when our boys were getting ready to have some +pleasant evenings." + +"I'll run out any one else who attempts to bring disorderly doings into +this camp," Tom retorted quietly. + +"Then there'll be some more of your seawalls blown up," Evarts warned him +gloomily. + +"If such a thing happens again there'll be some men hurt, and some others +breaking into prison," Tom answered with spirit. "Any evildoers that try +to set themselves up in business around here will soon wish they had kept +away---that's all." + +"It's a bad business," insisted Evarts, wagging his head. "When you have +a mixed crowd of workmen---" + +"I think you've said that before," Tom broke in coolly. "To-night we're +in too much of a hurry to listen to the same thing twice. Come on, men. +You can go a little faster than a walk. Jog a bit---I'll show you how." + +"This is pretty hard on men in the middle of the night," hinted Evarts, +after the jogging had gone on for a full minute. "It ain't right to-----" + +"Stop it, Evarts!" Tom cut in crisply. "I don't mind a little grumbling +at the right time, and I often do a bit myself, but not when I'm as rushed +as I am to-night. There's the dock ahead, men---a little faster spurt +now!" + +Tom urged his men along to the dock. With no loss of time they tumbled +aboard the "Morton," a broad, somewhat shallow, forty-foot motor boat of +open construction. + +"Get up and take the wheel, Evarts," Tom. directed. "Get at work on your +spark, Conlon, and I'll throw the drive-wheel over for you. Some of you +men cast, off!" + +In a very short time the "Morton" was going "put-put-put" away from the +dock. + +Tom, after seeing that everything was moving satisfactorily, turned around +to look at the four men huddled astern. + +"Don't any of you go to sleep," he urged. "A good part of our success +depends on how well you all keep awake and use your eyes and ears." + +That said, Tom Reade hastened forward, stationing himself close to Evarts, +who had the steering wheel. + +Some of the men astern began to talk. + +"Silence, if you please," Tom called softly. "Don't talk except on matters +of business. We want to be able to use our ears. Conlon, make your engine +a little less noisy if you can." + +Now Reade had leisure to wonder how matters had gone with Harry Hazelton. + +"Of course that threatening figure Harry saw behind him was an imaginary +one," Tom said to himself, but he felt uneasy nevertheless. + +A few moments later Reade clutched at one of Evarts's arms. + +"Did you hear that, man?" the young engineer demanded. + +"Hear what?" Evarts wanted to know. + +"It sounded like a yell out there yonder," Tom rejoined. + +"Didn't hear it, Mr. Reade." + +"There it goes again!" cried Tom, leaping up. "Some one is calling my +name. It must be Harry Hazelton, and he must want help. Conlon, slam it +to that engine of yours!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +VANISHING INTO THIN AIR + + +Left by himself Harry had stood, at first, motionless, or nearly so. He +strained his hearing in trying to detect any unusual sound of the night, +since it was so dark that vision would not aid him much. + +There was nothing, however, but the mournful sighing of the wind and the +lapping of the waves. It seemed to Hazelton that the wind was growing +gradually more brisk and the waves larger, but he was not sure of that +until the water commenced splashing across his shoes. The footway on the +masonry became more slippery in consequence. + +"With these rocks well wet down I wouldn't care much about having to run +back to the land," muttered Harry, dryly. "However, I won't have to go +back on my own feet. Tom will have the boat out here, and undoubtedly he +will plan to have us both taken back to shore after we get through cruising +around here. We should have brought the boat out in the first place." + +A night bird screamed, then flapped its wings close to Harry's face in its +flight past him. The young engineer saw the moving wings for an instant; +then they vanished into the black beyond. + +Farther out some other kind of bird screamed. The whole situation was a +weird one, but Harry was no coward, though a less courageous youth would +have found the situation hard on his nerves. + +Still another night bird screamed, of some species with which Hazelton was +wholly unacquainted. The cry was answered by some sort of strange call +from the shore. + +"It's a fine thing that I'm not superstitious," laughed the young engineer +to himself, "or I'd surely feel cold chills chasing each other up and down +my spine." + +As it was, Harry shivered slightly, though not from fear. With the +increasing wind it was growing chilly out there for one who could not warm +himself with exercise. + +"It's a long time, or it seems so," muttered the young engineer presently. +"Yet I'll wager that Tom is hustling himself and others on the very jump." + +Again the call of a night bird, and once more a sound from shore seemed +to answer it. + +"Real birds?" wondered Hazelton, with a start of sudden curiosity. "Or +have I been listening to human signals? If so, the signals can't cover +any good or honest purpose." + +That train of thought set him to listening more acutely than before. Yet, +as no more calls reached his ears the attention of the young engineer soon +began to flag. + +The monotonous lapping of the waves against the stone wall, the constant +splashing of water over the rocks and the steady blowing of the wind all +tended to make the watcher feel drowsy. + +"What on earth can be keeping good old Tom?" Harry wondered, more than +once. + +It would have been well, indeed, had Harry kept his eyes turned oftener +toward the shore end of the wall. In that case he might more speedily +have detected the wriggling, snake-like movement of the big negro moving +toward him. + +With great caution the huge prowler came onward, raising his head a few +inches every now and then and listening. The black man's nostrils moved +feverishly. He was using them, as a dog would have done, to scent any +signs of alarm on the part of the human quarry that he was after. + +At last Harry Hazelton turned sharply, for his own ears were attuned to +the stillnesses of the western forests and his hearing was unusually acute. +He had just heard a sound on the wall, not far away. Instantly the young +engineer was on the alert. + +Then his eyes, piercing the darkness, made out the crawling, dark form, +which did not appear to be more than fifty feet away from him. + +For a second or two Harry stared. But he knew there could be no snake as +broad as this crawling figure appeared to be. + +"Who's there?" Hazelton called quickly. + +The writhing mass became still, flattening itself against the bed of rock. +Hazelton was not to be deceived, however. + +"Who's there?" Harry repeated. "You had better talk up, my man!" + +Still no sound. Harry started forward to investigate. His foot touched +against a good sized fragment of rock left there by one of the masons. + +Without delay Harry reached down, picking up the rock, which was rather +more than half as large as his head. + +Holding this in his right hand Harry advanced with still more confidence, +for he felt himself to be armed. Hazelton had been a clever pitcher in +his high school days and knew that he could make this fragment of rock +land pretty close to where he wanted it to go. + +"Who are you?" demanded Hazelton, once more, as he stepped cautiously +forward. "No use in your keeping silent, my man. I see you and know that +you're there. Moreover, I'm going to drag the truth out of you as to what +you're doing out here on the wall at this hour of the night---and to-night +of all nights." + +Still no answer; Harry went steadily forward, until he was within a dozen +feet of the head of the flattened brute in human guise. Hazelton could now +see every line of his adversary plainly, though he could not make out the +fellow's face. + +"You'd better get up and talk," warned Harry, poising the rock fragment +for a throw. "If you don't you'll cast all the more suspicion upon +yourself. For the last time, my man, who are you and what are you doing +here?" + +The huge black figure might have been a log for all the answer that came +forth. + +"All right, then; it's your own fault," Harry Hazelton continued calmly. +"As you won't speak I'm going to crack the nut for myself. Your head will +be the nut, and this rock I have in my hand shall be the hammer. I'm going +to slam this rock on your head with all the force I've got, and I'm a good, +straight thrower." + +Yet, though Hazelton spoke with such confidence, he was far from meaning +all he said. In the first place, he had no legal right, under the +circumstances, to go as close to murder as it might be for him to throw the +rock at the rascal's head. Moreover, Harry would hardly have exercised +such a legal right, had he possessed it, without the strongest provocation. + +From the black prowler came a sudden, fierce snort. It sounded altogether +like defiance. + +"Ho---ho! You're finding your voice, are you, my man?" Hazelton jeered. +"Then talk up in time to save yourself!" + +Instead the huge black man began to writhe forward. + +"Stop that!" ordered Harry dangerously. He did not retreat from the +writhing human thing, but he took better aim, noting that the black man was +hatless and that his head offered a fair mark. "You're going to get hurt +in just about a second more," he added. + +Uttering another snort the bulky black sprang to his feet with surprising +agility in one of his great size. + +Harry now let his right hand fall back quickly. He was poising for the +throw in earnest, for there could no longer be any doubt that the stranger +was planning a deadly assault. + +"Take it, then, since you want it!" snapped out Harry Hazelton. The +fragment of rock left his hand, propelled with force and directed with +accurate aim at the negro's face. + +But the crafty black dodged just in time, at the same instant throwing up +his hands. + +Harry gasped as he saw his unknown assailant deftly catch the rock +fragment as though it had been a base ball. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" jeered the black, in a hoarse, rumbling voice. + +He threw back his hand, gathering impetus for the cast. Hazelton could do +nothing but throw himself on the defensive, planning to duplicate the black +man's catch. + +Then the stone came---but it did not go high, instead, by a jerk of his +wrist, the negro hurled it at Harry's right foot. + +That granite-like fragment struck Hazelton's foot with full force. + +"You---you scoundrel!" groaned Harry, in an all but admiring gasp. + +Like a flash he bent over, snatching up the fragment for his own use. + +"Now, I'll slam you into the middle of the Gulf of Mexico!" cried the young +engineer, vengefully, as he tried to straighten up. + +A groan escaped him. His injured foot was paining him more than he had +expected. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" harshly jeered this mysterious, evil creature. The +black man had halted as Harry prepared to throw, but he showed no sign of +hesitation. Though he stood still, he thrust his repulsive, leering face +forward, as though to offer that face as the best mark. + +Harry found that he could not stand straight---the pain in his injured foot +was now too intense. + +"Get back with you!" ordered Harry. "Get back if you don't want a heap +worse than you gave me." + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" came the sneering laugh. Then the stranger reached out +his hands as though to seize the youth. + +"I guess I'll have to do it---though not because I really want to hurt +you!" muttered Harry ruefully. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" + +There could be no question that the unknown was merely playing with him. +Little as he liked to make the ugly throw Harry knew that he had to do it. +When Hazelton had anything to do he believed in doing it well. So, putting +all possible force into his throw, Harry let the rock fragment fly, and +this time he was sure that his enemy would not be able to dodge in time. + +Nor did the black man make any seeming effort to dodge. + +Bump! Squarely in the black face the rock landed. Harry heard the sound +and felt ill within himself. Yet the black man did not stagger. With a +contemptuous snort he kicked the fragment of rock into the water as it +landed at his feet. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" + +For the first time Harry Hazelton felt positively dismayed. He saw the +long, massive arms moving, looking like a powerful ape's arms. There could +be no doubt that the unknown was ready for a spring. + +Harry did not retreat. Where could he run to? Only a few yards could he +go out towards the end of the wall. Then, if he wished to continue his +flight he could only take to the water. + +Only a glance was needed at the bulky, powerful frame of the unknown to +make it appear certain that the latter could swim two rods to the young +engineer's one. + +Harry decided instantly to stand his ground and to make the most valiant +fight possible on so slippery a footing as that presented by the top of +the retaining wall. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" + +It was as though the black unknown sought to terrify his intended victim +with his repetitions of that harsh, discordant laugh. Harry braced himself +and waited. + +Then, off shoreward, came the sound of "put-put-put." The motor boat, +"Morton," was putting out at last. + +"If I can keep this fellow busy for a few minutes, I can have all the help +I want," flashed through Hazelton's mind. So he opened his mouth, raising +his voice in a long, pent-up hail. + +"R e---e---e a d e! To---o---o---om R e a d e! Quick! Hazelton!" + +"Ha, ha!" jeered the unknown black. + +Then, suddenly, he leaped---not unexpectedly, however, for Harry had been +watching, cat-like. + +The unknown threw out his arms, seeking to wrap them around Hazelton. + +Not in vain had Harry been trained, season after season, on the athletic +ground of one of the best high school elevens in the United States. + +As the fellow leaped at him Harry crouched lower and went straight at his +opponent. + +Powerful as the stranger was he was no football player. Harry "tackled" +him in the neatest possible way, then strove to rise with this great +human being. + +In the first instant it seemed to the young engineer as though he were +trying to lift a mountain. His back felt as though it were snapping under +a giant's task. Yet, but for one fact, Hazelton would have risen with his +man, and would have hurled the mysterious one over into the waters of the +gulf. + +Just in the instant of victory Harry's injured right foot gave out under +him. With a stifled groan he sank down just as he threw his opponent. + +The black, instead of going into the water, landed hard on his back on the +top of the wall. He was up again, however, before Hazelton could repress +the pain in his foot and leap at the wretch. + +"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" came the tantalizing challenge. + +"Put-put-put!" sounded over the water, coming nearer all the time. + +"Re---e---e---e a d e! T o m R e a d e! Help---quick!" yelled Harry, +lustily. + +This, doubtless, was the first call that Tom, at the bow of the motor boat, +thought he heard. + +Uttering a snort, this time, instead of the laugh, the black sprang at his +intended prey. Their heads met, with considerable force. Then, with a +wild chuckle, the black wound his apelike arms around the young engineer. + +"Reade! Tom Reade! Reade!" bellowed Hazelton lustily, as he tried +desperately to free himself from the crushing embrace of the other. + +* * * * * + +Over the waters came the penetrating beam of a small search-light. The +"Morton" was coming nearer all the time, but the ray did not yet reach with +any great clearness the point where Harry Hazelton had been fighting for +his life against his strange foe in the black night. + +"Keep parallel with the wall, Evarts," Tom ordered, crisply. "Conlon, are +you pushing the engines for all it's worth?" + +"Yes, sir," came from the engine-tender. "This old craft isn't good for +quite seven miles' an hour, anyway." + +"There! Now I've picked up the part of the wall where there isn't any wall +in sight just now," said Tom, wincing over his own bull. "Hazelton ought +to be just this side of there." + +"There's no one near the breach," replied Evarts. + +"So I see," Reade admitted, in a tone of worriment. "Oh, well, Harry isn't +such an infant as to be wiped out all in one moment." + +"Where is Mr. Hazelton then?" inquired Evarts, as Tom swung the arc of the +searchlight in broad curves. + +"Great Scott! I wish I knew!" gasped Reade, his perplexity and his anxiety +growing with every second. "There appears to be no one on top of the +wall." + +Evarts ran in within a few feet of the wall, on the shore-side of the +breach. + +"Shall I land you there, sir?" questioned the foreman. + +"Presently," Tom nodded. "But now, back out a few feet and swing the +boat's nose around so that I can make a search with this light." Evarts +obeyed the order. Despite the smallness of the light, Reade was able to +send the searching beam of light back nearly one-half of the way to shore. +Nowhere was there any human being visible on the wall. + +"Harry! Hazelton!" bawled Tom, with all the power in his lungs. + +There was no answer. + +"Jupiter! You'll have to land me, I reckon," quaked Tom Reade. "Drive +her nose in---gently. I'll be ready to jump." + +"Be careful how you _do_ jump," warned Evarts. "It's mighty slippery on +that wall tonight." + +Tom poised himself as the boat moved in close. Then he took a light +leap, landing safely. + +Here the young chief engineer again brought his pocket flash lamp into +play. Closely he scanned the top of the wall all around where he knew he +had left his chum. + +But Harry was nowhere to be seen, nor, on the wet wall, could Tom find +any signs of a scuffle, or any other sign that gave him a clue. + +"Evarts, this is mighty mysterious!" groaned the young chief. + +"Unless---" hinted the foreman. + +"Unless what?" + +"Perhaps Mr. Hazelton ran along the walltop to the shore." + +"He'd have hailed us, then, in passing, wouldn't he?" choked Tom Reade. +"Besides, I had the light playing on this wall most of the way. If he +had run back we would have seen him, even if he hadn't hailed. And he +couldn't have run farther out to seaward. Evarts, I'm downright worried." + +Tom Reade might indeed well be worried over the grewsome mysteries of this +night of evil deeds. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SOME ONE CALLS AGAIN + + +Half an hour later Tom Reade leaped ashore at the little pier. + +"My orders, Mr. Reade." + +"They're brief and concise," Tom rejoined. "You're to cruise the length +of the wall, especially farther out from shore. Use your searchlight +freely. Keep the wall so guarded that no rascal can slip out there, either +over the wall or by boat, and do any damage. Mr. Evarts, the safety of +the wall until daylight is your whole charge." + +"Very good, sir. But I'm sure that nothing more will happen to the wall." + +"If anything does it will be up to you, Mr. Evarts," Tom assured him +grimly. "I'll hold you responsible." + +"I won't let anything happen, Mr. Reade. And I hope you find Mr. Hazelton +all right." + +"He may be up at camp," Tom answered, though in his heart he did not +believe it. + +Had Harry escaped whatever danger had menaced him, Tom knew very well that +his chum, after appealing for help, would by some means have signaled his +subsequent safety. + +However, Tom started toward camp at a run. He was wholly mystified. The +search in the neighborhood of the breach in the wall had been continued +until its hopelessness had been fully demonstrated. The search had also +been continued over the water, for a possible clue to the mystery. + +Though Tom ran, he felt himself choking, stifling. Despite all his efforts +to cheer himself the young chief engineer felt certain that his chum had +mysteriously met his fate, and that brave, dependable Harry Hazelton was no +more. + +Yet how could he have vanished so completely, and what possibly could have +happened to his assailant or assailants? + +"It'll be an awful night, until daylight," Tom groaned inwardly, as he +ran. "At daylight, of course, we can make a far better search, especially +over the water. But in the hours that must elapse---! It's going to be a +tough period of waiting!" + +Arrived at camp, Tom made straight for his own barracks, letting himself +in with a latch-key as soon as he could control his shaking hand +sufficiently to use the key. + +Tom bounded straight for the bed-room of the superintendent, at the rear +of the little building. + +"Mr. Renshaw!" shouted the young chief, throwing open the bed-room door. + +The barrack was lighted by electricity. Tom threw on the light, then +wheeled toward the bed, to find the superintendent sitting up, revolver +in hand. + +"Oh, it's you, is it?" gasped the superintendent. "Mr. Reade, in my +stupor from being aroused I was just on the point of shooting you for a +burglar. It's awful!" + +"You ought to throw that revolver to the bottom of the gulf," Tom rasped +out. + +"Not much!" retorted the superintendent. "Handling as mixed a crew as we +have on this work I wouldn't think of going about unarmed. And you ought +to go armed, too, Mr. Reade." + +"Bosh!" uttered Tom. He had a well-known objection to carrying a pistol. +Reade always maintained that a pistol-carrying man was a coward. A coward +is one who is afraid, and the man who is not afraid has no reason to carry +a weapon. + +"Renshaw," added Tom, "there's just one circumstance in which I would +carry a pistol---and that is, if I were carrying large sums of other +people's money. If I were a pay-master, or a bank messenger, I'd carry +a pistol, but under no other circumstances, outside of military service, +would I carry a weapon. But---are you thoroughly awake, now?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then, Mr. Renshaw, get up and hide that pistol somewhere. While you're +about it, listen to me. Some scoundrel has blown out a large portion of +our retaining wall to-night. I left Hazelton on guard at the point and +came ashore to get out the motor boat, 'Morton.' Before I could return +I heard Hazelton's call for help, and---he has disappeared! There's +wicked work on hand to-night. You'll have to get up and help me. Be quick +with your dressing. We've work to do to-night, and all of it is man's +work." + +Tom hastily added such other particulars as were needed. Renshaw, while +he dressed hurriedly, listened with a horror that he took no pains to +conceal. + +"Evarts claims that it's revenge work, on the part of some of our men, +because Hazelton and I stopped gambling in the camp," Tom continued. + +"It might be," Renshaw admitted thoughtfully. "But to me it seems that +there must be a lot more behind the whole terrible matter." + +"That's the way it strikes me, too," Tom nodded. "However, you're dressed, +so now we can hurry out and get busy." + +"What shall we do first?" Superintendent Renshaw inquired. + +"That's what I've been thinking over while you were dressing," Tom replied. +"Of course the one thing of real importance is to find Hazelton." + +"Killed, beyond a doubt," replied the older man. + +"I refuse to believe it," Tom retorted. "There's a mystery in his fate, +but I simply won't believe that Harry has been killed." + +"Then why didn't you hear from him further?" + +"That's the mystery." + +Tom had shaped their course for the barracks occupied by the foremen. He +bounded upon the little porch and began to hammer on the door with both +fists. + +"Turn out, everybody!" Tom bellowed. "Every foreman is on duty to-night. +Show a light, and let us in as soon as you can." + +Some one was heard stirring. Then Dill, one of the foremen, admitted the +callers. + +"Are all the others up?" Reade asked, sharply. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Good! Tell your associates to finish dressing as quickly as possible and +to meet me in the office." + +"The office" was a little room just inside the entrance to the building. +It was a room where the foremen sat and chatted in the evenings. + +"Put a double-hustle on, everyone," Tom called after Dill. + +"Yes, sir." + +Barely three minutes had passed when all of the six remaining foremen had +assembled. Tom plunged instantly into a brief account of what had +happened. + +"It seems to me, sir---" Dill began. + +"Keep it to yourself, then, if you please," Tom interrupted him gently. +"We haven't any time for opinions to-night. What we want is swift, +intelligent work, and a lot of it." + +Tom thereupon gave each man his directions. + +"Now, each of you go to your own gangs in the camp," he added. "Wake what +men you need and put 'em to work. If any of the men object to being taken +from their cots in the night, just lift them out. Don't stand any +nonsense. Let each foreman make it his business to know just what the men +under him are doing." + +One foreman was to take men with lanterns and go out carefully over every +foot of the seawall. Another was to organize a beach patrol. Still +another, with but two men, was to go into the town of Blixton and see if +any tidings of Hazelton could be obtained there. To one foreman fell the +task of searching carefully through camp before going to other work +assigned to him. + +"Now, get to work, all of you," Tom ordered. "As an extra inducement you +can tell your men that the one who finds Hazelton, whether dead or alive, +shall have a reward of one hundred dollars. Remember the watchword for +to-night, which is, 'hustle!'" + +In all, some sixty men were pulled from their cots. Tom, having given the +orders, walked down to the beach with his superintendent. + +"You've covered everything that's possible, I think, Mr. Reade," commented +the foreman. + +"I think I have. But there won't be any rest for any one until we have +found Hazelton." + +"Are you going to have the water dragged?" + +"Not before daylight---perhaps not then," Reade replied. "I can't bring +myself to believe that Harry was thrown into the water and that he drowned +there." + +"It'll take the chief a day or two to realize that," sighed the +superintendent to himself. "Yet that is exactly what has happened. The +chief won't believe it, though, until the body is found." + +Down on the beach there was really nothing for Tom and his head man to do +after the arrival of the foremen and their gangs. Everything went ahead in +an orderly manner. + +"I don't suppose you could get any rest, under the circumstances, Mr. +Reade," hinted the superintendent, "yet that is just what you are going +to need." + +"Rest?" echoed Tom, gazing at the man, in a strange, wide-eyed way, while +a grim smile flickered around the corners of his mouth. "What have rest +and I to do with each other just now?" + +"Yet there's nothing you can do here." + +"I am here, anyway," Reade retorted. "I'm on the spot---that's something." + +"Let me run back to the house and get you some blankets," urged the +superintendent. "Then you can lie down on the sand and rest. Of course +I know you can't sleep at present." + +"It is not necessary go back," volunteered a voice behind them. "I have +the blankets." + +"Nicolas!" gasped Tom, in surprise. "How did you know I was here?" + +"I wake up when you talk to Meester Renshaw," replied the Mexican simply. +"I listen. I know, now---poor Senor Hazelton!" + +Nicolas's voice broke, and, as he stepped closer, Tom beheld some large +tears trickling down the little Mexican's face. + +"Nicolas, you're a good fellow!" cried Tom, impulsively, "but I don't want +the blankets. Spread them on the sand, then lie down on them yourself +until I need you." + +"What---me? I lie down?" demanded Nicolas. "No, no! That impossible is. +I must walk, walk! Me? I am like the caged panther to-night. I want +nothing but find the enemy who have hurt Senor Hazelton. Then I jump on +the back of that enemy!" + +Saying which Nicolas saluted, and, as became his position of servant, fell +back some yards. But first he had dropped the blankets to the beach. + +The light of lanterns showed that the men of one gang were searching +thoroughly all along the top of the wall. Once in a while a man belonging +to the beach patrol passed the chief engineer and the superintendent, +reporting only that no signs of Harry had been found. + +An hour thus passed. Then, from over the water, as the lantern-bearing +searchers were returning, a dull explosion boomed across the water. + +"Great Scott!" quivered Tom. "There they go at it again, Mr. Renshaw! +Another section of the retaining wall has gone---blown up!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WANTED---DAYLIGHT AND DIVERS + + +In a trice the foreman of the gang on the wall wheeled his men about, +running them out seaward toward the scene of the latest explosion. That +much was plain from the twinkling of the rapidly-moving lanterns. + +"Come on, Renshaw!" Tom shouted. "You, too, Nicolas. You can pull an +oar." + +Reade was already racing out on to the small dock. He all but threw +himself into a rowboat that lay tied alongside. + +"Cast off and get in," Tom ordered his companions, as he pushed out a pair +of oars. "Nicolas, you're also good with a pair of oars. Mr. Renshaw, +you take the tiller. Inform me instantly when you see the first gleam of +the 'Morton's' search-light. Evarts ought to have caught the scoundrels +this time. Evidently he's been cruising softly without showing a light." + +Mr. Renshaw gathered up the tiller ropes as Tom pushed off from the dock. +Then the chief engineer addressed himself to the task of rowing. His firm +muscles, working at their best, shot the little craft ahead. Nicolas, at +the bow oars, did his best to keep up with his chief in the matter of +rowing, though the Mexican was neither an oarsman nor an athlete. + +"Don't you make out the motor boat's lights yet?" Tom asked impatiently, +after the first long spurt of rowing. + +"Not yet, sir," replied the superintendent. "I shan't miss the light when +it shows." + +A few minutes later the superintendent announced in a low voice: + +"There's some craft, motionless, just a bit ahead." + +Tom, without stopping his work at the oars, turned enough to glance +forward. + +"Why, it's---it's the 'Morton'!" he gasped. + +"I believe it is," declared the superintendent, staring keenly at the +nearly shapeless black mass ahead. + +Tom, with his jaws set close, bent harder than ever at the oars. + +"Senor!" wailed Nicolas, gaspingly. "If you do not go more easily I shall +expire for lack of breath. I cannot keep up with you." + +Reade fell into a slower, stronger stroke. + +"Drop the oars any time you want to, Nicolas," Reade urged. "There won't +be much more rowing to do, anyway." + +Presently Tom himself rested on his oars, as the boat, moving under its +own headway, approached the motor boat. + +"Going to board her on the quarter?" the superintendent asked. + +"No; by the bow," Tom answered. "Let go the tiller ropes. I'll pull +alongside." + +As they started to pass the boat a sound reached them that made Reade grow +wild with anger. Snore after snore, from five busy sleepers! + +Tom pulled softly up to the bow. + +"There's the anchor cable!" snorted Tom, Pointing to a rope that ran from +the bow of the "Morton" down into the water. "Did you ever see more +wicked neglect of important duty? And not even a lantern out to mark her +berth! Get aboard, Mr. Renshaw, and go aft to start the engine. Nicolas, +you take this boat astern and make fast. Don't wake the sleepers---poor, +tired shirkers!" + +Tom, in utter disgust, leaped aboard the boat at the bow. There, behind +the wheel, Evarts lay on the floor of the boat, his rolled-up coat serving +as a pillow. + +Almost noiselessly Tom hauled up the light anchor. Then he stood by the +wheel. + +"All ready at the engine, Mr. Reade!" called the superintendent, softly. + +"Let her go," Tom returned, "as soon as Nicolas boards." + +The Mexican was quickly aboard, after having made the rowboat's painter +fast. + +"Headway!" announced Renshaw, throwing over the drive-wheel of the engine. + +"Put-put-put!" sputtered the motor. Then the "Morton" began really to +move. With the first real throb of the engine the electric running lights +gleamed out. + +Aft Conlon began to stir. Then he opened his eyes. + +"What---" he began. + +"Silence!" commanded Mr. Renshaw. + +"Tell me who's at the wheel?" Conlon begged. + +"Mr. Reade," replied the superintendent, dryly. "Now, keep still!" + +"Whew---ew---ew!" whistled Conlon, in dire dismay. Then he sank back, +watching the engine with moody eyes. The other three men aft still slept. + +Presently Tom, in shifting his position, touched one foot lightly against +the foreman's head. Evarts half-awoke, then realized that the boat was +moving. + +"Who started this craft against my orders?" he drowsily demanded, as he +sat up. + +"I did," Tom retorted witheringly, "though I didn't hear your orders to +the contrary." + +"You---Mr. Reade?" gasped the foreman, leaping to his feet. + +"Yes---and a fine fellow you are to trust!" Tom rejoined. "I leave you +with very definite orders, and you go to sleep. Then there's another +explosion out on the wall and you sleep right along." + +"Another explosion?" blurted Evarts, rubbing his eyes with his fists. +"Here, let me have that wheel, sir. I'll have you out there quick!" + +"You've nothing more to do here," Tom answered, dryly, without yielding +the wheel. + +"What do you mean by that?" Evarts cried quickly. + +"Can't you guess?" wondered Reade. + +"Mr. Reade means," said Conlon, who had come forward, "that we're +fired---discharged." + +"Nonsense!" protested Evarts. + +"Conlon has guessed rightly, as far as you're concerned," Tom continued. +"To-morrow, Evarts, you go to Mr. Renshaw and get your pay. As for you, +Conlon, you're not discharged this time. Evarts admitted himself that it +was he who gave positive orders to tie the boat up at anchor. You were +under his orders, so I can't hold you responsible. Are you wide awake, +now?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Conlon meekly. + +"Then go back and attend to your engine. Look sharp for hail or bell." + +"I guess you'll find you can't quite get along without me," argued Evarts +moodily. "You'll find that you need me to manage some of the men you've +got." + +"You're through with this job, as I just did you the honor to inform you," +Tom responded quietly. "To-morrow Mr. Renshaw will pay you off up to +date." + +"If I'm bounced, then you'll pay me for the balance of the month, anyway!" +snarled the foreman defiantly. "You can't drop me without notice like +that." + +"You'll be paid to date only," Tom retorted. "You've been discharged for +wilful and serious neglect of duty, and you're not entitled to pay for the +balance of the month." + +"All right, then," retorted the other hotly. "I'll collect my money +through the courts. I'll show you!" + +"Just as you please," Reade replied indifferently. "But I imagine any +court will consider seven dollars a day pretty large pay for a man who +goes to sleep on duty." + +"See here, I'll---" + +"You'll keep quiet, Evarts, or you'll go overboard," Reade interrupted +significantly. "I happen to know that you can swim, so I won't be +bothered with you here if you insist on making a nuisance of yourself." + +Mr. Renshaw, having been relieved at the engine, now came forward. + +"Mr. Renshaw," directed the young chief engineer, "as soon after daylight +as it is convenient for you you'll pay Evarts off in full to date and let +him go. He threatens to sue if he is not paid to the end of the month, but +if he wants to we'll let the courts do our worrying." + +"All right, sir," nodded the superintendent. + +Evarts had dropped into a seat just forward of the engine. He sat there, +regarding Tom Reade with a baleful look of hate. + +"You're a success, all right, at one thing, and that's making enemies," +muttered the discharged foreman under his breath. + +Besides attending to the wheel Tom now reached out with one hand and +switched on the search-light, which he manipulated with one hand. Shortly +he found the spot where the portion of the wall had been blown away by the +first explosion. A hundred and fifty yards farther out he beheld the work +of the second explosion. Some seventy-five yards in length was the new +open space, where at least as much of the retaining wall as was visible +above the water had been blown out. + +"Slow down, Cordon," ordered Tom. "All we want is headway." + +"All right, sir." + +Tom drifted in within a few feet of the former site of the retaining wall. +The "Morton" moved slowly by, Tom, by the aid of the searchlight, noting +the extent of the disaster. + +"Get back aft, Evarts," ordered the young engineer, turning and beholding +the late foreman. "We don't want you here." + +For a moment or two it looked as though Evarts would refuse. Then, with +a growl, he rose and picked his way aft. By this time the other men who +had been in his gang were awake. They regarded their former foreman with +no great display of sympathy. + +"I'll confess I'm mystified," muttered Tom, watching the scene of the +latest explosion for some minutes after the engine had been stopped. +"When daylight comes and we can use the divers we ought to know a bit more +about how such a big blast is worked in the dead of night when the +scoundrels ought to make noise enough to be heard. It must have been a +series of connected blasts, all touched off at the same moment, Mr. +Renshaw, but even such a series is by no means easy to lay. And then the +blasts have to be drilled for, and then tamped." + +"As you say, sir," replied the superintendent, "a much clearer idea can be +formed when we have daylight and the divers." + +Tom held his watch to one side of the searchlight. + +"Nearly two hours yet until daylight, Mr. Renshaw," he announced. "And, +of course, it will be two or three hours after daylight before we can get +the divers at work. A fearful length of time to wait!" + +"You'd better go back to the shore, sir," urged the superintendent. + +"Not while this boat needs to be run," objected Reade. "For the rest of +the night I want a man here whom I can trust." + +"Will you trust me with the boat?" proposed the superintendent. + +"Why, of course!" + +"Then let me run back to the dock and put you ashore, Mr. Reade. After +that I'll come out here and patrol along the wall until broad daylight." + +That was accordingly done. The "Morton" lay alongside the dock, and +Nicolas instantly busied himself with casting off the rowboat and making +her fast to the pier instead. + +Evarts sullenly remained in the boat. + +"Come on, Evarts," spoke Tom quietly. + +"Mr. Reade," expostulated the late foreman, "I'm not going to be thrown +out of my job like this." + +"Which especial way of being thrown out do you prefer then?" Tom queried, +dryly. + +"I'm not going to be put out of my job until I've had at least one good +talk with you," insisted the foreman. + +"I'm afraid the time has passed for talking with you," Reade responded, +turning toward the shore. "You lost a great chance, to-night, to serve +the company with distinction, and your negligence cost the company a lot +of money through the second explosion. Are you coming out of that +boat---or shall I come back after you?" + +Evarts rose, with a surly air. He stepped slowly ashore, after which one +of the crew cast off. The engine began to move, and the "Morton" started +back to her post. + +"Oh, you feel fine and important, just at this minute!" grumbled the +discharged foreman, under his breath, glaring wickedly at the broad back +of the young chief engineer. "But I'll do something to take the +importance out of you before very long, Tom Reade!" + +Truth to tell, Tom, though he was still alert to the interests of his +employers, felt anything but important. The thought of Harry Hazelton's +unknown fate caused a great, choking lump in his throat as Reade stepped +from the pier to land. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MR. BASCOMB IS PEEVISH + + +At the first blush of dawn Tom despatched the tireless Nicolas to Blixton +to notify the police of the explosions and of the disappearance of Harry +Hazelton. + +Two men in blue, wearing stars on their coats, came over within an hour, +walked about and looked wise until noon. They discovered nothing whatever, +and their theories did not strike Reade as being worthy of attention. + +As soon as possible the divers were sent down at the two wrecked parts of +the retaining wall. These men reported that the breaches extended ten +feet beneath the surface at some points; only eight feet at other points. +The foundations of the walls were reported as being secure. Then Tom, +under the directions of two divers, put on a diver's suit and went down +himself, for the first time in his life. After some two hours, with +frequent ascents to the surface, the young chief engineer had satisfied +himself that the foundations were secure. Then he did some rapid figuring. + +"The loss will not exceed eight thousand dollars---the cost of rebuilding +the missing parts of the walls," Reade informed Superintendent Renshaw. + +"Only eight thousand dollars!" whistled the superintendent. + +"Well, that figure isn't anywhere nearly as high as I feared it might be," +Tom pursued. + +"But it will strike the directors of the Melliston Company as being pretty +big for an extra bill," muttered Renshaw. "Especially, since---" + +The superintendent paused. + +"You were going to say," smiled Tom, wanly, "since the loss wouldn't have +happened if I hadn't kicked the gamblers out of camp." + +"That's about the size of it, Mr. Reade," nodded Renshaw. "Directors of +big companies are less interested in moral reforms than in dividends. +They're likely to make a big kick over what your crusade has cost them +already, even if it costs them no more." + +"We'll see to it that it doesn't cost them any more," Tom retorted. +"Every night we'll watch that sea wall the way a mother does a sick baby. +There'll be no more explosions. As to the directors kicking over the +present expense, they'll have a prompt chance to do it. As soon as the +telegraph office in Blixton was open this morning I wired the president of +the company. Now, I'm going ashore. I can't do anything out here to help +you, can I?" + +"Nothing," replied Renshaw. "If I didn't know how foolish the advice would +sound, Mr. Reade, I'd urge you to take a nap." + +"I'll take a nap when I find it impossible to keep my eyes open any +longer," Tom compromised. "For the next few hours---work and lots of it." + +As yet no effort had been made to repair the breaches in the wall. The +different gangs were working that day in nearer shore. The divers, +gathered on a scow, were now waiting for the "Morton" to convey them back +to shore. Reade decided to go with them. + +"Twenty minutes to two," murmured Tom to himself, glancing at his watch as +the "Morton" went laboriously back over the dancing, glinting waves. +"There's a train due at Blixton at 1:30. By the time I get back to the +house I ought to find one or more officials of the company impatiently +waiting to jump on my devoted neck." + +Nor was Tom disappointed in this expectation. Pacing up and down on the +porch of the house occupied by the engineers and superintendent was George +C. Bascomb, president of the Melliston Company. Behind him stood Nicolas, +respectfully eager to do anything he could for the comfort of the great +man. + +"Ah, there you are, Reade," called President Bascomb in an irritated tone, +as he caught sight of the young engineer striding forward. "Now, what's +all this row that you wired us about?" + +"Will you come down to the water, and go out with me to look at the +damage, sir?" asked Tom, as he took the president's reluctantly offered +hand. + +"No," grunted Mr. Bascomb. "Let me hear the story first. Come inside +and tell me about it." + +"Our friend is not quite so gracious as he has been on former meetings," +thought Tom, as he led the way inside. "I wonder if he is going to get +cranky?" + +Inside was a little office room, as in the foremen's barracks. + +"Any decent cigars here?" questioned Mr. Bascomb, after exploring his own +pockets and finding them innocent of tobacco. + +"No, sir," Tom answered. "No one here smokes." + +"I've got to have a cigar," the president of the company insisted. + +"Then, sir, if you'll give Nicolas your orders, he'll run over to Blixton +and get you what you want." + +The Mexican departed in haste on the errand. + +"Now, first of all, Reade," began the president, "I am disgusted at +learning of one fool mistake that you've made." + +"What is that, sir?" Tom asked, coloring. + +"I've just learned that you discharged Evarts---one of our best and most +useful men." + +"I did discharge him, sir," Reade admitted. + +"Take him back, at once." + +"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't do it. He---" + +"I don't think you quite understand," broke in Mr. Bascomb coldly. "I +directed you to take Mr. Evarts back on this work." + +"I was about to tell you, sir, why I can't do anything of the sort. +I---" + +"Stop right there, Reade," ordered President Bascomb, in his most +aggressive, bullying manner. "The first point that we have to settle is +that Evarts must come back on the pay-roll and have his old position. Be +good enough to let that proposition sink in before we take up the second." + +"I am very sorry, sir," Tom murmured respectfully, "but I can't and won't +have Evarts back here. I won't have him around the work at all. Now what +is the second proposition, sir?" + +As Tom spoke he looked straight into Mr. Bascomb's eyes. The other glared +at him unbelievingly but angrily. + +"Young man, you don't appear to understand that I am president and head of +the Melliston Company." + +"I quite understand it, sir," Reade answered. "At the same time I am chief +engineer here, and I am committed to building the breakwater and dredging +out the enclosed bay or harbor, all within a certain fixed appropriation. +In order to keep my part of the bargain I must have men with me on whom I +can depend to the fullest limit. Evarts isn't such a man and I won't have +him on the work again." + +"He'll go on the pay-roll, anyway," snorted Mr. Bascomb. + +"I can't help what you may see fit to pay him, Mr. Bascomb, provided you +pay him somewhere else. But the fellow can't go on the pay-roll here for +the simple reason that he wouldn't be allowed to visit this construction +camp for the purpose of getting his money. Mr. Bascomb, I am not trying to +ride a high horse. I recognize that you are president of the company, and +that I must take all reasonable orders from you and carry them out to the +letter. Yet I can't take any orders that would simply hinder my work and +damage my reputation as an engineer. Evarts can't come back into this camp +as long as I am in charge here." + +"We'll take that up again presently," returned Mr. Bascomb, with an air of +ruffled dignity. "Now, there's another matter that we must discuss. I +know what has been done in the way of great damage to the retaining wall. +I also know that this damage came through enmity that you stirred up by +drumming certain parties out of this camp." + +"You refer, sir, I take it, to my act in having Blixton police officers +come in here and chase out some gamblers who had come here for the purpose +of winning the money of the workmen?" + +"That's it," nodded Bascomb. "In that matter you went too far---altogether +too far!" + +"I'm afraid I don't understand you, sir." + +"You mean, Reade, that you don't want to understand me," snapped the +president. "You admit having chased out the gamblers, don't you?" + +"Of course, I admit it, sir." + +"That was a bad move. In the future, Reade, you will not interfere with +any forms of amusement that the men may select for themselves in their +evening hours." + +Tom stared at the speaker in undisguised amazement. + +"But, Mr. Bascomb, the men are shamelessly robbed by the sharpers who come +here to gamble with them." + +"That's the men's own affair," scoffed the president. "Anyway, they have +a right to pitch away their wages if they want to. Reade, when you're as +old as I am you will understand that workmen who throw away their money +make the best workmen. They never have any savings, hence they must make +every effort to keep their jobs. A workman with savings becomes too +independent." + +"I am certain you have seen more of the world than I have, Mr. Bascomb," +Reade replied, respectfully. "At the same time I can't agree with you on +the point you have just stated. A workman with a bank account has always +a greater amount of self-respect, and a man who has self-respect is bound +to make a good citizen and a good workman. But there are still other +reasons why I had the gamblers chased out. Gambling here in the camp would +always create a great deal of disorder. Disorder destroys discipline, and +a camp like this, in order to give the best results in the way of work, +must have discipline. Moreover, the men, when gambling, remain up until +all hours of the night. A man who has been up most of the night can't give +an honest day's work in return for his wages. Unless the men get their +sleep and are kept in good condition we can't get the work out of them that +we have a right to expect." + +"The right man can _drive_ workmen," declared Mr. Bascomb, with emphasis. +"You'll have to drive your men. Get all the work out of them, but drop at +once this foolish policy of interfering with what they do after the whistle +blows. We can't have any more of this nonsense. It costs too much. By +the way, how much will it cost to repair the damage to the retaining +walls?" + +"About eight thousand dollars, sir, if my first figuring was correct," was +Reade's answer. + +"Eight thousand dollars!" scowled President Bascomb. "Now, Reade, doesn't +that amount of wanton, revengeful mischief teach you the folly of trying to +regulate camp life outside of working hours?" + +"I'm afraid it doesn't, sir." + +"Then you must be a fool, Reade!" + +"Thank you, sir. I will add that you're not the first man who has +suspected it." + +"You will, therefore, Reade," continued Mr. Bascomb, with his grandest air +of authority, "cause it to become known throughout the camp that you are +not going to interfere any further with any form of amusement that is +brought to the camp evenings by outsiders." + +"Is that proposition number two, sir?" queried the young chief engineer. + +"It is." + +"Then please don't misunderstand me, sir," Reade begged, respectfully, +"but it is declined, as is proposition number one." + +"Do you mean to say that you are going to go on with your fool way of +doing things?" + +"Yes, sir---until I am convinced that it is a fool way." + +"But I've just told you that it is," snapped Mr. Bascomb. + +"Then I say it very respectfully, sir, but pardon me for replying that I +don't consider the evidence very convincing. I have shown you why I must +have good order in the camp, and I have told you that I do not propose to +allow gambling or any other disorderly conduct to go on within camp limits. +I can't agree to these things, and then hope to win out by keeping the cost +of the work within the appropriation." + +"Do you feel that you'll keep within the appropriation by making enemies +who deliberately blow up our masonry?" glared Mr. Bascomb. + +"I doubt if there will be any more expense in that line, sir. I intend +to have such a watch kept over the wall as to prevent any further mischief +of the kind." + +"Watchmen are an item of expense, aren't they?" snorted the president. + +"Yes, sir; but next to nothing at all as compared with the mischief they +can prevent." + +"I have already told you how to prevent the mischief, Reade. Stop all of +your foolish nonsense and let the men have their old-time pastimes." + +"I can't do it, sir." + +"Have you paper, pen and ink here?" thundered Mr. Bascomb. "If so, bring +them." + +Tom quietly obeyed. + +"Reade," again thundered the president of the Melliston Company, "I have +had as much of your nonsense as I intend to stand. You are out of here, +from this minute. Take that pen and sign your resignation!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +TOM ISN'T AS EASY AS HE LOOKS + + +"I don't believe I'll do that, sir," murmured Tom, putting down the pen. + +"You don't, eh?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh, then you'd rather wait and be forced out?" + +"How about the contract, sir, between your company and Reade & Hazelton? +Contracts can't be broken as lightly as your words imply." + +"I'll break that contract, if I set out to," declared Mr. Bascomb, purpling +with half-suppressed rage. "I've every ground for breaking the contract. +You're running things with a high hand here, and disorganizing all our +efforts. No contract will stand on presentation of any such evidence as +that before a court." + +"I am quite willing to leave that to a court, if I have to," Reade +rejoined. His tones were decidedly cold. "Mr. Bascomb, even if I were +inclined to forfeit the contract I would have no legal right to do so +without the approval of my partner, Hazelton." + +"Humph! He's dead," snorted the president. + +"That yet remains to be proved, sir," Tom answered huskily, his voice +breaking slightly at thought of Harry. + +"How on earth do you think you could defend a contract against a wealthy +company like ours? Why, we could swamp you under our loose change alone. +How much money have you in the world? Two or three thousand dollars, +perhaps." + +"I've a little more than that," Tom Reade smiled. "For one thing, I'm a +third owner in the Ambition mine, on Indian Smoke Range, Nevada, and the +Ambition has been a dividend payer almost from the start. Hazelton owns +another third of the mine." + +"Eh?" gasped Mr. Bascomb, plainly taken aback. + +"Oh, we're not millionaires," Tom laughed easily. "Yet I fancy Hazelton +and I could raise enough money to fight any breach-of-contract case in +court. With a steady-paying mine, you know, we could even discount to +some extent the earnings of future years." + +"Oh, well, we don't want hard feelings," urged Mr. Bascomb, his manner +becoming more peaceable. "The plain truth is, Reade, that we're utterly +dissatisfied with your way of managing things here. When you know how the +Melliston Company feels toward you, you don't want to be impudent enough to +insist on hanging on, do you?" + +"I am certain that I speak for my partner, sir, when I state that we won't +drop the contract until we have fulfilled it," Tom muttered, coolly, but +with great firmness. + +"What's all this dispute about anyway, Bascomb?" a voice called cheerily +from the hallway. + +"Oh, it's you, is it, Prenter?" asked Mr. Bascomb, turning and not looking +overjoyed at the interruption. + +Simon F. Prenter was treasurer of the Melliston Company. Tom had met him +at the time of signing the engineers' contract with the company. Now Reade +sprang up to place a chair for the new arrival. + +"What was all the row about?" Mr. Prenter asked affably. He was a man of +about forty-five, rather stout, with light blue eyes that looked at one +with engaging candor. + +"I have been suggesting to Reade that he might resign," replied Mr. +Bascomb, stiffly. + +"Why?" asked Prenter, opening his eyes wider. + +"Because he has raised the mischief on this breakwater job. He has all +the men by their ears, and the camp in open mutiny." + +"So?" asked Mr. Prenter, looking astonished. + +"Exactly, and therefore I have called upon the young man to resign." + +"And he refuses?" queried the treasurer. "Most astounding obstinacy on the +part of so young a man when dealing with his elder." + +"I'll try to explain to you, Mr. Prenter," volunteered Reade, "just what +I've been trying to tell Mr. Bascomb." + +"I don't know that I need trouble you," replied Mr. Prenter, moving so that +he stood more behind the irate president. "I overheard what you were +telling him." + +Then the treasurer did a most unexpected thing. He winked broadly at the +young engineer. + +"Yes, Prenter," Mr. Bascomb went on, "this camp is in a state of mutiny. +The men are all at odds with their chief." + +"Strange," murmured the treasurer of the Melliston Company. "When I paused +on the porch, before entering, I thought I caught sight of unusual +activity down at the water front. Did you notice it, too, Bascomb?" + +"I noticed nothing of the sort," replied the president stiffly. "Am I to +infer, Prenter, that you are going to follow your occasional tactics and +try to laugh me out of my decision as president of the company?" + +"Oh, nothing of the sort, I assure you," hastily protested the treasurer. +But he found chance to drive another wink Tom Reade's way. The young chief +engineer could not but feel that an ally had suddenly come his way. + +"Now, what is the nature and extent of the mutiny?" asked Mr. Prenter. + +"First of all, eight thousand dollars' damage has been done to the +retaining wall of the breakwater," replied Mr. Bascomb. "That is, +according to Mr. Reade's figures, which very likely may prove to be too +low. Also, Mr. Hazelton has been murdered." + +"Hazelton---killed?" gasped Mr. Prenter showing genuine concern. "Of +course I know that the telegram to the office said that Hazelton was +missing, but I didn't suppose it was anything as tragic as a killing." + +"Well, Hazelton can't be found, so I haven't a doubt he was killed as part +of a general plan of mutiny and revenge on the part of the mixed crews of +men working here," declared Mr. Bascomb. + +"Oh, I sincerely hope that Hazelton hasn't lost his life here!" cried Mr. +Prenter. "Reade, aren't you going to take us down to the water front and +show us the extent of the damage?" + +"I shall be only too glad to do so, sir," Tom agreed. + +Even Mr. Bascomb consented at last to go. As they gained the porch +Nicolas rushed up with the cigars for which the president had sent him. +While Mr. Bascomb paused to light one, Mr. Prenter thrust an arm through +Tom's and led that youth down the road. + +"Now, Mr. Reade," murmured the treasurer, earnestly, "Mr. Bascomb, of +course, is our president, and I don't want you to treat him with the +slightest disrespect. But Bascomb isn't the majority stockholder nor the +whole board of directors, so I'll just drop this hint: When Bascomb talks +of resignations don't attach too serious importance to it until you receive +a resolution endorsing the same view and passed by the board of directors +of the company." + +"Thank you. I have no intention of resigning," smiled Tom. + +"Now, let's go on," continued Mr. Prenter. + +Mr. Bascomb, having his cigar lighted, seemed to prefer strolling in the +rear by himself. + +"Now, I don't want to give you any wrong impressions, Mr. Reade," went on +Mr. Prenter. "Mr. Bascomb is the head of our company, but other directors +represent more of the stock of the company than he does. I am one of them. +Sometimes Mr. Bascomb gets a bit hard-headed, and he is inclined to give +orders that others of us wouldn't approve. I judge that you and he were +having some dispute when I happened along." + +"I didn't regard it as a dispute, sir," Reade rejoined. "In the first +place, I had discharged, for incompetency and faithlessness, a foreman +named Evarts. + +"And Evarts is a pet of Mr. Bascomb's," smiled Mr. Prenter. "I imagine +that Evarts is even some sort of family connection who has to be looked +after and kept in a good job." + +"Anyway," Tom continued, "I explained that Evarts was worse than useless +here and that I couldn't have him in the camp or on the job." + +"Quite right, I fancy," nodded Mr. Prenter. "In the second place, Mr. +Bascomb ordered me to stop my crusade against the gamblers who had tried +to invade the camp and rob the men of their earnings. Hazelton and I had +that sort of row once out in Arizona---and we won out." + +"You deserve to win out here, too," remarked Mr. Prenter. "I have no +patience with anything but straight, uncompromising right. We can't +control the men, if they see fit to leave the camp at night, but you have +every right---and it's your duty---to see to it that no disorder is allowed +within camp limits. I, too, have heard something about your trouble here, +Mr. Reade, and I can promise you that the directors generally will sustain +you. So Mr. Bascomb demanded your resignation?" + +"He did, sir." + +"Let it go at that," smiled Mr. Prenter. "You may even, sometime, if it +will please Mr. Bascomb, hand him your resignation. I will see to it that +it doesn't get past the board of directors. Mr. Bascomb is irritable, and +sometimes he is a downright crank, but he is valuable to us just the same. +We feel, too, Reade, that you and Hazelton are just the men we need to put +this breakwater through in the best fashion." + +"Even though at least eight thousand dollars in damage was done last +night?" queried Tom. + +"Yes, even in the face of that. I am certain that you will know how to +forestall any more such spite work." + +"Now, I'm not altogether so sure of that, sir," Reade answered, quickly. +"Of course we'll be eternally vigilant after this, but the trick was done +last night so cleverly and mysteriously that we may be surprised again by +the plotters. Speaking of mystery, could anything be stranger, or harder +to explain, than what happened to poor Hazelton?" + +"There _was_ mystery for you!" nodded Mr. Prenter. "Have you any ideas +whatever on the subject of Hazelton's disappearance?" + +"Not the slightest," groaned Tom. "I know all the indications are that he +has been killed, and I ought to believe that such is the case. But I +simply won't believe it. Why, if he were killed, what became of the body?" + +"It's a puzzle," sighed Mr. Prenter. + +They were now nearing the land end of the breakwater wall. Mr. Bascomb +overtook them. Together the three strolled out along the wall, halting +frequently, to observe what the men were doing. It was their plan to keep +on until they came to the scene of the two explosions of the night before. + +"Just what are you doing here?" asked Mr. Bascomb, stopping and pointing to +a gang of men at work on a scow moored against the wall. + +"I can tell you, after a fashion, sir," Reade answered. "Yet this was a +part of Hazelton's performance. He had charge here, and knew ever so much +about it. Poor old Harry!" + +Behind them, at the beginning of the wall, a long, loud whistle sounded. + +In a moment fully a hundred of the workmen stood up, waved their caps and +cheered as though they had gone mad. + +Coming forward, with long strides, was Harry Hazelton, in the flesh! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MR. PRENTER INVESTIGATES + + +Tom suddenly felt dizzy. He wished to race back, to be the first to greet +his chum and press his hand. But just then Reade felt strangely +bewildered. + +"Of course I don't believe in ghosts!" Tom laughed nervously. + +"No!" chuckled Mr. Prenter. "This is real flesh and blood that is coming +toward us." + +Now, for the first time, Tom Reade knew just how fully he had believed, in +the inner temple of his soul, that Harry Hazelton had been actually killed. + +"Pulling my work to pieces, are you, Tom?" Harry called jovially. + +"P---p---pardon me for not coming to meet you, old fellow, b---b----but I'm +dumbfounded at seeing you," Tom called back. + +Harry, too, looked rather unsteady in his gait by the time he joined them. +The last few yards he tried to run along the wall. Tom thrust out an arm +and caught him just in time. + +"You've been hurt, Harry!" gasped Tom. + +"Yes, and I guess I'm a bit weak, even now," Hazelton mumbled. "Hurt? +Look at this." + +Hazelton uncovered his head, displaying a court-plaster bandage underneath +which clotted blood showed. + +"Where in the world have you been?" Tom quivered. + +"At sea," Harry answered, with an attempt at banter. + +"What happened to you?" + +"Tom, you remember the big black man I imagined that I saw last night?" + +"Of course I do." + +"He was a reality," Harry went on soberly. "After you had gone he appeared +again. We had it hot and heavy. I saw your boat coming, and I yelled---" + +"I heard you," Tom interposed. "We got along as speedily as we could." + +"And you didn't find me," finished Harry. "That brute hit me over the head +with something. We clinched and rolled into the gulf together. That was +the last that I remember clearly for some time. For a long time I had a +dream that I was bobbing about in water, and that I had my arms around a +floating log. By and by I came to sufficiently to discover that the dream +was a reality. I was holding to the log in grim earnest. How I came to +find the log I can't imagine. I think, while more than half unconscious, +I must have been swimming straight out into the gulf. Then I must have +touched the log and clung to it instinctively. Anyway, when I recovered +more fully I knew that the 'long-shore lights looked thousands of miles +away. I was too weak even to dream of trying to swim back, or to push +the log before me. So I got a stout piece of cord out of one of my pockets +and lashed myself to the log. I was afraid I might become unconscious +again. A part of the time I was unconscious. + +"Well after daylight I saw a sloop headed my way. It didn't look as though +it would go straight by either. So I waved my handkerchief---my hat was +gone. After a while the skipper of the sloop saw me and headed in for me. +It was a sloop that carries the mails to Hetherton, a village that has no +rail connection. + +"The captain hauled me aboard, questioned me, looked as though he more than +half doubted my yarn, and then put me to bed in the cabin of the sloop. +He attended to me as best he could. When we reached Hetherton, about noon, +a doctor patched me up. I had something to eat, bought this new hat, and +hired a driver to take me ten miles to the railway. Then I came over here +as soon as I could, and---pardon me, but I'm feeling weak. I'll sit down +right here." + +Harry sat down heavily on the wall. + +"Why didn't you wire me?" asked Tom. + +"Why, you didn't doubt but that I'd turn up as surely as any other bad +egg, did you?" questioned Harry, looking up. + +"Chum, I wouldn't admit it, even to myself, but I feared you were dead. +But we mustn't waste time talking. Describe that black man to me, and---" + +"And the company will hire detectives to start right on the trail of that +negro," interjected Mr. Prenter. + +"If---if the expense is really warranted," ended Mr. Bascomb, cautiously. + +"Warranted?" retorted the treasurer of the Melliston Company. "Why, it +is absolutely necessary to protect our work here! That big negro is the +key to the mystery. We must catch him if it costs us a thousand dollars." + +"Oh, well," assented President Bascomb, reluctantly. + +"I---I guess I'm all right to start in to work now," Harry suggested, +trying to rise. + +"Sit down---you're not!" replied Tom and Treasurer Prenter, in the same +breath, as both pressed Harry back to the wall. + +"We don't need work so much to-day," Mr. Prenter continued. "What we want +to do is to solve this mystery. You stay here, Hazelton. I'll go back +alone and find a 'bus or a carriage. Then we'll go back to camp and hold +a council of war. Something must be done, and we'll decide _how_ it's to +be done." + +Mr. Prenter, though no longer a young man, proved that he carried both +speed and agility in his feet. While he was gone Tom endeavored to get a +few more particulars from Harry, but Hazelton simply didn't know anything +that threw any more light on the dread mystery of the breakwater. + +"Then a million-dollar undertaking like this is to be constantly imperiled, +just because of a senseless moral crusade that you two young men are trying +to put through in the camp," declared Mr. Bascomb moodily. + +Tom covertly signaled his chum to pay no heed to this remark. + +Within a quarter of an hour Treasurer Prenter returned in a stage drawn by +two sorry looking horses. + +"This will carry us up to the house, if the affair doesn't break down," +Mr. Prenter called cheerily. "Come along, folks." + +Soon afterwards the four were back on the porch. Nicolas came gliding out +to see what he could do for their comfort. + +"Just circulate around and make sure that no one gets close enough to hear +what we're talking about," Mr. Prenter directed. He had already ordered +the driver of the stage to withdraw a few rods and await orders. + +"Now, then, Hazelton," continued the treasurer, "we're anxious to hear more +of your strange story." + +"I've told you all there is to it," protested Harry. + +"Surely, there must be some more to it." + +"There isn't." + +"Then, for the tale of an engineer who was all but murdered, and a case +enveloped in mystery from end to end," cried Mr. Prenter, "we have a most +singular scarcity of details." + +"There are only two more details needed, as it appears to me," Tom remarked +quietly. + +"Good! And what are they?" demanded the treasurer, wheeling around to look +keenly at the young chief engineer. + +"The two details we now need," Reade continued, "are, first, who was the +negro? Second, who was behind the negro in this rascally work?" + +"Only two points to be solved," suggested the treasurer mockingly, "but +pretty big points. Of course, the first point is---" + +"To find that negro, and get him jailed," Tom declared incisively. + +"Good enough!" nodded Mr. Prenter. "The detectives will find the negro." + +"Will they?" Tom asked. "Then that will be something new, indeed. I've +seen detectives employed a good deal, Mr. Prenter, and generally all they +catch are severe colds and items to stick in on the expense account." + +"Oh, there are some real detectives in this country," contended Mr. +Prenter. "We'll engage some of them, too." + +"The expense of hiring detectives will be very large," murmured Mr. +Bascomb uneasily. + +"Yes, it will," agreed the treasurer with a laugh. "But never mind. It's +always my task to find funds for the company, you know." + +"Harry," Tom broke in, "just what did that negro look like?" + +"About six-foot-three," answered Hazelton, slowly and thoughtfully. "He +was broad of shoulder and comparatively slim at the waist. He must weigh +from two hundred and twenty-five to thirty pounds. As to age, I couldn't +tell you whether he was nearer thirty or forty years. From his agility I +should place him in the thirty-year class." + +"Any beard?" + +"Smooth-faced." + +"Scars?" + +"I couldn't see that much in the dark." + +"Color of his clothes?" + +"Some darkish stuff---that's all I can say." + +"Could you pick him out of a crowd of negroes?" + +"Not if they were all of the same height and weight," Hazelton admitted. + +"Do you think you ever saw him before?" Reade pressed. + +"I'm sure that I never have," Harry replied. + +"Then he wasn't one of our men in this camp at any time?" Mr. Prenter +interjected. + +"We have never had a man in the camp as large as this negro," Harry +rejoined. + +"Such a very large black man ought not to be hard for the detectives to +locate," Prenter continued. + +"Very good, sir. Then you can let the sleuths have a try at the matter," +Tom suggested. + +"Have you any telegraph blanks here?" + +Tom went inside, coming out with a pad of blanks. Mr. Prenter addressed a +dispatch to the head of a detective agency in Mobile. + +"We'll get the 'bus driver to take this over to town," said Mr. Prenter, +as he signed the dispatch. + +"You had better send your dispatch by Nicolas, who is so faithful that he +can't be pumped, and he never talks about things that he shouldn't." + +The Mexican was accordingly sent away in the stage. When he returned +Nicolas busied himself with getting supper and setting it on the table. +Superintendent Renshaw returned from the work in time to join the others +at table. + +"Mr. Reade, how are you going to protect the works to-night?" inquired the +superintendent. + +"I'm going to order Foreman Corbett and twenty men to night duty," Tom +answered. "The motor boat will also be out to-night. We'll have every +bit of the wall watched by men with lanterns." + +"What you ought to do," suggested Treasurer Prenter, "is to light the +breakwater up with electric lights. You have steam power enough here, and +with a dynamo you could supply current to the lights." + +"There's the expense to be considered," mildly observed President Bascomb. + +"The expense is a good deal less than having the wall damaged by more +explosions," said Prenter, rather sharply. "Reade, how long would it take +you to get an electric light service going?" + +"It ought not to take more than three or four days, sir, if we can pick up +a suitable dynamo in Mobile. But there's another point to be considered. +We very likely would have to obtain the permission of the Washington +authorities before we could run a line of lights out into the Gulf of +Mexico. You see, sir, so many uncharted lights might confuse the +navigators of passing ships." + +"Write Washington, then, and find out where you stand in the matter," +directed the treasurer. + +"Yes, sir; I'll do that," Reade agreed. + +"But don't order any electrical supplies until you've got an estimate of +the cost and have it approved by me," hinted President Bascomb. This +cautious direction made Mr. Prenter shrug his shoulders. + +Dinner finished, all hands went out to sit on the porch. Mr. Bascomb soon +began to ask questions about the camp, the housing of the men, and about +other details of the camp. + +"Although it is dark it's still early. Wouldn't you like to go over +through the camp with us?" proposed Tom. + +Mr. Bascomb agreeing, the whole party set out, only Nicolas remaining +behind to keep an eye over the house. + +Though he did not then suspect it Tom was on the threshold of more trouble +in the camp. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +INVITED TO LEAVE CAMP + + +Lanterns hung here and there on poles lighted the camp. Men who toil hard +all day do not usually want a long evening. Many of the men were already +inside their tents or shacks, preparing for bed. + +At least two hundred, however, were still stirring in the streets of the +camp. Tom led his friends near one of the groups. A warning hiss was +heard, and then a man in a remote group, urged by his comrades, rose and +staggered toward a shack. Tom was at the man's side in an instant. He +proved to be an Italian. + +"My man, you appear to be intoxicated," Tom remarked, quietly, as he +gripped the Italian by the arm. + +"No spikka da English," hiccoughed the laborer. As he spoke he tried to +free himself from the engineer's grasp. He staggered, and would have +fallen, had not Tom prevented the fall. + +"Where's this man's gang-master?" Tom demanded, looking about him sharply, +while he still held the drunken man. + +None of the Italians addressed appeared to know. For the most part they +took refuge in the fact or the pretense that they didn't understand +English. + +"Get an Italian gang-master, Harry," Tom murmured softly. + +Hazelton bolted away, but was soon back, followed by a dark-skinned man who +came with apparent reluctance. + +"You're a gang-master?" Tom demanded, looking sharply at the man. "This +fellow is intoxicated." + +"Is he?" asked the gang-master. + +"Yes, he is," Tom declared, bluntly. "Now, where did the man get the +liquor." + +"I do not know," replied the gang-master, shrugging his shoulders. + +"Then it's your business to know---if he got his liquor in camp. We won't +allow any of that stuff in camp, and you gang-masters all know that." + +"I can't stop a man from going to town to get liquor," argued the +gang-master. + +"No; you can't," Tom admitted. "Neither can I. But it's your duty, +gang-master, to see that no liquor is brought back into camp. This man +hasn't been to town for the stuff either. He hasn't had time enough to go +away over to Blixton and get enough liquor to make him drunk. Moreover, +in his present condition, the fellow couldn't have walked back from town +the same evening. This man got his liquor in camp, and it will have to be +stopped. Now, put this man in his shack; see that he gets into bed. Then +come back to me." + +The gang-master obeyed. + +"We'll see if we can't put a complete stop to this sort of thing," Reade +muttered. + +"Now, do you think it's going to be well to interfere so much with the +movements of the men?" asked President Bascomb, in an undertone. "I am +afraid that you'll only start more dissatisfaction and more treachery among +them." + +"This having liquor in camp is going to be stopped, sir," Tom insisted. +"A keg of liquor will demoralize a whole campful of men like these. They +are an excitable lot, and they go crazy when there's any liquor around. If +we don't put a stop to it, then there'll be fights, and then a few murders +are most likely to follow. I've had plenty of experience with men such as +we have here, and the stopping of liquor in camp means our only safety, and +our only chance to have our work well done. Come along; let the +gang-master follow us." + +Tom went directly up to a group of workmen who had been looking curiously +on. Most of them were Italians, but there were a few negroes present. + +"Now; men, gather around me," Tom requested. "I want to talk to you. +Come close." + +As they did so Reade rested a hand on the shoulder of a negro. + +"My friend," said Tom, "you've been drinking to-night." + +"No, sah, boss! 'Deed I hasn't," replied the negro, earnestly. + +"Man, don't you think I have a nose?" Tom demanded, dryly. "Every time you +open your mouth I smell the fumes of the stuff. There are other men in +this group, too, who have been drinking. I want you all to realize that +this sort of thing must stop in this camp. We don't want fights and +killings, nor do we want men who wake up so seedy in the morning that they +can't do a proper day's work. As I look about me I see at least eight men +who have been drinking this evening. That shows me that some one has been +bringing liquor into the camp." + +Other workmen were now approaching, curious to know what was in the air. + +Tom, glancing about him, suddenly, fastened his gaze on one man in +particular. This was a lanky, sallow-looking chap of some thirty years. + +"See here, just what is your errand in this camp?" Reade demanded, +confronting the man. + +"Is it any of your particular business?" demanded the fellow, with some +insolence in his tone. + +"Yes; it is," Reade assured him, promptly. "I'm chief engineer in this +camp, and I've asked you what you are doing here!" + +"Is it against any law for an outsider to come into camp?" argued the +stranger. + +"Answer me," Tom insisted, stepping closer. "What are you doing in this +camp?" + +"I won't tell you," came the surly retort. + +"You don't have to," Reade snapped, as he suddenly ran one hand over the +sallow man's clothing. Out of the fellow's hip pocket Tom briskly brought +a quart-bottle to light. It was about half-filled with some liquid. + +"Here, give that back to me!" growled the fellow. "It's mine." + +"I'm glad you admit it," rejoined Reade, drawing the cork and taking a +sniff as Hazelton slipped in front of him to protect him. "This is liquor. +So you're the bootlegger who is bringing this stuff into camp to sell to +the men? You won't come here after to-night if I can find any way of +keeping you out." + +Reade finished his remark by re-corking the bottle and throwing it down +hard on the ground. The bottle was smashed to flinders, the liquor running +over the ground. + +"Here, you! You had no right to do that!" roared the fellow. He made an +effort to reach Tom, but Harry gave the fellow a shove that sent him +spinning back. "You'll pay me for that stuff, Reade, since you destroyed +it." + +"How much?" asked Tom, artlessly. + +"A dollar and a half," insisted the stranger, coming forward as Reade +thrust one hand into trousers pocket. + +Tom withdrew the hand, laughing. + +"Much obliged, my friend," mocked the young chief engineer. "You've +confessed all that I wanted to know. You've tried to charge me the price +of a pint of liquor sold in single drinks. That confesses that you've been +in camp to sell liquor to the men. I shall pay you nothing, for you're +here against the law and against the camp regulations. You're engaged in +selling liquor illegally. If I catch you in camp again on that business, +my friend, I'll arrest you and hold you until the officers come over from +Blixton and take you." + +Then, in the next moment, Tom suddenly shot out: + +"Harry, see to it that our friend doesn't run away just yet!" + +"What are you up to?" demanded the man, as Tom stepped close once more, +while Harry rested a hand on his shoulder. + +"For a rather warm evening," Reade rejoined, "it strikes me that it's a bit +odd for you to be wearing a long top-coat. I'm going to look you over a +bit." + +"You get out and keep away from me!" blustered the man, raising one of his +fists. But Harry caught at that arm and held it. Treasurer Prenter, who +had been looking on with keen interest, seized the other arm. + +"You let go of me, or you'll run up against the law for assault!" warned +the stranger. + +His captors, however, held him, while Tom rapidly ran his hands over the +stranger's clothing. As a result, within less than a full minute, Tom had +removed two full quart bottles and six smaller ones from the fellow's +various pockets. All of these the young chief engineer threw on the +ground, smashing them. + +From the crowd gathered about, which numbered more than sixty men of three +different races, a howl went up. President Bascomb began to shiver. + +"I'll make you sweat for this!" raved the stranger. + +"Let go of the fellow, please," said Tom. Then, as Harry and Mr. Prenter +stepped aside, Reade added, "I'll admit, Mr. Bootleg, that I've behaved in +a rather high-handed fashion with you. But I'm justified in doing it. You +have been breaking the law of the state, moving through this camp and +selling liquor. You represent the scum of the otherwise decent population +of Alabama. If you think you've any redress in the courts, my name is +Reade and you can hire a lawyer and get after me as hard and as fast as +you like." + +"I'll take personal satisfaction out of you!" stormed the fellow. + +"All right," Tom agreed laconically. "You may start now, if you feel like +doing it. I'll agree that none of my friends or workmen shall take any +part in anything you feel like starting. If you can thrash me then you +shall be allowed to depart in peace after you've done it." + +Tom did not put up his hands, though he watched keenly to see whether the +stranger meant to attack him. The stranger muttered unintelligible +threats, then he turned to the laborers pressing about him. + +"Men," he demanded, "are you going to be free, or are you going to allow +yourselves to be treated like a lot of slaves by this boy?" + +"If that's all you've got to say," Tom warned "you may as well start now." + +"Start?" scoffed the sallow-faced one. "Where to?" + +"Anywhere, outside of this camp," Tom informed him. "You can't stay here +any longer, and you can't come here again. If I catch you, again, on this +company's property, I'll see to it that you're arrested, and locked up for +trespass." + +"That's the way to talk!" nodded Treasurer Prenter, approvingly. + +"I guess I'll go when I get good and ready," asserted the stranger. + +In the front ranks of the crowd pressing around them, Reade now discerned +the face of the Italian gang-master with whom he had talked recently. + +"What's your name?" Tom demanded, turning about on the gang-master. + +"Scipio, sir." + +"Then, Scipio, take four men, and escort this fellow out of the camp. +Don't use any force unless you have to, but see to it that this fellow +leaves camp as quickly as he can walk---or be dragged. Start him now." + +Gang-master Scipio plainly didn't like the job, but he liked it better than +he did the idea of being discharged. So he spoke to four Italians about +him, and the five surrounded the man. + +"Hol' on dar, Boss Reade!" spoke up a negro. "Ef yo' carry dis matter too +far, den dere's gwine to be a strike on dis wohk. Jess ez dis gemman sez, +we ain't no slaves. Yo' try to stop all our pleasures ebenings, an' dar's +gwine be a strike---shuah!" + +"You may strike right now, if you wish to," Tom retorted, facing the last +speaker. "Mr. Renshaw will be prepared to pay you off within hour. Any +other man in this camp who isn't content to get along without liquor and +gambling may as well strike at the same time. Mr. Renshaw, it's half-past +eight. At nine o'clock please be at the house ready to pay off any man who +isn't satisfied to live and work in a camp where neither drinking nor +gambling is allowed. Scipio, why haven't you started that fellow away from +here?" + +"Too bigga crowd in front of us," replied the Italian gang-master, +shrugging his shoulders. + +"Come on, Harry," Tom replied. "We'll see if we can't make a way through +the crowd." The two young engineers placed themselves at the head of the +squad, and succeeded quickly in opening up a passage through a crowd that +seemed to be at least half hostile. + +Thus Tom found himself soon face to face with an American. + +"Evarts!" Reade cried, angrily. "What are you doing here?" + +"I'm here by permission," snarled the discharged foreman. + +"Whose permission?" Tom insisted, briskly. + +"Mr. Bascomb's," replied Evarts, with a leer so full of satisfaction that +Reade didn't doubt the truth of the statement. + +"Mr. Bascomb," Tom called, "did you tell Evarts that he might visit this +camp?" + +"Yes; I did," admitted the president of the company, stiffly. + +"Then I'm sorry to say that Evarts has been misinformed," Tom went on. +"He _can't_ visit this camp. He's too much of a trouble-maker here." + +"Shut up your talk!" jeered Evarts roughly. "Don't try to give orders to +the president of the company that hires and pays you." + +"Mr. Bascomb is the head of the company that employs me," Tom assented. +"But I am in charge here, and am responsible, with Mr. Hazelton, for the +good order of the camp and the success of the work. Therefore, Evarts, +you'll leave camp now, and you won't come back again under pain of being +punished for trespass." + +"Oh, now see here, Reade---" began Mr. Bascomb angrily, as he started +forward. But Treasurer Prenter caught Bascomb by the arm, whispering in +his ear. + +"Waiting for you, Mr. Bascomb," called Evarts. + +"I guess you'd better go," called the president, rather shamefacedly, after +his talk with Mr. Prenter. "I guess maybe Reade is right. At all events +his contract places him in charge of this camp." + +"Humph, Evarts, a lot of good you can do us here, can't you?" sneered the +sallow-faced fellow. + +Tom looked first at one, and then at the other of the pair. + +"So," guessed Reade shrewdly, "Evarts has been at the head of this game of +unlawful liquor selling in this camp. There are other vendors here, too, +are there?" + +"You lie!" yelled the discharged foreman. + +"You may prove that, at your convenience," Reade replied, without even a +heightening of his color. "For the present, though, you're going to get +out of camp and stay out." + +"I called you a liar," sneered Evarts, "and you haven't the sand to fight +about it." + +"Fighting with one of your stripe isn't worth the while," Tom retorted, +shortly. "Come along, Evarts. I'll show you the way out of camp." + +As Reade spoke he took hold of the ex-foreman's arm gently. + +"Leggo of me!" raged the foreman, clenching and raising one of his fists. + +"Don't make the mistake of touching me," urged Tom, quietly, "but come +along. This way out of camp!" + +Evarts swung suddenly, driving a fist straight at Reade's face. But the +young chief engineer was always alert at such times. One of his feet moved +in between Evarts's feet, and the ex-foreman flopped down on his back. + +"Come on, now!" commanded Tom, jerking the fallen foe to his feet. "This +time you'll hurry out of camp." + +"Are you going to stand for it, men?" yelled Evarts, his face aflame with +anger. "Come on---all of you! Show that you're not a pack of cowards and +slaves!" + +From more than a hundred throats came an ominous yell. The crowd surged +around Reade and Hazelton. Mr. Bascomb, seeing his chance, dodged and ran +out of the crowd. But Mr. Prenter, with a spring, placed himself at Tom +Reade's side. + +"Come on, men!" yelled the sallow-faced fellow. + +"Run dem w'ite slave-drivers outah camp!" yelled a score of negroes. Yells +in Italian and Portuguese also filled the air. + +In an instant it was plain that Tom Reade had stirred up more than a +hornet's nest. + +"Come on, Harry," spoke Tom, firmly. "Let's run this pair out of camp. +Then we'll come back and look for more trouble-makers and trouble-hunters! +Make way there, men!" + +One excitable Italian rushed through the crowd, brandishing a revolver. As +alarmed men fell back, the Italian confronted Reade, holding the revolver +almost in the latter's face and firing. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE NIGHT IS NOT OVER + + +Tom winced slightly, as the pistol was discharged, for some of the powder +burned his face. + +Mr. Prenter, who stood beside him, had knocked up the barrel so that the +bullet sped over the heads of the crowd. + +In a twinkling Tom had hold of the Italian's arm. He wrenched the pistol +away, spraining the Italian's arm. Instantly Tom "broke" the weapon, +dropping the cartridges out into his pocket. Then he hurled the weapon as +far as he could throw it into the shadows of the night. + +"You breaka my arm!" snarled the Italian, showing his white teeth. + +"Your face is next!" Tom retorted, letting his fist drive. It caught the +Italian on the nose, breaking that member. + +"Kill him! Kill Reade!" came the hoarse yell on the night air. + +"You'll find it a tough job, men!" Tom called, warningly. "I won't die +easily, and I'll take a few men along with me when I go. Now, stand out +of the way! I shall consider any man an enemy who blocks my path!" + +Tom hit resolutely out, at first. Soon the men crowding about him began +to realize that they had taken a large contract on their hands in +attempting to cow this young engineer. + +Then, too, another element entered into the fight. While there were some +wild and troublesome men in camp, there were also many straightforward, +excellent fellows among them. There were church-going negroes there, +Italians who were thrifty and law-abiding, and Portuguese who loved nothing +better than law and order. + +The better element among the men came thronging forward, willing and ready +to fight under such excellent generalship as they knew they would find with +Tom Reade. + +Other men, of both stripes, came pouring forth from shanties and tents. + +The yells and the shot had alarmed the foremen, who now came along on +the run. + +"Dill, Johnson!" Tom called, as he saw some of the foremen trying to push +or punch their way through the throng. "Help me to run Evarts and this +other trouble-hunter out of the camp!" + +The menacing yells grew fewer and fainter as the cheers of loyal laborers +rose. + +The foremen seized both trouble makers and began to run them along with +more skill than gentleness. + +Tom ran along, keeping his glance on the enraged men of the camp, many of +whom followed on the outskirts of the crowd. Harry Hazelton occupied +himself in similar fashion. + +"Now, you get out of this---and stay out!" ordered Foreman Dill, giving +Evarts a shove that sent him spinning across the boundary line of the +company's property. + +"You, too!" growled Foreman Johnson, giving the bootlegger a kick that sent +him staggering along in his efforts to keep on his feet. + +It was rough treatment, but Tom's course, all through, had been of the only +sort that could break down the threatened riot. + +"Now, see if that Italian can be found who fired the shot in my face," Tom +called. "I'll know him if I lay eyes on him." + +There was a prompt search, but the Italian could not be found. + +"If he has left camp, and keeps away, perhaps he'll be safe," Tom +announced. "But, if I run across him again I'll seize him, hold him for +the officers of the law, and see to it that he's sent to prison for +attempted murder." + +"Here are two men we want!" called Hazelton. + +Tom ran to his chum, who was holding an American by the arm. Mr. Prenter +had hold of another. + +"Two more of Evarts's bootleggers, eh?" muttered Reade. "Let me see." + +On one of the men he found a bottle of liquor. On the other no liquor was +discovered. + +"Did Evarts pay you fellows a salary, or commission?" Tom demanded. + +"Commiss---" began one of the bootleggers, then stopped himself with a +vocal jerk. "Evarts? I don't even know who he is." + +"Yes, you do," chuckled Tom Reade. "You were on the point, too, of telling +us that he paid you a commission on your sales, instead of a weekly wage. +Now, my men, I've looked you well over and shall know you again. If I find +you in camp, hereafter, you'll be dealt with in a way that you don't like. +Savvy? Comprenay? Understand? Now---git!" + +"Now, men, get back to your camp," shouted Tom. "To-morrow I'll try to +find time for a good and sociable talk with all of you. Try to enjoy your +few leisure hours all you can, but remember that the men who can't get +along without liquor and gambling are the kind of men we don't want here. +Any man who is dissatisfied can get his pay from Mr. Renshaw tonight or +to-morrow morning. For those who stood by us I have every feeling of +respect and gratitude. Those who thought to fight us---or some of +them---will have better sense by tomorrow. We don't want to impose on +any man here, but there are some things that we shall have to stop doing. +Good night, men!" + +Engineers, superintendent and foremen now left the men, going towards their +barracks. + +"I've a little job for you, Peters, if you don't mind going back into the +camp," suggested Tom. + +"It's not to go back and fight, single-handed, is it?" Mr. Peters asked, +with a smile. + +"Nothing like it," Tom laughed. "Peters, we have plenty of really good men +among our laborers, haven't we?" + +"Scores and scores of 'em, sir---among all three kinds of the men, negroes, +Italians and Portuguese." + +"I wish you would go back, then, and pick out two of each race---six men +in all. They must be honest, staunch and able to hold their tongues." + +"Do you want them for fighting, sir?" asked Peters. + +"Not a bit of a fight in it. I want them to use their eyes and report +to me." + +"Going to employ spotters on the camp?" asked Mr. Prenter, quickly. + +"Not a single spot!" Tom declared with emphasis. "I haven't any use for +information turned in by spotters." + +"I'm glad to hear you say that, Reade," nodded the treasurer. + +"What I want the men for, Peters, is something honest and manly, and with +no fighting in it," Tom continued. "I want information, and I'll pay the +man well who can bring it to me. Now, go and get your six men. Bring them +up to the house within half an hour." + +Nodding, Peters turned and strode back. + +When the others gained the house where the engineers and superintendent +lived the foremen took leave of their chiefs. + +As Tom, Harry and Mr. Prenter went up the steps to the porch the front door +opened to let out Mr. Bascomb. + +"Is that revolting row all over?" demanded the president of the Melliston +Company. + +"What row?" asked Mr. Prenter, innocently. + +"That riot back in camp," shivered Mr. Bascomb. "I simply abhor all +fighting." + +"So I noticed," commented Mr. Prenter, dryly. "Yes; I believe the trouble +is over, unless our young chief engineer intends to stir up something new +before bedtime. Do you, Reade?" + +"I haven't anything in mind," Tom answered with a smile. "Gentlemen, I am +afraid you may think I do things with a high hand. But I have been at this +engineering business just long enough to know that I must banish all +serious vices from a camp of laborers if I hope to get the best results in +work out of the men. So I must tackle some problems rather stiffly, and +use my fists when I'm driven to a corner." + +"I am not thoroughly satisfied of the wisdom of your course," said Mr. +Bascomb slowly. + +"Sorry to disagree with you, Bascomb," broke in the treasurer, "but I've +had some experience in handling what is called wild labor, and I believe +that Reade goes at it in just the right way. I don't believe there are +really fifty really wild or troublesome men in that camp. The few bad ones +usually start trouble going, and then the good ones are driven into it. +Let Reade stop the vices over yonder, in the way that he wants to, and the +worst of the crowd will call for their time and leave camp. We shall then +have a thoroughly good lot of men left, who'll do more and better work." + +"That is," almost whined President Bascomb, "if Reade, in doing what he +wants, doesn't stir up so much enmity that we have the rest of our wall +blown out into the gulf." + +"Mr. Bascomb," put in Tom, "while I must have control of the men and their +camp I don't wish to do anything to cast reflection on yourself as the head +of the company. May I therefore ask, sir, if there is any especial reason +why Evarts should be allowed in this camp?" + +President Bascomb fidgeted in the porch chair on which he was sitting. + +"I---I don't know of any reason, Mr. Reade, why Evarts should be allowed +in camp if his presence prevents you from keeping order as you wish." + +"Then you approve, sir, of my intention to keep him out?" + +"I---I won't question your right to handle the matter as you wish, Mr. +Reade," was the president's evasive reply. + +"Thank you, sir." + +Peters was soon back with the six men---two each of the negroes, Italians +and Portuguese. All of them understood English. + +Harry described the negro who had attacked him on the retaining wall, after +which Tom asked: + +"Have any of you men ever seen that negro? Have you any idea who he is, +and where he can be found?" + +None of the six admitted any knowledge of the mysterious black man. + +"Then I want you to keep his description in mind," continued Tom. "Keep +your eyes open, at all times, for any chance glimpse of him. The man who +brings me information leading to the capture of that big negro will +receive a reward of one hundred dollars in gold." "Keep your eyes open, +won't you? You may find him prowling around the wall at any time. He +may walk out on the wall, or he may be found hiding near in a boat. Watch +for him." + +All promised eagerly that they would do all in their power to earn the +hundred dollars. + +"That's what I call good business!" cried Mr. Prenter approvingly, as +soon as the foreman and the men had gone. + +"Does the hundred dollars come out of the company treasury, Reade, or from +your own pocket?" inquired President Bascomb. + +"Really I hadn't thought of the matter," answered Tom. + +"The company can afford to pay its own bills," broke in Mr. Prenter, rather +gruffly. + +"It's about time to turn in, isn't it?" asked Mr. Bascomb, striking a match +and glancing at his watch. + +"I'm going to stay up a little longer, and talk with Reade about the dread +mystery of our million dollar breakwater, if he'll let me," hinted Mr. +Prenter. + +Mr. Bascomb rose as though to go into the house. + +"While we're talking about the matter, sir," suggested Tom, "wouldn't it +be a good idea for us to stroll down to the beach and look out along the +wall to see how Foreman Corbett and his gang are guarding the breakwater +to-night?" + +"Fine idea," nodded the treasurer of the company. + +"Then, if you're all going away, and intend to leave the house alone, I +think I may as well go with you," grunted Mr. Bascomb. "I don't exactly +like the idea of staying here alone in such troublesome times." + +Harry walked beside Mr. Bascomb, while Tom led the way with the treasurer. +Mr. Renshaw brought up the rear. + +As the party came in sight of the beach and glanced out seaward, they saw +many a little, dancing light out on the retaining wall. Each light showed +where a workman patrolled under the orders of Foreman Corbett. The latter +was aboard the motor boat, "Morton," which ran up and down near the wall, +throwing the searchlight over the scene. + +"Reade," remarked Mr. Prenter, "I don't see that the enemy have any chance +to-night to run in and work harm to our property." + +Hardly had the treasurer spoken when Tom, looking out seaward, saw a +sudden, bright flash of light upward. There was a brief pause---then the +sullen boom of an explosion reached their ears. + +"Mystery of all mysteries!" choked Tom Reade. "There goes another section +of the wall---blown up under our very eyes!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A MESSAGE FROM A COWARD + + +"Now Reade," began President Bascomb, in a shaking voice, "what can you +say---" + +Tom didn't wait to inform him. The young chief engineer was darting out on +the wall as fast as he could go. + +Already the "Morton" had turned, and was chugging back to the scene of this +latest outrage, the searchlight flashing back and forth, in the vain effort +to detect any small craft stealing away from the vicinity. + +"I---I can't race on a narrow runway like that," faltered Mr. Bascomb, +halting at the beginning of the narrow wall. "I---I'll wait here, Mr. +Renshaw, will you keep me company?" + +"If you so direct, sir," replied the superintendent. "For that matter, +what Reade and Hazelton can't find out, out yonder, will probably never be +discovered." + +"Do you share Mr. Prenter's infatuation for those two young men?" asked +the president of the Melliston Company. + +"I can't say about that, sir," Renshaw replied, with a puzzled air. "But +this much I know---I never worked with two more capable men of any age. +They always know what to do, and they never lose their heads." + +Mr. Bascomb compressed his lips tightly. + +In the meantime Tom, Harry and Treasurer Prenter covered nearly a quarter +of a mile along the retaining wall when the motor boat, putting about, +picked them up with the searchlight. + +Toot! toot! sounded the boat's pneumatic whistle. + +"Foreman Corbett is signaling to us to wait and he'll put in for us," said +Tom, coming to a halt. Soon the motor craft chugged in alongside, coming +close to the wall. Tom, Harry and Mr. Prenter jumped, landing safely +aboard. + +"How did the enemy come to catch you napping, Corbett?" Tom inquired +good-humoredly. + +"They didn't catch me napping, sir," protested Foreman Corbett. "It is the +strangest thing, sir---that explosion. Why, I had had my light turned on +that very part of the wall at least a dozen times in the last half-hour +before the blow-out came. Our light didn't pick up a soul around there at +any time. What do you suppose I did, Mr. Reade, as soon as the explosion +sounded?" + +"I saw you turn about and use your search light a lot," Reade answered. + +"Did you notice, sir, that I turned the light right up at the sky, +first-off?" + +"I believe I did notice that," Tom assented. + +"It seemed to me, sir, that nothing but an airship could plant a charge of +high explosive on the wall in that fashion." + +"I don't believe the airship theory will explain it either," said Tom, +shaking his head. + +"Then what theory can explain it?" asked Mr. Prenter, anxiously. + +"I'd pay a reward out of my own pocket for the right answer," Reade +replied. + +"Then you haven't a theory?" asked the treasurer. + +"Not even an imitation of a theory," Tom laughed, shortly. + +All this time the motor boat was gliding out toward the scene of the wreck. + +"Now, you can see the damage that has been done," suggested Mr. Corbett, +turning the light fully on the scene of the latest blow-out. "You see, a +long strip of the wall has been cleaned out. Not a trace of the damaged +part shows above water." + +"It wasn't as big an explosion as the other two, though," Reade declared. +"Really, it looks as though the folks behind this found themselves running +low on explosives." + +"There must be a trace or a clue left," urged Mr. Prenter. + +"High explosives don't leave many traces of anything with which they come +in contact," muttered Harry. "If we _do_ find any traces, I guess it will +have to be in broad daylight." + +"And I guess that's right," agreed Tom. "Mr. Corbett, did none of your men +patrolling on the wall report any signs of strangers?" + +"No such report was made, sir." + +"At all events, we can be thankful that the explosion didn't blow one or +two of our men into the other world," Tom went on. + +"Even that is bound to happen if there are many more of these explosions," +muttered Corbett, grimly. + +"Which is another reason," remarked Tom Reade, "why we're going to solve +the mystery of said explosions at the earliest minute that we can." + +"One thing is certain," observed Mr. Prenter, with the nearest approach to +gloom that he had yet shown. "If you don't soon penetrate this grim +mystery, and find a way to stop these outrages, then the wall will be +destroyed more rapidly than you can build it." + +"The outrages may cease after a while," suggested Harry. + +"No," answered Reade. "As long as the unknown enemy feels that he can +harass us without much risk of being caught red-handed, just so long will +he go on with his outrages---unless we give in." + +"Give in?" asked Mr. Prenter, with a rising inflection in his voice. + +"Unless we give in," supplied Tom promptly, "by allowing gambling and +rum-selling to go on openly in our camp of workmen." + +"Have you any notion of giving in to that extent?" asked Mr. Prenter. + +"Not an idea!" retorted Tom Reade promptly. "It wouldn't be my way to +surrender to the Devil. I'll fight to the last ditch---unless your +company really prefers to have Hazelton and myself cancel our contract and +get out of this work. Do you?" + +"_I_ don't want you to quit," replied Mr. Prenter positively. "I admire +fighting grit, and I want to see you keep hammering away at the work until +you win and the job is finished. The board of directors will stand with me +on that, if I can sway them. As for Mr. Bascomb, you mustn't take him too +seriously. He's a first rate fellow in a lot of ways, but there's no fight +in him, and he's a bit close-fisted, too. As for me, Reade, and as far as +I can speak for my fellow directors, go ahead, just the way you've started. +If you can find any way to hammer camp vice harder than you've been +hammering it, then go ahead and do some harder work with your little +hammer." + +"I'll do it," promised Tom. "Now, Mr. Prenter, I don't believe anything +more will happen here to-night---perhaps not for two or three nights. So +I think the wisest thing for you to do will be to get back to the house and +get some sleep. The same for you, Harry!" + +"What are you going to do?" Hazelton wanted to know. + +"I?" repeated Reade. "For to-night I'm going to remain up, and be out here +around this threatened wall." + +"Then that ought to be good enough for me, also," Harry suggested. + +"Not much, chum. I'm going to take the night trick for the present, and +put on you the burden of all the day work. So you'll need your sleep." + +"I can swing the day work easily enough," laughed Hazelton. "It will be +all the more easy as the next few days will be taken up simply with +repairing the breaks that have been made." + +"Swing the boat in toward land, Mr. Corbett," Tom directed the foreman. + +At the little landing Hazelton and Mr. Prenter joined the waiting president +and superintendent. + +"Did you really find out anything?" called Mr. Bascomb eagerly. + +"It's as big a mystery as ever." + +"There's just one thing we'll have to do," sighed Mr. Bascomb, "and that +will be to stop running the camp on a basis of old Puritan laws." + +"You talk Reade into it, if you can," chuckled Treasurer Prenter. "You +won't find him easy to convince, either." + +Tom didn't wait to discuss the matter. Instead, he signaled to Foreman +Corbett to run the craft out again. + +"If you want to, Corbett," suggested Tom, with a laugh, as the boat moved +over the salt waters again, "you might go ashore and go to bed. You can +easily claim that you engaged with us as a foreman, and that being captain +of a motor boat amounts to breach of contract." + +"I'm not fussing," smiled the foreman. "As long as I can sleep daytimes +running this motor boat is easier than working." + +"It probably will be," nodded Reade, "unless the enemy go in for a new +line of tactics." + +"Such as what, sir?" asked Corbett. + +"If this boat hampers them too much they may decide to send it to the +bottom with a torpedo." + +"Let 'em try, then," grunted the foreman, giving the steering wheel a turn. + +Though Reade remained up until broad daylight no further sign of the +unknown enemies was seen. Through the night, had it not been for the +patrols walking up and down the line of wall with lanterns, it would have +been hard to realize that the big breakwater was haunted by any such +desperately practical group of "ghosts." + +"I guess we've heard the last of the rascals," suggested Harry Hazelton one +night at supper. Messrs. Bascomb and Prenter had returned to Mobile, so +that the young engineers and their superintendent were the only men at +table. + +"My guess is about the same," drawled Mr. Renshaw. + +"Yes?" queried Reade. "Guess again!" + +"Oh, I believe they've quit," argued Mr. Renshaw. "For one thing, the +scoundrels probably have discovered that detectives from Mobile are down +here trying to run 'em to earth. That has scared the rascals away." + +"What are the detectives doing, anyway?" asked Harry. + +"Blessed if I know," Tom yawned. "I believe there are three of them here +or over in Blixton, but I wouldn't know one of them, if I fell over him. +The detectives came, secured their orders from Mr. Prenter, and went to +work---or pretended to go to work. I'm glad that I'm not responsible for +the detectives." + +Nicolas entered, an envelope in his hand. + +"Par-rdon, Senor Reade," begged the Mexican. "I would not interrupt, but +on the porch I found thees letter. It is address to you." + +Tom took the envelope and scanned it, saying: + +"The address is printed---probably because the writer didn't want to run +the risk of having his writing identified. Probably the letter, also, is +printed. Pardon me, gentlemen, while I open this communication . . . Yes; +the letter is printed, and unsigned---a further sign of cowardice on the +part of the writer. And now let me see what it says." + +Tom spent a few moments in going through the communication. A white line +formed around his mouth as he read. Then he passed the letter to Harry, +who read it aloud, as follows: + +_"You have had a week of peace. Is peace better than war? You may have +all the peace you wish, and go on working and prospering if you will let +others do the same. Stop interfering with the right of your men to amuse +themselves and all will be well. Try any of your former tricks in the +camp, and then you will have good cause to 'Beware!'"_ + +"Is that a declaration of war?" asked Harry, looking up. + +"I think so," nodded Tom. + +"Then how are you going to meet it?" + +"There's only one way," Tom returned. "A declaration of war must be met +with a fight. Unless I'm very greatly in error the gamblers and +bootleggers will try to start up matters again to-night in camp." + +"And you'll throw them down harder than before?" queried Mr. Renshaw, +gazing keenly at the young chief. + +"If it be possible," Tom declared. "Nicolas, be kind enough to go over +and ask the foremen to report here at 8:20 promptly. At 8:30 we will +enter camp and see what is going on." + +"I miss my guess, then," chuckled Mr. Renshaw, quietly, "if our arrival +isn't followed by war in earnest." + +"War is never so bad," retorted Tom Reade, his jaws setting, "as a +disgraceful peace!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AN ENGINEER'S FIGHTING BLOOD + + +Just at half-past eight that evening Tom, Harry, the superintendent and the +foremen entered camp. + +They went, first, to a shack which they knew to be occupied by orderly, +respectable blacks. + +"Come, men," said Tom, halting in the doorway. "I've an idea we may need +you." + +Six negroes rose and came forward. + +"There are gambling and bootlegging going on in this camp to-night, aren't +there?" Reade inquired. + +"Ah doan' rightly know, boss," replied one of the negroes cautiously. + +"But you suspect it, don't you?" Tom pressed. + +"Yes; Ah done 'spec so, boss," grinned the negro. + +"And I do, too," rejoined Tom. "Come along. We may need a little help." + +With this reinforcement---the negroes were wanted for work rather than for +fighting---Tom now stepped off briskly through the camp. + +Nor did he have to guess in which way to go through the darkened streets +of this little village of toilers. Shouts of laughter and the click of +ivory dice and celluloid chips signaled the direction. + +The largest shack in the village was closed tightly as to door and window, +though light came out through the chinks. Tom stepped over there boldly, +not turning to see whether his following were close behind him. + +Stepping up to the closed door the young chief engineer placed his shoulder +against it. He gave a sturdy push, and the barrier flew open. + +There were about fifty of his men crowded into one large room. A half +dozen gambling games were in full blast. At two tables stood bootleggers, +each with a bottle of liquor and glasses. + +Tom stalked boldly in, still without turning to look at his own following. +Reade's face bore such a mild look that the leader of the visiting +gamblers was wholly deceived as he glanced up. + +"The chief!" called one workman, in dismay, and a dozen men made a break +for the door. But Harry and the others prevented their getting out. + +"Oh, it's all right," cheerily announced the leader of the gamblers. "Mr. +Reade has just come here to look on and make sure that everything is being +conducted above board and on the square. Isn't that so, Reade?" + +"Yes," Tom assented, pausing near the central table at which gambling was +going on. + +At that assurance the panic-stricken gamblers breathed more easily. +Several men who had jumped up from their seats went back to their chairs. + +"Reade is a good friend of ours," called the leader of the gamblers, +mockingly. "He isn't going to interfere with any amusements that are +properly carried on---eh, Reade?" + +The fellow stared boldly into Tom's eyes, a look of insolent mockery on +his features. + +"Certainly I'm not going to interfere with any proper amusements in this +camp," Tom nodded, easily. + +"What did I tell you, boys?" laughed the leader of the gamblers. "Go on +with your play, boys!" + +"But gambling isn't a proper amusement for poor men, who have to toil and +sweat for every five-cent piece they get," Tom Reade continued calmly. +"Neither is the trade of bootlegging a decent one, or one that provides +decent amusement. I have already warned you that gambling and liquor +selling are things of the past in this camp." + +There was another stir in the room. The leader of the gamblers rose, +fixing his gaze on Tom's eyes and trying to stare the young engineer out +of countenance. + +"What do you mean, Reade?" he demanded. + +"Isn't my meaning clear enough?" Tom insisted, with a chilly smile. + +"Man, haven't you come to your senses yet?" snarled the gambler. + +"Do you mean to ask whether I was scared by the cowardly, unsigned letter +that I received this evening?" Tom fired back at the fellow, with another +taunting smile. + +"I don't know anything about any letter," muttered the gambler sullenly, +"but I heard that you had come to your senses." + +"Whether I have or not," retorted Tom, "you are pretty sure to come to your +proper senses to-night. Men---I mean workmen, not gamblers or +bootleggers---you are at liberty to pass out of this building." + +"Don't you go," shouted the gambler, as some two dozen men started toward +the doorway where Harry and the rest were on guard. + +Some of them halted. + +"I must have made a mistake in calling some of you 'men,' since you take +orders from such disreputable characters as these gamblers and +bootleggers," Tom taunted them mildly. "Now, all I will say is that those +of you who wish to do so may pass outside. The rest may remain here, +though they'll be sorry, afterwards, that they stayed. All who want to +get outside must do so at once." + +"Don't you do anything of the sort," shouted the gamblers' leader. "Stay +here like men and assert your rights! Come on! I'll lead you, and show +you how to throw these meddlers out." + +"You'll do it---just like this, eh?" demanded Tom Reade. + +He made a leap for the leader of the gamblers, catching the fellow by the +throat and waist. Lifting him, Tom hurled the fellow a dozen feet. The +gambler fell on one side, but was up in a moment, his right hand traveling +toward a hip pocket. + +"Don't draw," mocked Tom, with another smile. "Probably you haven't a +pistol there. If you have, you can never make me believe that you have +sand enough to draw and shoot before as many witnesses as I have on hand." + +"I've a good mind to drill you with lead!" scowled the gambler, still +resting his hand behind him. + +"But you're a wise man," mocked Reade, "and wise men often change their +minds." + +However, the very move of the gambler to draw a pistol had had one effect +that Tom ardently desired. Most of the workmen present were now in +frantic haste to get out before any shooting began. The two bootleggers +also sought to make their escape. + +"Get back there! You fellows can't get out!" Harry shouted, himself +seizing and hurling the bootleggers back into the room. They rose, glaring +sullenly at Hazelton. But they didn't know how many more men he might have +behind him out there in the dark. + +Tom Reade now had the six gamblers and the two bootleggers in the room +with him. + +"You're a nice crew, aren't you?" he jeered, gazing at them scornfully. + +"We're making our living," retorted the leader of the gamblers, with what +he meant to be a fine tone of scorn. + +"Making your living off of human beings! You're some of the parasites +that infest honest workingmen. I've drummed you out of this camp before, +and you have the cheek to come back. Now, I'll try to teach you another +lesson. Harry, send in our workmen, will you?" + +Hazelton stepped aside, to let in the half dozen honest negroes they had +brought along with them. These men entered, then stood looking at their +young chief. + +"Get hold of those cards, chips and dice!" ordered Tom. + +"Here, what are you trying to do?" demanded the leader of the gamblers. + +"You have the advantage of me," responded Tom. "I don't know your name." + +"Hawkins is my name," replied the chief of the gamblers. + +"Hawkins is a fine name," admitted Tom. "It will do as well as any other. +I won't annoy you, Hawkins, by asking you what your name used to be in +prouder and happier days." + +"What are these men doing with our outfit?" insisted Hawkins, as the +negroes began industriously to clear the surfaces of the tables. + +"You can see what they're doing," Tom rejoined. + +"You blacks get out and leave our property alone," warned Hawkins, darting +among them. + +The negroes drew back, in some alarm, for the gambler looked dangerous with +one hand at his hip pocket. + +"Go get on with your work, men," counseled Tom. "I'm here to back you up." + +"As for you, sir---" snarled Hawkins, facing Tom. + +"Don't look at me like that," laughed Reade softly. "Save that face to +frighten children with." + +The negroes had busied themselves until they had gathered up all the +implements of gambling and had stuffed them into their pockets. + +Now Tom went up to the bootleggers. Both men he boldly searched, bringing +forth from their pockets bottles of liquor. These he threw down hard on +the floor of the cabin, smashing them. + +"I don't know why we allow you to do all this, Reade," fumed Hawkins, whose +face was white with rage. + +"It's because you're afraid, and know that you can't help yourselves," Tom +smiled. + +"I'll show you who's afraid!" yelled Hawkins, again throwing his right +hand back to his hip pocket. + +This time Reade saw the unmistakable butt of a revolver. Without an +instant's hesitation. Reade leaped at the fellow. In a moment Tom had +the revolver, springing backwards. + +"Well---shoot!" jeered Hawkins. "You don't dare to." + +"You're right," assented Tom coolly. "I don't dare to. Assassination +belongs to the lowest orders of human beings. An honest man seldom has +any need of concealed deadly weapons." + +Tom stepped still farther back, breaking the revolver and dropping the +cartridges into one hand. Hawkins made a move as though to spring upon +him, but Harry leaped into the room, confronting the gambler. + +Thus shielded, Tom drew a combination tool-knife from one of his pockets, +then coolly drew out the screw that held the trigger in place. + +Dropping the trigger into his own pocket, Tom tossed the weapon back. + +"Catch it, Hawkins," he called. "You may want this to frighten some +children with over in Blixton. Now, Mr. Renshaw, I believe you know +what you're to do." + +"Yes, sir," nodded the superintendent, from the doorway, and vanished. + +"We'll take our leave, now," sneered Hawkins, "unless you have some further +humiliation in store for us." + +"Just one," Tom declared, "so you can't go just yet." + +"Oh, all right," Hawkins laughed fiercely. "You'll have to pay for this +unlawful detention." + +"You can tell the officers all about that," Tom suggested tantalizingly. +"Mr. Renshaw has just gone to telephone for them." + +"The officers? Police?" snarled Hawkins. + +"Yes. Did you imagine that you could keep on defying all the laws? You've +just threatened me with a taste of the law. You may try a taste yourself, +Professor Hawkins!" + +"Let us out of this place!" insisted Hawkins angrily. "Come on, friends!" + +He rallied his own force of seven men and started toward the door. + +"Of course you can try to get away," Reade warned the fellow. "But the +effort will cost you all broken heads, to say the least. I have placed +you all under arrest for breaking the laws of Alabama, and, before we'll +let you go, we'll break a few bones for each of you." + +Outside the workmen of the camp were thronging by this time. Doubtless, +had they dared, two or three score of these men would have fought in +behalf of the gamblers and bootleggers, but far more than that number +would have rallied under Tom Reade's banner, for it is human nature to +flock to the banner of the leader who is resolute and unafraid. Besides, +there were the foremen, all of them good, hard hitting men. + +"Oh, well," sneered Hawkins, "let it go at that, Reade. We'll have our +day in court tomorrow, and then. I guess we'll find our innings." + +"Yes," chuckled Tom, "and when you get your innings you'll be wild to swap +them for outings---for the innings will be in jail." + +"Don't push my temper too far," cautioned Hawkins with a scowl. + +"Let it go as far as you like, always being ready to take the +consequences," Tom smiled genially. + +There followed a period of tense waiting. After nearly a half an hour of +this a 'bus arrived, with four police officers from Blixton in it. Tom +Reade preferred his charges against the gamblers and bootleggers. The +officers had no choice but to take them, so the late troublemakers, now +amid jeers and hoots from many of the workmen, were led outside and into +the 'bus. + +"You'll hear from this!" hissed Hawkins, in the young chief engineer's ear. + +"I believe you," nodded Tom thoughtfully. + +After the police and their prisoners had gone Tom led his own party back +to the house. + +"You'd better get to bed now, Harry," Reade advised his chum. "There can +be no telling how soon I'll need to call you up, and you ought to have +some sleep first." + +"You look for trouble to break to-night?" Harry asked. + +"Between now and daylight," said Tom simply. + +"Whee! I'd like to stay up with you." + +"You might find more fun that way, Harry, but the work to-morrow would +suffer, and work is more important than mere fun," Tom answered. + +Nor was Tom to be disappointed in his expectation that the worst trouble +yet experienced would break loose that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +WISHING IT ON MR. SAMBO + + +"Oho!" breathed young Reade, as he crouched low behind the fringe of +bushes, peering toward the beach. + +It was now somewhat past midnight. For three hours Tom had been scouting +stealthily along this shore section, well to the west of the breakwater. + +For, in pondering over the explosions, Tom had come to the conclusion that +the blow-outs on the retaining wall, however accomplished, were controlled +from a point to the westward of the sea wall. + +This conclusion had been rather a simple matter to a trained engineer. +Tom had witnessed the flash of one explosion, and that, as he remembered, +had sprung up at the west side of the wall. Moreover, the appearance and +condition of the wall, at the point of each explosion, had shown that the +attack in each case must have been made at the west side of the wall. + +And now, after nearly three hours of work, Tom Reade had come upon a real +clue. + +"Another blow-out is arranged for to-night, just as I had expected," Reade +muttered, with an angry thrill, as he glanced at a figure down on the +beach. "Moreover, my guess that the huge negro is the fellow who touches +off the blow-outs has proved to be the correct one." + +Down on the beach a big, black man was moving about stealthily. Though the +spot was a lonely one, this scoundrel plainly intended to take no +unnecessary risks of detection. + +Just at the present moment the negro was placing in the water a +curious-looking little raft that he had brought on one shoulder from its +place of concealment. It was something like a flat-bottomed scow, the +sides being just high enough to prevent whatever cargo it carried, from +rolling off into the water. + +The raft placed and secured to the shore, the negro crouched in his hiding +place in a jungle of bushes. He soon reappeared, carrying four metal +tubes. + +"The explosive is in the tubes," guessed Tom easily. "And at one end of +each tube is a sharp metal point that permits of being driven into the +crevices in the wall. Four, or more, of these tubes are thrust into the +wall, I suppose, and connected in series, so that they can be fired by the +same electric spark. These tubes and the wires are water-proofed. The +negro is only the dastardly workman in this case. It was never he who +invented the trick. But he must be an excellent workman, who ought to be +employed in much more honest effort. I wonder if the fellow is going to +use more than four tubes?" + +All of these thoughts ran through the mind of Tom as he crouched, peering +eagerly at the negro. + +By this time the negro was taking to the water, towing his miniature scow +and its explosive cargo as he swam. + +"He must be a good swimmer, and also a good diver," concluded Tom. "With +my men patrolling the sea wall he must have to dive, some distance away, +swim under water, and remain there until he has secured one of the tubes +in place. Then he has to get back, out of range of the lanterns' rays, and +get his breath before he goes back to the next job. But maybe I can +interfere with his work to-night." + +Though he rose and moved away, Reade, despite the darkness of the night, +was careful to keep himself concealed behind the bushes, so that he could +not be observed from beach or water. Shortly the young engineer was over +at the point in the jungle from which he had seen the negro emerge with +scow and explosives. + +"The fellow must use a magneto, attached to wires running under the water," +concluded Tom. "At that rate, the first real job is to find the magneto. +My, but Mr. Sambo Ebony may be wondering, to-night, why his blow-out +doesn't work as easily as usual!" + +Simple as the search ought to have been, Tom Reade was soon on the point +of despair. + +"If it isn't a magneto, or if I can't find it in time," Tom muttered +uneasily, "the mystery may remain nearly as great as ever, and the +explosion may be pulled off to-night, after all." + +Twenty minutes passed before Reade, with all his senses alert, stumbled +on the concealed magneto. It had been so well hidden, under a mass of +rocks, that it would not have been astonishing had Tom missed it +altogether. + +Attached to the magneto was the wire that must connect, in some way, with +the series of tubes that would soon be fastened in the retaining wall out +yonder. Yet this wire ran into the ground, and then vanished. + +"Now, I've simply got to hustle!" sighed Tom Reade nervously. "If I don't +succeed in raising the wire, and in a mighty short space of time, I may be +to-night's fool yet. I'd really like to wish that on the black man, too!" + +By using his eyes and his reasoning powers Reade, after twenty minutes more +of search, with some sly digging, unearthed a section of the wire some +dozen feet from the magneto. + +"Now, it must be really the swiftest sort of work," murmured the young +engineer, after a glance seaward. He seated himself with his face turned +toward the Gulf, gathered the exposed section of wire up into his lap, then +drew a pair of wire nippers from his pocket. + +Snip! Tom now had two ends of wire in his hands. That would have been +enough, had Reade chosen to bury the ends and conceal all evidence of his +work. However, he believed that a more workmanlike way could be found. + +From the same pocket Tom drew out a three inch piece of pure rubber cable, +wrapped in water-proof tape. This he fastened to the severed ends of the +wire, binding the whole as neatly as a lineman could have done. + +"Rubber is believed to be a pretty good insulator," chuckled Reade, as he +finished. "I don't believe the spark is made that can jump three inches +of rubber. Certainly magneto-power can't do it. Now, let me see what sort +of a trail-concealer I am." + +Tom laid the wire back in the ground, covering it carefully with his hands. + +"I wish I dared strike a match, so that I could judge better just how my +work looks," he sighed. "However, I don't believe Mr. Sambo Ebony will +think it discreet to strike any matches either, so he won't find the place +where I've been fooling with his work. + +"Now, I'll get back out of sight, where I belong," muttered Tom, rising +cautiously. "I hope, though, I can find a place where I can see the look +on that darkey's face when he tries his magneto and waits for the bing! +from out yonder. Oh, Sambo, you simply can't have any idea of how I've +been wishing it on you tonight!" + +As the bushes grew thickly hereabouts, and there were many hollows in the +surface of the earth, Reade had little trouble in finding what he believed +to be a satisfactory hiding place. It enabled him to hide his head within +fifteen feet of the handle of the magneto. + +A soft, southerly wind blew in from the Gulf. As long as he could Reade +fought drowsiness. Again and again he opened his eyes with a start. + +"I mustn't do this," Tom told himself angrily. "No gentleman will go to +sleep at the switch---when it's his train that is coming!" + +Yet still he found himself nodding. Had he deemed it safe Tom would have +sprung up and walked about briskly. But this, he knew, was to invite +being discovered by the returning negro. + +So, at last, despite himself, Tom fell asleep. + +How much time had passed he never knew. At last, however, he awoke with a +start. Reproachfully he rubbed his eyes. + +"Not a bit too soon!" he muttered, as his ears caught sound of an +approaching step, and his eyes showed him the hulking form of the massive +foe. "Here comes my black man!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE BLACK MAN'S TURN + + +Closer to the earth Tom tried to burrow. As to a plan, Tom Reade had none +now, save to watch, and, if possible, to learn something that he did not +already know. + +Soft-footed, despite his great bulk, the negro approached with an air of +little concern. Plainly, the wretch did not much fear discovery---still +less interference. + +Humming an old plantation melody the negro reached his concealed magneto, +then stood up for a brief moment, staring seaward in the direction from +which he had just come. His garments dripped water; his whole appearance +was bedraggled, yet there was something utterly shaggy, majestic, in this +huge specimen of the human race. + +"Ah done reckon dem gemmen gwine lose some mo' of deir wall to-night," +chuckled the negro softly. + +"Go as far as you like, Mr. Sambo Ebony!" grinned Tom Reade, under his +breath. "I've wished something else on you this time." + +Carelessly the negro bent over his magneto, seized the handle and gave a +push. + +Then he straightened up, listening. Only the soft sighing of the southern +wind came to his ears. + +"Yo' shuah done gotta use a mo' greasy elbow dan dat, chile," chuckled this +imp of Satan aloud, though in a soft voice that seemed out of all +proportion to his bulk. + +Then he gave a half dozen indolent though steady strokes to the handle of +the magneto. + +"Whah am dat 'splosion?" he asked himself in wonderment. "Am mah eardrum +done gone busted? Moke, yo' am plumb lazy this night!" + +This time the huge negro pumped at the handle of the magneto until he was +all but out of breath. Several dozen shoves he had administered before +he halted, let go of the magneto and raised himself to his full, majestic +height. + +"Some black witch hab done gwine wish a big hoodoo on me!" grunted the +negro suspiciously. "Dis am do fust time dat de magernetto gwine back +on me like dis!" + +In his bewilderment the one whom Tom had named Sambo glared around him. +His eyes gleamed with a phosphorescence like that which one sees on the +water on a lowering night. What Reade did not know was that this black +man possessed eyes that were a little keener in the dark than a bat's. + +With a sudden "Woof!" Sambo went up in the air, moved sideways, and came +down on the startled Tom Reade with the force of a pile driver. + +"Wha' yo' doing heah?" demanded the negro, gripping Reade by the coat +collar and dragging that hapless engineer to his feet. + +Tom did not answer. To save his life he couldn't have answered just then, +his breath utterly gone. + +"Wha' yo' want heah, anyway?" insisted Sambo, giving the youth a vicious +shake. + +There was blood before the negro's eyes, or he would sooner have +recognized his victim. But at last he did see. + +"So, I'se gwine cotch Mistah Reade himself!" snorted Sambo. "An' Ah +reckon I'se gwine foun' de differculty wid my magernetto at de same +time! Huh?" + +Again he shook Tom, with an ease and yet a force that further drove the +breath from the young engineer's body. + +"Why doan' yo' talk!" glared the negro, holding Tom out at arm's length +with one hand. + +Tom could only groan. Yet that method of communication carried its own +explanation to the big black. + +"Reckon yo' gwine talk w'en yo' get gale enough in yo' lungs," grinned the +negro. "In dat case Ah gwine lay yo' down on de groun' to fin' yo' breff." + +Sambo's idea of laying Tom down was to give him a violent twist that +brought the lad flat on the ground at his captor's feet. Then the negro +sat on his captive to make sure that the latter did not escape. + +"Take yo' time---ah got plenty," grimaced the black man. + +Slowly the beaten-out breath came back to Tom Reade. Sambo, watching, knew +finally that his quarry was at last able to talk. + +"Wha' yo' do to mah magernetto?" demanded Sambo. + +"Guess," breathed Tom. + +"Oh, take yo' time, boss. Ah got plenty ob dat accommerdation" + +"What magneto are you talking about?" Reade queried innocently. + +"Nebber heard ob it befo', eh, boss?" + +"I've heard of plenty of magnetos, of course," admitted Tom. "But what +have you to do with one?" + +For a brief instant Sambo was almost inclined to believe that Reade did +not fully know his secret. Finally it dawned on the brain of the big +black man that he was being hoaxed. + +"Ef yo' doan wanter tell, yo' doan hab to, ob co'se," proposed Sambo. "It +ain't mah way to be too persistency wid de w'ite quality gemmen. But Ah +done thought maybe yo' know somethin' dat yo's burnin' to tell." + +"Who are you, and what are you doing around here?" asked Tom. "I'm certain +you don't belong to my force of workmen---unless you just joined +yesterday. Are you working on the breakwater job?" + +"Yessah," promptly answered Sambo with momentary gravity. Then his mood +changed to a chuckle. + +"Dat am all right, Massa Reade," he allowed. "But yo' doan' fool dis +nigger as easy as yo' maybe think. Ah know what yo' watchin' me fo', +and Ah done know I'se been doin' jess w'at yo' think. So I guess we +doan' need no mo' conversationin', unless yo' willing to talk right out +and tell me w'at's w'at." + +"Sambo," said Reade solemnly, "I imagine I'm not very intelligent, after +all. I listened to you attentively, but, for the life of me, I couldn't +make out what you were talking about." + +"Kain't yo'?" the negro demanded, mockingly. "Den Ah done reckon Ah must +be a good deal of a scholar, ef Ah can talk so dat er w'ite quality gemmen +kain't undahstan' me." + +Mr. Sambo Ebony chuckled gleefully in appreciation of his own joke. + +"There's one thing I guess you can tell me, Sambo," Reade suggested +hopefully. + +"W'at am dat, massa?" + +"When are you going to change your seat and stop making me feel like a +very thin pancake?" + +"W'en Ah done get mah mind made up." + +"When you have your mind made up about---what?" + +"About w'at I'se gwine do wid yo', Massa Reade." + +"Well, what do you think you're going to do with me?" insisted Tom. "I'll +admit, Sambo, that I'm about losing my patience. Unless you get up off +of me soon, and move away to a respectful distance, I shall be obliged to +do something on my own account." + +"Go as far as yo' like, massa," returned the negro, unmoved. "I'se boun' +ter admit dat yo' done got me fo' curiosity. W'at yo' done think yo' +_can_ do?" + +Plainly the negro meant to go on having sport with him. Tom decided that +it would be of no use to try to deceive this great mountain of black +flesh. So Reade, who had been doing some brisk thinking during the last +few moments, gave a sudden heave---a trick that he retained from the old +football days. + +Much to Sambo's surprise he found himself going. Yet the black man was as +agile as he was big. He leaped to his feet, bounding one step sideways, +while Tom, who had been watching for this very chance, sprang to his own +feet. + +"Not so fas', massa!" mocked the big black, reaching out and taking a +strong clutch on. Tom's coat collar. + +Reade would have squirmed out of his coat and placed more distance between +them, but Mr. Ebony, with a stout twist, gathered the two ends of the coat +collar, holding the young engineer as though in the noose of a halter. + +Quick as a flash Reade struck out with his right fist for the black man's +belt-line. Had the blow landed even the huge Sambo would have gone down +to earth. But the negro parried with his own disengaged fist, then gave +a twist to the coat collar noose that made Reade turn black in the face +from choking. + +"Ah might as well tell yo'," Sambo observed dryly, "dat yo' ain't done +got no new fight tricks dat yo' can wish on me. Ah done seen all de +tricks of fightin' dat any man done know, an' Ah nebber yet seen no man +dat could put any kind oh a blow ober on me to hurt!" + +The negro spoke boastfully, yet there could be no doubt that he believed +all he said. + +Tom Reade next schemed to land a hard kick against the negro's shins. Ere +he had his foot well lifted, however, the watchful Sambo seemed to divine +the intent. He gave a quick twist at the coat collar that made Reade's +head swim. It was some time before the young engineer's head recovered +from that sudden confusion and blackness. + +"Am' yo' gwine beliebe dat yo' kain't wish no kind oh a trick ober on me?" +demanded the black man in an injured tone. "Ah nebber seen no odder w'ite +man dat had such a ha'd time beliebing w'at Ah done tole him!" + +"I've got to land this wicked brute, some way, or I may as well conclude +that the jig is danced through, as far as I am concerned," Reade thought +ruefully. + +Panting, quivering, in dread of being choked again, and much harder, Tom +tried to think fast in the effort to devise some new plan for worsting +this terrible opponent. + +"I've been fooling myself all along," Tom told himself, with a sinking +heart. "I've been up against several men who were too weak or too cowardly +to fight, and I've somehow gained the opinion that I could fight. But +this black fellow has taken all the conceit out of me. I was a fool ever +to think that I could fight! I'm nothing but a piece of jelly---or putty!" + +Of a sudden Reade tried to wrench himself free at the collar, at the same +time raising his right knee with a forceful jerk. He wanted to drive that +knee into the black man's wind. + +But Sambo seemed to guess the plan without trouble. He gave a twist that +choked Tom, once more, until all went black before him. Then the negro +slammed his victim down hard on the ground, well-nigh stunning the young +engineer. + +"Ah done see w'at Ah gotta do wid yo'," Sambo announced. "Ah gotta tie +yo' up, load yo' pockets wid rocks, and den take yo' out in de Gulf ah' +lose yo'! Dat's w'at Ah gotta do, an' Ah ain' gwine lose no time about +it either." + +Sambo was in earnest, too. He had mapped out that very course! + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A DAVID FOR A GOLIATH + + +From his pockets the big fellow brought out a coil of stout cord. Without +much trouble he slipped a noose over one of Tom's wrists. Then began an +active fight, the object of which, on the black man's part, was to make the +other wrist secure. + +But here Tom developed an amount of agility and a skill in fighting that +angered Sambo. + +"Doggone yo', ef yo' won't take it peaceable-like, den yo'll get it do +odder way." + +With that, Sambo delivered a blow that made young Reade see stars. His +head swam dizzily. Now, the black man secured the other wrist, making a +turn and a knot that would have done credit to an expert. + +But about that time something else happened. Whack! A blow from a club +landed across the negro's head. + +"Who doin' dat?" demanded the negro, blinking and half turning. + +"I did eet, you miser-r-r-rable black smoke, and I do eet again!" rang +the voice of Nicolas, as that valiant Mexican circled around the negro. + +"Yo' blow away, yaller baby!" jeered Sambo, whose head had been not at +all hurt by the blow. + +"I show you eel I run away!" bridled up Nicolas. + +Tom now began to recover enough to know that his faithful servant was on +the scene. + +"Scoot, Nicolas!" urged Tom, in a gasping Voice. "Run for all you're +worth. This fellow will eat you up. Run and bring help." + +"Senor, I can wheep him with one hand!" vaunted the little Mexican. + +"Run, I tell you, and get help. Be like a flash, man!" + +"As you say, Senor, but---" + +Nicolas turned, speeding away. + +His escape, however, would interfere, possibly, with the plans of Sambo. +The big black leaped up, racing after Nicolas. + +As the Mexican was a little fellow, and short of leg, it was not long +before the pursuer caught up with him. + +"Hol' on, yo' yaller rascal!" laughed Sambo, reaching out for the Mexican. +Nicolas wheeled about, dancing out of reach of the negro's massive hands. + +"Stand still, yo' li'l' Greaser!" laughed Sambo. + +"Now you have insult me, and I show you what I do to you!" snarled Nicolas, +his brown face aflame at the taunting word, "Greaser." + +"Come heah!" jeered Sambo, making a bound and reaching for the small man. + +Nicolas dodged, but he did not run away. Instead, he bobbed up inside of +the negro's reach. The Mexican thrust out his slim, sinewy right-hand +forefinger. A vicious poke he gave with it, landing sharply on a spot +just about an inch and a quarter below the base of the negro's breast bone. + +"Woof!" panted Sambo, half doubling, for Nicolas had touched a tender spot. + +"You have insult me! You call me mean name!" raged Nicolas. "Stand steel, +you big black smoke!" + +Again Nicolas ducked and rushed in. Once more he employed his forefinger +tip in the same fashion, and with more power. + +"O-o-o-o-o-h! Wow!" gasped Sambo, this time doubling nearly to the ground. +"Get away, chile! I doan' wan' no mo' ob yo'!" + +"You have insult," insisted Nicolas angrily, "and I do much more yet to +you." + +This time the negro appeared almost helpless. Nicolas danced about, +looking for an opening. In desperation Sambo struck out with his powerful +left. It gave the Mexican the chance he wanted. Darting in, he repeated +his trick for the third time. + +The bulky negro lay down, groaning. He had too little breath left to be +dangerous. + +While this was going on Tom Reade had rolled over on his face. From this +position he succeeded in getting to his knees. Then he rose and hastened +toward the Mexican. + +"Nicolas, you're surely a little terror!" Reade admitted, admiringly. +"Now, untie my hands and we'll take care of Sambo." + +"Wait---jus' one leetle moment, Senor," begged the Mexican. He turned +back to Sambo, that forefinger ready for another jab. + +"Fo' de lub ob goodness---" gasped Sambo. But Nicolas was determined. He +made the jab, and Sambo all but lost the little breath that was in him. + +"Now, Senor, we do it all in one second," proclaimed the Mexican. From +his pocket he drew a knife, springing the blade open. Snip! snip! and the +young engineer was free of his lashings. + +"There's plenty of this cord left," declared Tom. "We'll fix up our black +friend." + +"Do not use that word, Senor," implored Nicolas. "He is _no_ good! He +is scoundrel! He call me Greaser, an' I will keeck off his head for eet!" + +"Wait until we get him tied," Tom proposed. + +Sambo, by this time, had gained strength enough to sit up. He was +wondering whether he could rise to his feet and sprint away from this +dangerous little fury of a Mexican. + +"Wait, you black cloud!" cried Nicolas. "I will put you down again!" + +"Yo' get away from me---please do!" begged Sambo, recoiling in terror. + +"Sambo," laughed Tom, "Africa shouldn't have stirred up Mexico as you did. +Now, lie down on your face, place your hands behind you, and I will +persuade him to let you alone." + +Sambo hesitated. + +"Let me at him, Senor!" begged Nicolas, maneuvering forward, his right hand +ready. "He is _no_ good, I tell you! But I feex him!" + +With a yell Sambo Ebony flopped over on his face, placing his hands behind +his back. + +"Let him alone, Nicolas, as long as he minds," ordered Reade, catching the +excited Mexican by the collar. "Only, if he shows signs of making trouble +then sail into him fast." + +No sign of trouble, however, was there in Sambo. He lay as meek as a lamb +while Tom used a lot of the spare cord in taking sundry hitches around the +negro's wrists. + +"I don't believe he'll get out of that," said Reade grimly, "Now, we'll +fix his feet." + +This, too, was done, and Sambo lay helpless on the ground. + +"You'll make a fine-looking jailbird, my friend," mocked Tom, looking down +at the prisoner. "Nor did any man ever better deserve the striped suit +that the State of Alabama will present you. Now, Nicolas, I'll stay and +watch this black treasure while you run and find help." + +"Senor, you go yourself," begged the Mexican. "The men will obey you more +queeckly than they would me." + +"Oh, you find some of the men and tell 'em to come here to get the fellow +who has been blowing up the wall, and they'll come fast enough," smiled +Tom. + +"But, Senor, suppose thees scoundrel free himself?" + +"I won't let him, Nicolas." + +"But eef he do?" persisted the Mexican. "Then, as I have shown you, Senor, +I can take fine care of heem!" + +"There's something in that, too," laughed Tom. "Nicolas, I don't believe +it will be risking you any if I leave you here. Besides, I won't have to +be gone very long." + +"If this black scoundrel he get restless, Senor, I will amuse heem with my +forefinger." + +Sambo groaned; Nicolas grinned. + +"All right," Tom Reade laughed. "I'll be back as soon as I can." + +Away he raced at a dog-trot, chuckling. The contrast between bulky Sambo +and little Nicolas and the big negro's comic fear of the slim little +fellow kept Reade laughing. + +"But where on earth did Nicolas learn that trick?" Tom wondered. "I shall +have to get him to show it to me. Plainly that trick is worth more than +all the muscle that I spent so many years in piling on." + +Tom headed his course for the shore end of the wall. Here he would find +men in abundance. Moreover, now that the big black was a prisoner the men +would hardly be needed on the wall. + +"I think I know just how Sambo worked it, too," the engineer reflected, as +he ran. "He swam out into the Gulf, towing that little scow behind him. +Neither his black head nor the little scow would be seen far on the water +on a dark night. Sambo, when he got near enough, could take one of the +metal tubes, swim in under water to some point where no watchman was near, +and stick the tube fast into the wall. Then another tube, and +another---all under water where they would not show to a passing watchman. + +"Then, when he had all in place, and while no patrolling watchman was too +near, Sambo could begin to attach the wires. That would take but a few +minutes. Whenever any one came too near Sambo had but to swim out a little +way and tread water until he could return to his job. When, at last, all +was complete, Sambo would attach a wire from the bombs to a wire moored at +a stated point under water, and then swim in, work his magneto, and touch +the whole thing off from a safe hiding place on shore. The explosion +itself would shatter the last length of wire. Oh, but it was all slick +and easy!" + +Not increasing his speed, but keeping steadily at the jog-trot, Tom was at +last near enough to the wall to raise his voice and shout. + +"Hullo!" came back the answer. + +"This is Reade, the chief engineer," Tom answered, through the night. +"We've caught the fellow that has been blowing up the wall. A half a +dozen of you men hurry over here with your lanterns. Come on the run." + +The man who had answered summoned several of his comrades as quickly as he +could. As the men had to come in from the wall, however, it took a little +time. Then six men reported, almost breathless, to Reade. Still behind +them came Corbett on the run, summoned from the boat. + +"What's this I hear, Mr. Reade?" puffed the foreman. "You've solved the +mystery and caught the fellow who has been dynamiting the wall?" + +"Got him and he's tied up, waiting for his ride to jail," Tom chuckled. + +"How did it happen, sir?" asked Corbett, staring with his eyes very wide +open. + +"I caught the fellow---a huge giant of a negro, the same fellow who got +Hazelton the other night," replied Tom. "But before the fight was over the +black 'got' me, instead, and had me tied up. Then Nicolas came along and +put the negro out of the fight, and---" + +"Nicolas?" demanded Foreman Corbett incredulously. + +"Yes. Nicolas proved himself to be the most fiery little bunch of fighting +material that I have ever seen," laughed Reade, as they walked rapidly +along. + +"How could that Mexican wallop a giant?" + +"I'll ask Nicolas to show you, to-morrow," Tom laughed mischievously. +"But, Corbett, I believe that four bombs are even now attached to some +part of the retaining wall, ready to be set off. + +"Great Scott!" + +"They won't be set off, though," continued Reade. "I found the firing +magneto, and had a chance to cut the wires." + +The foreman wanted to ask more questions, while the half dozen workmen +trudged along close at their heels, eager to hear every word. Tom, +however, suggested that they save their breath in the interest of speed, +until they had Mr. Sambo Ebony in safe custody. + +"Here we come, Nicolas!" Tom called, as the party neared the spot where +captor and captive had been left. + +There was no response. + +"Nicolas!" Tom called again, with a start. + +Still no answer. + +"I don't like the look of that," Reade uttered. "Let's get there on the +sprint!" + +Tom himself caught at one of the lanterns, leading the way. Neither the +negro nor the Mexican was where the young chief engineer had left them. + +Feverishly, Tom began to search the ground, holding his lantern close. + +"Hang the luck!" he quivered, pointing to fragments of cord on the sand. +"That negro simply burst his bonds---and now where is he? Where is +Nicolas, for that matter? I thought the little fellow, with his trick, +could easily take care of the big black." + +But, though they spread out and searched, there was no sign of either the +negro or the little brown man. + +"I can't understand what has happened," quivered Tom Reade, thinking more +of the staunch little Mexican than of the loss of the prisoner. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A TEST OF REAL NERVE + + +"What an idiot I was not to stop to consider that Sambo Ebony could snap +those cords!" groaned Tom, staring disconcertedly about him. "Yet, if +Nicolas were safe I wouldn't so much mind the escape of the black. I shall +see him again, and I shall know him wherever I see him." + +"Let's look for the trail," proposed Foreman Corbett, holding one of the +lanterns close to the ground. + +The trail, however, was easy neither to distinguish nor to follow. + +"We may as well leave here and search farther," concluded the young +engineer. "Before we go, though, we'll get the magneto and take it with +us." + +Then the procession turned toward the land end of the retaining wall. + +"If Nicolas doesn't show up soon," Tom murmured to the foreman, "I shall +notify the Blixton police and offer a reward for news of him. That little +fellow is too faithful to be left to his fate." + +"What would the negro want of Nicolas?" queried the foreman. + +"Revenge," Tom replied. "It makes a big bully like him furious to be +handled the way Nicolas treated him. But I can't understand how Nicolas +failed to repeat his clever trick with the black." + +Arrived at the water front the magneto was dumped into the motor boat. + +"Seems to me I would smash that thing all to pieces," Suggested Foreman +Corbett. "It has done harm enough around this wall." + +"I don't believe in destroying anything that is useful," Reade answered, +shaking his head. "Besides, we are going to capture Sambo yet, and then +we shall want that magneto for evidence." + +"What are you going to do to find Nicolas?" Corbett wanted to know. + +"I wish I had even an idea," Tom sighed. "Corbett, I wish you would hurry +over to Blixton and rout out the police. I've an idea that Sambo may have +a hiding place in the town. Nicolas, too, may have been taken that way. +I'll sit down and write out a good description of the rascal." + +This Reade did, handing the paper to the foreman. + +"Who'll take charge here? Corbett asked. + +"I will, until you get back, but hurry." + +As soon as the foreman had gone Tom stepped into the motor boat, taking +the wheel. + +"Tune up the engine, Conlon," Reade directed the engine tender. "I'm going +to take a run around to the west side of the wall. I'm going to try to +find the tubes of high explosive that I'm satisfied were planted in the +wall." + +"That's a fine job for a dark night, sir," grumbled Conlon. "Suppose we +run into the bombs, and they prove to be contact exploders, too?" + +"That's one of the risks of the business," Tom retorted grimly. + +Before the motor boat had gone far Tom called one of the men aboard to take +the wheel. Then the young chief engineer began to experiment with the +searchlight. + +"What's the idea, sir?" asked Conlon, looking on. + +"I want to depress the light, so that we can use it to look down into the +water." + +"And try to find the bombs?" + +"Exactly," Reade nodded. + +"Lucky if we don't find the bombs with the keel of the boat," observed +Conlon. + +Tom succeeded in rigging the light so that he could use it. By the time +that the boat was around at the west side of the retaining wall Tom ordered +the boat in close alongside. Then, with the depressed searchlight he +discovered that he could see the sides of the wall to a depth of some eight +feet under the surface. + +"That may be enough for our needs," Reade murmured. "Now, run the boat +along, slowly and close. I want to scan every bit of the wall." + +Less than five minutes later Tom Reade, one hand controlling the +searchlight and peering steadily into the water, sang out: + +"Stop! Back her---slowly. There, come back five feet. So! Hold her +steady!" + +As the engine stopped Conlon stepped forward, kneeling by Reade's side. + +"There are the bombs, man!" cried Tom exultantly. "See them---the two +upper ones?" + +"I see something that gleams," admitted Conlon. + +"Well, we'll have them up and aboard in a hurry. Then you'll see just +what they are." + +"You're not going to try to raise the things with the boathook, are you?" +queried the engine tender, a look of alarm in his eyes. + +"That might be risky," admitted Reade. "I'll go over the side after them +and bring them up. + +"Don't, Mr. Reade!" urged Conlon with a shiver. "That'll be worse still. +You're likely to blow yourself into the next world!" + +"I think not---hope not, anyway," answered Tom steadily. "Have you a pair +of pliers in your tool box that'll cut small wires?" + +"Yes," replied Conlon. + +"Get them for me." + +Reade removed his coat, shoes and socks, then took the pliers. + +"Let one of the men jump ashore with the boathook and hold the boat +steady," was Reade's next direction. + +This being done, Reade deflected the searchlight for one more look into the +water. Then, the pliers in his right hand, he mounted to the rail of the +boat. + +"Be careful, sir---do," begged Conlon. "What I'm afraid of is that the +bombs are contact exploders." + +"It's likely," nodded Reade. "I'll be as careful as I can." + +Tom did not dive; the distance was too short. Instead, he let himself down +into the water slowly. Then his head vanished beneath the surface of the +water. + +"Whew! The nerve of that young fellow!", thought Conlon with shuddering +admiration. + +"Ob co'se Massa Reade done got nerve," nodded the negro at the wheel. +"Dat's one reason why, Misto Conlon, Massa Reade is boss." + +"There are other reasons why he's boss," grunted the engine tender. "Mr. +Reade has nerve, but he also has brains in his head. Any man with brains +and the sense to use 'em goes to the top, while I stay down a good deal +lower, and you, Rastus, are still lower." + +"Ah reckon Ah got a two-bit hat on top o' only two cents' wo'th o' brains, +Misto Conlon," grinned the darkey. + +Conlon was an Irishman, and naturally, therefore, no coward. Yet with the +possibility that Tom would run afoul of a contact-exploding bomb and send +them all skyward, the engine tender waited at the rail with drawn breath. + +Finally, there was a ripple on the water. Then Tom's head appeared; next +his shoulders. + +"Conlon!" + +"Here, sir." + +"Here is one of the bombs. Handle it carefully." + +"Trust me, sir." + +Conlon drew the metal tube, with a piece of wire pendant from it, as +carefully as though it had been a royal baby and heir to a throne. Into +the boat the engine tender lifted the thing, and laid it carefully in a +locker. By the time that Conlon was back at the rail Reade had gone below +again. + +"Down dere, aftah mo' death!" grinned the darkey. A colored man can +usually be brave when serving under a white leader in whom he has full +confidence. + +Presently Tom came up with another metal tube, like the first. + +"I'll hang on and get my breath," Tom informed the men in the boat, as he +rested one hand on the rail. "The other two bombs are about three feet +lower, and it's going to be hard to work at the lower depth." + +"Be careful, won't you, sir?" urged Conlon, in a somewhat awed voice. "Mr. +Reade, we can't afford to lose you until this job is completed. Men with +all the nerve you show are scarce in the world." + +"I know where there are forty thousand men with at least as much nerve, +many of them having several times as much as I," laughed Tom. + +"Where on earth are they?" demanded the Irishman. + +"In the United States Navy. If there were a battleship here the jackies +would be fighting for the honor of going down after these bombs." + +Then Reade dropped out of sight, once more. Nor was it long before he +had the third and the fourth bombs aboard the boat. Then he climbed in +himself, dripping like a shaggy Newfoundland dog. + +"Put in at the dock now," the young chief ordered, and the boat started on +its way. + +"Some one signaling from the wall lower down," Tom soon informed the negro +pilot. "Put in where you see the signaling." + +"It is I, Corbett," called the foreman of that name. "Mr. Reade, these +two men with me belong to the Blixton police." + +"Perhaps you had rather walk down to the dock, then, instead of getting +into the boat," laughed Reade. "We have four bombs aboard, just taken +out of the wall above here." + +Accordingly the three turned and walked. At the landing the policemen +gazed curiously at the bombs. + +"Do you want to take charge of these?" Reade queried. + +"Not particular about it," replied the policeman, with a shrug. "We'd +be scorched for endangering the town if we took those things into Blixton. +Your foreman, Mr. Reade, called us out here to see if we could get trail +of your missing Mexican servant." + +"That's a vastly more important thing to do," Tom replied with enthusiasm. +"I want to find Nicolas before I do another thing." + +"Come here, Bill," called one of the officers. + +Out of the shadows near the shore came a youth leading a dog on a leash. + +"This dog is a bloodhound," announced one of the policemen with visible +pride. "Take him to where the scent of the Mexican starts, and the dog +will follow as long as there's any scent left. But, first, we'll have to +have something that the Mexican has worn, so that the hound will know the +true scent." + +"That will take but a few minutes," declared Reade energetically. "Come +up to the house, and I'll find something that Nicolas has worn." + +Corbett remained behind to take care of the bombs. Tom led the officers +and the youth with the hound on a brisk walk up to the house. + +"Wait out here," murmured Tom, "and I'll bring something out. If we all +go into the house we'll wake my partner, Hazelton, and he has enough work +to do in the daytime, without being kept up at night." + +While the others remained outside Tom stole into the house. There was a +room in the rear, off the kitchen, where Nicolas slept. Into that room +Reade stepped noiselessly. + +It was not necessary to strike a match, for, in the very faint light there, +Tom espied an object on the foot of the bed that he recognized---one of +the Mexican's white canvas shoes. + +Tom snatched it up quickly. Then, despite his steady nerves, he staggered +back. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +TOM MAKES AN UNEXPECTED CAPTURE + + +For an unearthly scream pierced the air. There was a wrench, a bounding +figure---and then Tom Reade felt a jolt near his solar plexus that made +him gasp. + +"Stop that!" gasped the young chief engineer. + +"You, Senor?" demanded an incredible, drowsy voice. + +"Yes; it's I---Reade." + +"A thousand pardons, Senor!" + +"So this is you, Nicolas?" + +"Yes, Senor." + +"What are you doing here?" + +"The negro got away from me." + +"I know that, but---" + +"I could not help it, Senor. I assure you I was not careless." + +"I never knew you to be careless, Nicolas." + +"Thank you, Senor. But I stood over that black scoundrel, watching for +the slightest move on his part. I had my forefinger ready, and he did not +dare move." + +"I can quite believe that," agreed Tom, dryly, "after the poke you just +gave me." + +"Again a thousand pardons, Senor, but in the dark, and awaking so suddenly, +I did not see you or know you." + +"I can quite believe that, Nicolas." + +"As I was saying, Senor, I was watching over the black man when some one +came up behind me---so softly that I did not hear. But I felt. _Ah!_ What +I felt! It was a fist that seemed to break in the top of my head. Down I +went, and I heard a voice. I knew that voice, too. So would you have +known it, Senor!" + +"Whose voice was it?" asked Tom, curiously. + +"The voice of Evarts." + +"The discharged foreman?" + +"Yes, Senor. But I am delaying my story. While Evarts was speaking I +heard another sound. At one effort the negro snapped the cords that held +him. Ah, he is a powerful brute." + +"He is," Tom affirmed solemnly. + +"I knew it was my task to keep the negro from getting away," continued the +little Mexican excitedly. "So I leaped up, extended my forefinger and +rushed at him. But thees Evarts---hees feest catch me between the eyes. +I do not have to guess the spot where he struck me, Senor, for I can +feel it yet. Down I went, and knew no more. When next I opened my +eyes I found myself lying in the middle of a theecket of bushes. I theenk, +perhaps, the scoundrels believed they had killed me, and so they hid my +body. But I have fool' them. I am still alive---much alive!" + +"What did you do when you came to, Nicolas?" + +"Senor," protested the Mexican, "there was no more need of me. You had +gone after men. Eef you came back, you have many men with you, so you do +not need me. For that reason I come home." + +Even in the dark the young engineer could "feel" Nicolas's shudder. Tom +could not repress a smile that threatened to become a chuckle. + +"I was varee sleepy," continued Nicolas, "and so I lay down. I forgot to +undress, or even to take off my shoes. I fall asleep, and I dream much. +I see the big negro again, and I dream that I have more fight with heem. +Then, when you pull my foot, I wake up in one gr-rand sweat, for I theenk +the big black attack me once more. I am glad---so glad that it is not +true." + +"Nicolas," cried Tom, "you have done fighting enough for one night. Yet +tell me, how did you happen to be at hand to-night in time to save me from +Mr. Sambo Ebony?" + +"Because I see you start away to-night," replied Nicolas, "an' I see that +you go alone. I know that you mos' likely run into trouble, an' so I +follow you. Sure enough, Senor, you find trouble---and I heet heem with +my finger!" + +"You surely did 'hit him with your finger,' Nicolas," laughed Tom, grasping +the little Mexican's hand and wringing it. "But now come outside. I had +sent for the police to find you, and now I must show them that you are +already found." + +Together they went out on the porch. Tom explained the situation. + +"Then you don't need us, after all?" asked one of the policemen. + +"Not to find Nicolas," Tom Reade admitted. "But do you know Evarts?" + +"Used to be your foreman?" + +"Yes." + +"We know him," nodded the policeman. + +"Then," Reade continued, "I wish you would search through Blixton for +him. If you find him, be good enough to lock him up and notify me." + +"Is there a warrant out against him?" asked one of the policemen, +cautiously. + +"You don't need one," Tom replied. "I will make a charge of felony +against Evarts, to the effect that he is concerned in the outrages +against our wall. On a felony charge you don't need a warrant. Then, +too, try to find the big negro." + +"What's his name?" + +"I don't know his name," Tom answered. "I've dubbed him 'Sambo Ebony.' +You have the description of him that I wrote out. Arrest Sambo, by all +means, if you can find him, and I'll make a felony charge against him, +too. The negro is the one who has been blowing up the sea wall." + +"We'll look for the pair all through the town, Mr. Reade," promised the +officers. + +"Do! And, on behalf of the company, I'll offer a two-hundred dollar reward +for the arrest of each man!" + +With that prospect to spur them on the policemen hastened away, followed +by the young man with the bloodhound. + +"Now, Nicolas," pressed Reade, turning around at the faithful little brown +man, "you tumble back into bed." + +"But you, Senor?" + +"Don't worry about me. I've probably done all I need to do to-night. I +shall probably sit here on the porch and think until daylight. Then I'll +call Hazelton, and go to bed for a few hours' sleep before I appear in +court against the gamblers and the bootleggers. Go to bed, Nicolas, and +sleep! That's an order, remember!" + +The Mexican therefore went to his bedroom without protest. Presently Reade +became aware of the fact that his clothing had not by any means fully +dried. He went to his room, took a vigorous rub-down, donned dry clothing, +and then went out on the porch. + +Though the night was dark the air was delicious. The combined odors of +many flowers came in on the faintly stirring breeze. + +Tom leaned back in a chair, his feet on the porch railing. His senses +lulled by the quiet and repose of the night he was in danger of falling +asleep. + +Of a sudden he came to with a start. Off among the trees to the eastward, +near the road, a human being was stirring. + +Reade rose, moving swiftly back more into the shadow. Then he watched, +every sense alert. Yes; some one was moving, out there amid the trees. +What he could not see, Tom discovered by his acute sense of hearing. + +"I'll put a hot pebble in that fellow's bonnet, whoever he is!" Tom +muttered vengefully. Entering the house, he left at the rear, then made +a stealthy, roundabout trip that brought him at the farther edge of the +litte grove of trees. + +Now the young engineer crouched close to the ground as he listened. Once +more he heard that some one moving, not many yards away. It was +pitch-black in there amid the trees. Guided by his ears, Tom moved closer +and closer without making a betraying sound. Suddenly he found the tall +figure looming up almost in his path. + +"Now, I've got you!" cried Tom exultantly, making a bound that should have +carried his hands to the throat of the prowler. + +But the other, like a flash, went on the defensive. Tom felt himself +parried, then clutched at. The next instant the prowler had the young +engineer in a tackle that carried Tom Reade back to the good old high +school days at home. The young engineer was dumped on the ground as though +he had been a sack of flour. + +"Great Scott!" quivered Tom Reade. "No one but Dick Prescott ever had +that tackle down fine!" + +"Well, you blithering idiot!" came the indignant answer. "That's who I +am---Prescott!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE ARMY "ON THE JOB" + + +"You, Dick?" gasped Tom, stumbling ruefully to his feet. Then he leaped +at his late foe, throwing his arms around him. The two fairly hugged each +other, Yes; here was Dick Prescott, not so many weeks a graduate of the +Military Academy at West Point, and now, if you please, Second Lieutenant +Richard Prescott, United States Army! + +"Well, of all the strange things that the Illinois Central Railroad brings +into Alabama!" grunted Tom, now gripping Dick by the hand and holding on +as though he never meant to let go. + +"If the Illinois Central had built its tracks through to Blixton I probably +would have arrived at a civilized hour," laughed Dick. "As it was, I had +to come in on a wood-burning, backwoods road and the train was only five +hours and a half behind schedule. Then, from a sleepy policeman I got +directions that enabled me to find this place after an hour's hard work." +To what effect? Only to be pounced upon by you as though you had caught me +in the act of stealing all the water in the Gulf of Mexico!" + +"Stop your roasting," laughed Tom joyfully. "But say, it _does_ seem good +to set eyes on you again, after two years." + +All of our readers who have read the "_High School Boys Series_" and the +"_West Point Series_" know all about Dick Prescott, the famous leader of +Dick & Co. + +"What are you now?" Tom asked eagerly. "A general, or only a colonel?" + +"Nothing but a shavetail," laughed Dick. "Shavetail is the army nickname +for a second lieutenant." + +"I've got to join my regiment, the Thirty-fourth Infantry, out in Colorado +very soon," continued Prescott. "But I came down here to spend a few days +with you, if you can stand me." + +"If we can stand you!" chuckled Tom, patting his old high school chum on +the back. "Say, where's Greg?" + +Greg Holmes had been another member of Dick & Co., and Dick's chum and +comrade at West Point. + +"Well, you see," laughed Lieutenant Prescott, "Greg has been falling in +love with six girls a year regularly ever since he entered West Point. +Now that he's in the army he has started in to increase the yearly +average. He's visiting a Miss Deering, who lives near Chicago." + +"Greg's likely never to marry," wisely remarked Tom. "These fellows who +catch a new love fever every few weeks always end up by finding that no +girl wants them. But say, Dick you hardly look the soldier." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, one would expect to see an army officer in uniform, you know." + +"An officer rarely travels in uniform, unless on duty with troops," +explained Dick. + +"How did you like West Point?" + +"Fine!" said Dick, grimly. "It was like four years in prison, only more +so. When I look back I shudder at the incessant grind I had to endure +there. Yet I'm going to be happy, now I'm through, for I couldn't be happy +anywhere except in the United States Army." + +"What crazy notions some folks have of happiness," murmured Tom, mockingly. +"However, old fellow, we're not going to fight, are we? Now, hustle over +to the house. Harry is sleeping at the present moment, but I won't let +him have a wink more of sleep to-night. It's getting toward daylight, +anyway, and too much sleep isn't good for a fellow. But don't talk above +a whisper, Dick, when we get near the house. I don't want Harry, by any +chance, to catch a sound of your voice until he comes out on the porch and +runs into you." + +Chatting away in low tones the two old-time high school chums gained the +porch. + +"Now, just stay here," whispered Tom, then strode into the house. He +entered his partner's room, gripping the slumber-seized Hazelton with a +strong clasp. + +"Oh, quit your fooling!" protested a sleepy voice from the pillow. + +"Time to get up, you slant-eyed rations stealer!" muttered Tom gruffly. +"Come on. You're needed, and there's no time to be lost. Up with you!" + +Tom dragged his drowsy partner from the bed, seating him on the edge of it. + +"Now, shed your pajamas and pull on something decent," Reade commanded +grimly. "Hustle! There's a conference going on outside, and you're +wanted. Hurry! Want me to dump the pitcher of water on you? I'll do it +if you give your eyes another rub!" + +Hazelton was now fully convinced that something important was in the air. +If not, he knew that his chum never would have hauled him out of bed in the +darkest hours of the night. + +"If you throw any water I'll shave you with the bread-knife," retorted +Harry. "But you can keep on talking to me, so that I won't fall asleep +while I'm trying to dress." + +Slowly, at first, then more rapidly, Hazelton got his clothes on. Pouring +water into the basin he sopped a towel in it, then liberally applied it to +his face. The water waked him rapidly. + +"Now, lead me forth to where duty calls," mimicked Harry. + +"Run along out on to the porch," ordered Tom. "I'll be there in a moment." + +Still yawning, Hazelton groped his way out into the hall, along the dark +passage, and thence out into the night. Some one stood there, and Harry +walked curiously toward him. + +"Howdy, whoever you are," was Hazelton's greeting. + +"Halloo, Harry, old chum," came Dick Prescott's laughing answer. + +"Dick Prescott!" gasped Harry delightedly. + +"I suppose you think I might have waited until daylight," laughed Dick, +as their hands met. + +"I'm heartily glad you didn't wait," said Harry. "How long can you stay +with us?" + +"Not as long as I'd like to, for I'm due at Fort Clowdry in a very few +days." + +"And Greg?" + +Lieutenant Prescott gave the same explanation he had furnished Tom. + +"How does it seem to be an army officer?" Harry continued. + +"I believe it to be the finest career on earth," Prescott answered. +"Still, as you can guess, I'm utterly without experience so far. After a +few days more I shall have my first day as an officer on duty with troops. +But do you and Tom continue to find engineering the grandest career on +earth?" + +"We certainly do," affirmed Hazelton. + +"It must be very interesting," agreed Dick. "Still, I imagine there is +yet enough of the primitive savage in the average man to make him enjoy a +real fight once in a while. That's an experience you're denied in your +calling, but an army officer may always look forward to the chance of +seeing a little fighting." + +Hazelton glanced humorously at his partner before he replied: + +"At present there's a very good chance of a fight right here at this camp." + +"So?" Dick Prescott asked, sitting up with a look of interest. + +"Not so much chance as there was," said Tom gravely. "The fight came off +to-night. Harry, I met the big black---caught him redhanded." + +"You did?" cried Hazelton, leaping up. "And you never called me?" + +"There wasn't any chance," Tom assured him. "The meeting and the fight +didn't take place on this porch." + +Tom now had two very interested auditors. For Prescott's benefit Reade +first sketched a brief outline of the troubles that had led up to the +present, including an account of the wrecking of substantial portions of +the retaining wall. Then he came down to the events of the night. + +"Oh, and I had to miss it," sighed Harry, disappointedly. "I'd have missed +a week of sleep just to have been in to-night's doings. And, if I had been +with you, Tom, we'd now have Mr. Sambo Ebony in jail." + +"I think we've blocked the black rascal's game on the wall, anyway," said +Tom. + +"There's just a fair chance that you haven't yet blocked it," remarked the +young army officer thoughtfully. "Of course this Sambo of yours merely +represents a well-organized gang. This gang may have more ways than one +of damaging the property of the Melliston Company. From all I can see, Tom +and Harry, you're likely to need to be more vigilant than ever. Whew! But +I'm glad that I can be with you a few days. I'm likely to come in for a +choice lot of excitement. Also, I may very likely be able to help out a +lot." + +"We wouldn't put you to that trouble, Dick," protested Tom. "You're to be +our guest---not our policeman." + +"Are you going to try to keep me out of all the excitement and fun?" +Lieutenant Dick demanded, indignantly. "Sleep? Can't I get enough of that +when I go aboard a Pullman again and am riding out to Colorado? Of course +I'm going to help---and I'm going to have my share of all the opportunities +for excitement here---or else I'm going to cut your acquaintance." + +"Why, of course we'll be delighted to have your help, Dick, if you want to +stand the racket," Reade made haste to say. "It will surely seem like +doubling---or trebling---our forces, to have Dick Prescott working hand in +hand with us." + +"Then that's settled," cried Dick, with an air of satisfaction. + +"You haven't had any sleep lately, have you, Dick?" inquired Tom, after +they had chatted a little longer. + +"No; I haven't." + +"Then you must turn in and get a few hours," proposed Reade. "I must have +a little myself, as I shall have to be up and go into court during the +coming forenoon." + +"I'm wide awake now," said Harry. "So I'll sit right here on the porch +and dream of Dick and Greg, and good old Dave Darrin and Danny Dalzell, +and the good times we had in old Gridley. What time do you want to be up, +Tom?" + +"Not later than eight," Reade answered. + +"Trust me," said Harry promptly. Harry went to his own bedroom, pulled his +bed apart, remade it with fresh linen, and with a final grip of Dick's +hand, he left the army officer to turn in there. + +At eight o'clock Hazelton called both Tom and Dick. They turned out +promptly, to find that Nicolas had laid an appetizing breakfast on the +porch. + +Then Tom had to hurry over to Blixton, Dick going with him, while Hazelton +went down to the breakwater to superintend the day's work there. + +Only a little time had to be spent in the justice's stuffy court. Hawkins +and his fellow gamblers and bootleggers were arraigned and held in one +thousand dollars' bail each for trial. As none of them had the money the +eight men were sent to the county jail pending trial. + +"That's queer," mused Tom, aloud, as he and Dick walked back to camp. +"You'd think that professional gamblers would have money enough to put up +small bail." + +"Not if they're working for other people," suggested Dick. "These men may +be merely the agents of some larger crowd." + +"Meaning that the larger crowd may be a sort of vice trust, operating in +many fields at the same time?" queried Reade. + +"Something of the sort," replied the young army officer. "To-day nearly +everything has been capitalized on a large scale of combined capital. Why +shouldn't vice be?" + +"I begin to think you're more than half right in your guess," Tom admitted. +"Your explanation is about the only way to account for a fellow like +Hawkins not having a thousand at his instant disposal. However, if these +fellows represent a vice trust, then I suppose it will be a question of +only a little time when the trust sends down money enough to put up the +needed bail." + +"That will undoubtedly happen," nodded Dick. "And then you'll have to look +out for that fellow, Hawkins, and all the men he can command. Hawkins +looked at you, in court, as though he'd enjoy pulverizing you." + +"I'm ready, when he is," laughed Tom. "If he'd only fight in the open I +wouldn't be at all afraid of him." + +Tom now led the way down to the retaining wall. Prescott gazed with great +interest at the signs of activity. On a closer inspection he was even +more interested. He was capable of understanding very fully what was being +done here, for every graduate of the United States Military Academy is +supposed to be a capable engineer. + +"You've a difficult task on hand, but your basic principle is sound, and +you're doing the work finely and economically," Dick declared with +emphasis. + +Harry came in from the outer end of the wall and joined them. He listened +with pride to the praises that the army officer showered on the engineers. + +"I wish Mr. Bascomb, the president of the company, could hear you," said +Harry. "He isn't altogether sure that we know what we're about in anything +that we're doing." + +"Then I've a very good mental picture of Bascomb," declared Dick, bluntly. +"Bascomb is something of a chump. By the way, if you want to get square +with Mr. Bascomb, why don't you coax him down here to help you look out for +the evil-doers who are combined against you?" + +"He wouldn't be much use," sighed Tom. "He's an impossible sort of chap. +He wanted us to stop our crusade against camp vice. Said it was hurting +business." + +"What craft is that?" inquired Dick, looking toward a sailboat that was +moving lazily along about a half-mile to the eastward. + +"I don't know," Tom answered, after a look. "Never saw the boat before. +Regular cabin cruiser, isn't she, about forty feet long?" + +"About that," nodded Dick. "What interested me in her was the fact that a +fellow on board has been watching us with a marine glass. I caught the +glint of the sun on the lenses." + +"Why should he want to be watching us?" demanded Hazelton. + +"That's just what made me curious," replied Prescott. "As an army officer, +if this were a fort that I commanded in troublous times, I'd want to look +into any strange craft that I caught cruising lazily in the offing and +holding a marine glass on us." + +"I wonder if that boat can be in the service of those who are annoying us?" +Tom muttered. + +"It's an even chance that it is a 'hostile ship,'" Prescott suggested. +"You have a motor boat here. I'm inclined to think you ought to use it in +overhauling that suspicious craft. Of course you'd have no right unless +there was a police officer along. Can you get one?" + +"The authorities in Blixton would send a policeman on request." + +"Then send a messenger to request them to send over a policeman in +citizen's clothes," proposed Dick. + +Tom promptly despatched Foreman Dill on that errand. + +"Now don't let the men on the boat see that you're paying any more +attention," Prescott advised. "Leave it to me, and I'll contrive to keep +the boat and its people under observation without looking too plainly in +their direction." + +In due time the plain clothes policeman arrived. He, the young engineers +and the army lieutenant boarded the "Morton," which put out from the +landing as though on a trip of inspection of the wall. + +"Don't anyone look over at the sloop," Prescott urged. "I'll do the +watching. A fellow on that craft is holding the glasses on us right now. +Officer, do you demand the assistance of all present in any police duty +that may come up?" + +"I do," replied the Blixton policeman, a man named Carnes, returning +Prescott's wink. + +"All right, then," laughed Dick. "That demand makes policemen of us all. +Tom, you can turn, now, when ready, and put on full speed in going after +that craft." + +Reade gave the order for full speed, then took the steering wheel himself. + +"Guilty conscience!" laughed Prescott. "There's the sloop putting about at +once and heading away from us." + +"They can't get away from us, in this light wind," chuckled the young chief +engineer. + +A few minutes later the "Morton" came up within easy hailing distance of +the sloop, aboard which only one man now appeared. + +"Sloop ahoy!" called the policeman. "What are you doing in these waters?" + +"Looking for a good fishing ground," answered the dark-faced man at the +tiller. + +"Then you're too far in by some three miles," answered the policeman. + +"Thank you, cap'n," acknowledged the sailing master of the sloop. + +"You're welcome," the policeman continued, "but ease off your sheet and +lay to. We want to come aboard." + +"You can't!" flatly retorted the skipper. + +"You're wrong there," retorted the policeman. "This is a police party, +and I tell you that we are coming aboard. Lay to, or we shall have to +start a lot of trouble for you." + +In the policeman's hand suddenly glistened a revolver. Tom ran the motor +boat close alongside. With a snarl the man left off his sheet. The +policeman and Dick Prescott leaped aboard the craft, Tom and Harry +following. + +"This is a cheeky outrage!" snarled the skipper, scowling at the invaders. + +"Then keep the change, and welcome," laughed the policeman, taking his +stand close to the skipper. + +Dick Prescott made a dive at the cabin door, which was closed. + +"Open this door!" he summoned. + +As the door did not open Dick placed his shoulder against it. + +"Open the door, or I'll break it down," Dick insisted. + +There was still no answer. Thereupon Prescott proceeded to put his threat +into execution. Harry bounded forward to help. Under their combined +assault the door gave way. + +Lieutenant Prescott was the first to enter the dark little cabin. Poor as +the light was his eyes caught sight of something that made him gasp. + +"This is the big capture of the season!" cried Dick jubilantly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A NEW MYSTERY PEEPS IN + + +"Get out of here, or you'll get something you don't want," roared an ugly +voice at the farther end of the cabin. + +At sound of that voice Tom Reade started. He thrust his head in the open +doorway. + +"Hullo, Evarts!" called the young chief engineer. + +"Get out of here!" came the furious order. + +"So you've openly joined the enemy, Evarts?" demanded Tom, as his eyes +fell upon the object that had first claimed Lieutenant Dick Prescott's +attention. + +"You've no business here! Get out, or I'll shoot," cried Evarts, +defiantly. + +"Don't be too quick on the shoot," warned the Blixton policeman, who still +had his own revolver in his hand. "This is a police party, and you're +under arrest. Start any shooting trouble, and the air will be full of it." + +"Clear out, and I'll come outside and talk with you," proposed Evarts, for +it really was the discharged foreman. + +"All right," nodded the policeman. "Gentlemen, let him step outside." + +The others left the entrance to the cabin, As Evarts, his pistol now back +in his pocket, stepped sullenly outside, Harry Hazelton dropped back into +the doorway. + +"Glad to meet you, Mr. Evarts," grinned the police officer, deftly slipping +handcuffs on the fellow's wrists. + +"This is treachery!" stormed the prisoner. "I didn't surrender to you. +I only came out to talk with you." + +"If you didn't surrender, then excuse me, and go ahead and put up a fight," +laughed the policeman, handily removing Evarts's revolver from a hip +pocket. + +"Now, look in here, Tom," urged Dick. "Do you see what caught my eye?" + +Prescott pointed to a sharp-nosed cylinder, some eight feet long. Just as +it lay the propeller at the other end was invisible to one at the doorway +of the cabin. + +"It's a home-made imitation of a Whitehead torpedo," Lieutenant Dick went +on, in explanation. "If it proves to be charged with explosives then the +mere having of it aboard this sloop will prove embarrassing to these two +prisoners to explain in court. If it isn't loaded, that will be almost as +bad, as such a torpedo can be rather easily loaded, and then set in +operation by clock-work machinery that will control the propeller." + +"Young man, you seem to think you know a good deal about torpedoes," +sneered Evarts. + +"He ought to," Harry retorted quietly. "He's a West Point man and an army +officer. Therefore, he's a specialist in some kinds of explosives." + +Evarts's face turned somewhat paler at this information of having an army +officer on hand as a witness. + +"Do you call me a prisoner, too?" asked the man at the tiller uneasily. + +"Something like it, I guess," nodded Dick. + +"Say, but that's a pretty rank deal against an honest man," protested the +skipper hoarsely. "I hired this boat out to that man, the one you call +Evarts, but I didn't know what he was up to." + +"You didn't know that torpedoes are used for wicked work either, eh?" +pressed Lieutenant Dick. + +"I'll swear that I didn't know what it was that he brought on board," cried +the skipper. "Evarts said it was a new device for killing fish at +wholesale." + +"You may be telling the truth," Tom broke in. + +"I am," declared the skipper eagerly. + +"Then explain it to the court," Reade continued. "If you can prove to a +judge and a jury that you're an honest man, and always have been one, you +may get off on the charge that will be made against you." + +"Then you don't believe me?" asked the skipper anxiously. + +"It isn't for me to say," Tom replied crisply. "It's a job for a judge +and a jury." + +"Then I'm to be a prisoner?" + +"That's for the policeman here to say." + +"You're a prisoner, my man," nodded the policeman. "Now, sail your boat +into the landing over yonder." + +"Some one else will sail it," retorted the skipper, angrily, as he +abandoned his tiller. + +"I'll take the tiller," Harry suggested, and did so. He hauled in the +sheet, brought the boat around and headed for the landing with the skill +of an old sailor. + +"My man, since you don't want to sail the boat you'll have to go as a real +prisoner," announced the policeman. He produced a pair of handcuffs, +snapping them over the man's wrists. + +In a short time Harry brought the sailboat up to the landing. The motor +boat had followed, but did not come all the way in. After the sail had +been lowered and made snug the party took up its way, on foot, to the +nearby town of Blixton. + +Justice Sampson was found, and consented to open court immediately. +Officer Carnes brought his prisoners forward, stating the charge. The +young engineers and the army officer gave their testimony. + +"The prisoners are held for trial, and bail fixed at five thousand dollars +in each case," decided the court. + +The torpedo had been left on the sloop, in charge of a foreman. The +justice now ordered two officers to go back and bring over the torpedo, +which was to be held until a chemist could examine and take samples of +whatever explosive might be found inside. + +As Dick was a United States Army officer, under orders to proceed to his +post within the next few days, the court reduced his testimony to writing, +and permitted Prescott to sign this under oath. + +It had been a busy forenoon. Now it was time for luncheon, and the three +chums returned to the house to eat. In the afternoon they visited the +wall, remaining there until four o'clock. On their return to the house +Tom and Harry were greeted by Mr. Prenter, who had been waiting for them. + +"I heard the news of last night's doings, and to-day's, and came right +down," explained the treasurer of the Melliston Company. "Reade, I'm +glad to be able to say that you appear to have brought us to the end of +the explosion troubles." + +"Or else we're just starting with that trouble," Reade smiled wistfully. +"Mr. Prenter, I must say that there appears to be no end to the surprises +with which our enemies are capable of supplying us." + +Tom then nodded to Dick to come forward and presented him to the treasurer. + +"An army officer?" asked Mr. Prenter eagerly. "Then I'm doubly glad to +meet you, Mr. Prescott. You've seen the breakwater work? As an army +officer and an engineer what do you think of it?" + +"It's great!" said Dick, though he added laughingly: "Reade and Hazelton +are such dear old friends of mine that any testimony in their favor is +likely to be charged to friendship." + +"I'll believe what an army officer says, even in praise of his best +friends," smiled Mr. Prenter. + +Foreman Johnson, who had been over in town, now came along. He halted +some distance away, beckoning to Reade. + +"Mr. Reade," murmured the foreman, in an undertone, "over in Blixton I +just heard some news that I thought would interest you. Evarts is out on +bail." + +"He furnished a five thousand surety?" queried Tom. + +"Yes, sir, and who do you suppose went on his bond?" + +"I can't imagine who the idiot is." + +"The man who signed Evarts's bond," continued Foreman Johnson solemnly, +"was Mr. Bascomb, president of this company!" + +"Whew!" muttered Tom aghast. "And that's all I've got to say on this +subject." + +"I thought you'd like to know the news," remarked Johnson, "and so I came +to tell you." + +"Please accept my thanks," Tom answered. Then, as the foreman passed +along, Reade went back to his friends. + +"You seem staggered about something," remarked Mr. Prenter, eyeing him +keenly. + +"Possibly I am," admitted Tom. "Evarts is out on bail." + +"Now, what fool or rogue could have signed that fellow's bail bond?" +demanded Mr. Prenter in exasperation. + +"Careful, sir!" warned Tom smilingly. "I've just been informed that the +bail bond was signed by Mr. Bascomb, president of the Melliston Company." + +"Well, of all the crazy notions!" gasped Mr. Prenter. "But there! I won't +say more. Bascomb is a queer fellow in some things, but he's a good fellow +in lots of things, and a square, honest man in all things. If he signed +Evarts's bond, there was a reason, and not a dishonest one." + +"But Evarts won't behave," predicted Harry dismally. "After all our +trouble we shall still have to remain on guard night and day." + +"It'll be an airship next," laughed Dick Prescott. + +"Unless Sambo Ebony comes forward once more, and finds out how to lay wires +by a new submarine route," retorted Tom Reade. + +All the present company felt unaccountably gloomy just at this moment. +There could be no guessing what would occur next to hamper or destroy the +fruits of their hard labor. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +A SECRET IN SIGHT + + +"Mr. Prenter," asked Tom suddenly, "is there anything about which you wish +to see me just now?" + +"Not particularly," replied the treasurer. "Only, in view of late +developments I'm going to remain about for the next few days, unless you +order me out of the house. I want to be close to the trouble." + +"Then, if I'm not needed," gaped Reade, "I'm going to turn in and steal a +little sleep. I need rest." + +"As I'm going to stay up to-night, Tom, and keep you company through the +dark hours, I'm for the bale of lint, too," announced Lieutenant Prescott. + +"At what hour shall I call you?" asked Harry. + +"At eight o'clock to-night," answered Tom. + +Refreshed by a few hours' sleep Tom and Dick were called, to find their +supper ready. Nicolas stood behind their chairs, attentive to their needs. + +Mr. Prenter remained out on the porch, but Harry sat at table with his +friends. + +"Has Mr. Bascomb put in an appearance here?" Tom inquired. + +"No," said Hazelton briefly. + +"He certainly has wound up my curiosity," murmured Tom. "Why on earth +should he bail out Evarts?" + +"Probably because Evarts asked him to," suggested Dick. + +"But why should he want to please Evarts in such a matter?" + +"Well, you know," hinted Harry, "we've heard that Evarts is some sort of +relative to Mr. Bascomb." + +"But the rascal has been working to ruin this company," Tom protested, +"and Mr. Bascomb is the trusted president of the company." + +"Yet _is_ Mr. Bascomb really fit to be trusted?" Prescott propounded. + +"Mr. Prenter seems to think so, and he is a capable judge of men," Tom +rejoined. "It is the combination of all these circumstances taken together +that makes me so curious over Mr. Bascomb's being willing to bail the +fellow." + +"Oh, well, it's too much of a puzzle for us," said Harry, shrugging his +shoulders. "All we've got to do is to keep our eyes open and faithfully +guard the property that is entrusted to our care. However, I'm growing +sour and sore. Here I've got to go to bed presently, and you and Dick are +going to be prowling about all night. You'll have all the excitement, +while I'll be in bed." + +"You seem to forget," Tom reminded him, "that the last big excitement took +place in the daytime, during your shift. Dick and I may have a lazy night, +and you may have the air full of wreckage to-morrow in broad daylight." + +They chatted a little while with Mr. Prenter, outside, and then Dick rose +at Tom's signal. + +"We must be starting," said Reade. "I don't know just what we're going +to do to-night, but we have miles to cover I'm afraid." + +"Being an army officer, Dick, you've got a pistol, of course," suggested +Harry hopefully. + +"I've a brace of them," nodded the army man. + +"Good!" cheered Harry. + +"But both of them, unloaded at that, are in my trunks at Mobile," laughed +Dick, whereat Tom chuckled. Harry Hazelton was much inclined to want to +carry a pistol in times of danger, but Tom didn't believe in any such +habit. + +"I thought soldiers went armed," muttered Hazelton ruefully. + +"Only when on duty," Dick informed him. + +Nicolas wistfully watched Reade out of sight. The Mexican had been ordered +to remain at home to-night, and on no account to think of following his +employer. That didn't at all agree with the faithful fellow's wishes. + +"They'll be sure to get into some trouble, Senor Hazelton," Nicolas +said mournfully. "I should be on their flank, watching over them." + +"You don't know Gridley boys," laughed Harry, "if you don't understand +that Dick Prescott and Tom Reade, together, are a hard team to beat." + +In the meantime Tom led the way down to the camp of workmen. Reade +stopped to speak with one of his reliable negroes, whom he found softly +strumming a banjo under a tree. + +"Are there any visitors in camp to-night who shouldn't be here?" asked Tom. + +"I doan' beliebe so, boss," replied the colored man. "Dem gamblers an' +bootleggers ain' done got bail yet, has they, sah?" + +"I don't believe they have," replied Tom. "There are no others of their +kind here, then?" + +"I doan' beliebe so, sah." + +Tom and Dick strolled through the camp, but all was quiet there. Many of +the men were outside their shacks or tents, smoking and waiting for +turning-in time to come. + +"Looks as orderly as a camp-meeting," declared Lieutenant Prescott. "I'm +glad to see, Tom, that you're for the decent camp every time." + +"The decent camp is the only kind that contains efficient workmen for +engineering jobs," Reade answered dryly. + +Presently they strolled out of camp, on the farther side. This was what +the young engineer really wanted to do---to vanish suddenly, in a fashion +that would not be likely to be noted by hostile eyes. Now Reade and his +army chum proceeded softly, and without words. Through the deep woods Tom +was heading for the spot where he had found the magneto. + +Sambo Ebony was at large, and Tom believed that other things than the +magneto had been concealed at this spot. If Sambo intended any further +assaults on the retaining wall he would be quite likely to come this way. +So here Tom Reade was resolved to remain and watch, even if he had to put +in most of the night there. + +Behind some bushes he and Dick found a hiding place looking out upon the +scene of the late conflict with "Mr. Ebony." + +Without even whispered conversation time dragged slowly. More than an hour +dragged by, and both watchers were beginning to feel decidedly bored. + +At last, however, footsteps came that way. Both watchers crouched lower +and waited. + +The new-comer approached the place rather uncertainly. At last, however, +he stood revealed. Tom Reade felt like yelling in his utter astonishment. + +For President Bascomb, of the Melliston Company, now stood before them. +After a glance about Mr. Bascomb walked slowly up and down, as though he +were waiting for some one. + +Dick, of course, did not know Mr. Bascomb. However, as Tom kept silent +the young soldier did the same. + +"What on earth can Bascomb be doing here?" Tom wondered. "Is he, too, one +of the conspirators? It is unbelievable! Yet with what speed he obeyed +Evarts's summons to come and bail him out! It makes me feel like a sneak +to be here spying on the president of the company that employs me---and yet +there's something here that certainly must be looked into!" + +Fifteen minutes more dragged by, with Mr. Bascomb walking impatiently back +and forth, occasionally heaving a deep sigh or catching at his breath. + +"Our worthy president is much excited, at any rate," Reade said to himself. + +Finally steps were heard, both by Bascomb and by the pair who watched him. +Then another man came upon the scene. + +"Evarts, why on earth did you send for me?" demanded Mr. Bascomb, as the +discharged foreman came up. + +"Because I knew you'd be here---you don't dare do otherwise," was the +sneering reply. + +"Try not to be impudent about it," advised Mr. Bascomb mildly. "As you +may remember, I've had to stand a lot from you." + +"And not as much as you might have to stand, either, if I took it into my +head to make matters lively for you," jeered Evarts harshly. "Remember, +man, you'll do as I want you to do." + +"I'm willing to do what I can for you," replied the president. "But---" + +"Now, don't throw any of your 'buts' at me," broke in the discharged +foreman, roughly. "You failed me in one thing---you didn't make Reade take +me back on the job, as I told you to do." + +"I couldn't," pleaded Mr. Bascomb. "Prenter stood with Reade and was +against me." + +"You're the president of the company, aren't you?" Evarts demanded +sullenly. + +"Yes; but Prenter is a bigger man in the company, and he has more influence +with the board of directors. If Prenter came out against me, and persuaded +the other directors that I was a bad asset for the company, they'd act on +Prenter's suggestion and remove me from the presidency." + +"Humph!" jeered Evarts. "Then what would your directors do if they knew +that---." + +"Stop!" begged Mr. Bascomb hoarsely, "Don't say a word further, man! +Sometimes even the leaves on the trees have ears. Don't breathe a word of +what you were going to say just now." + +Even in the dark the two concealed watchers could see that Bascomb was +glancing about him nervously. + +"Now, what is up?" gasped Tom inwardly. "What part has Mr. Bascomb been +playing in this mystery that he's so afraid of having become public?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +EVARTS HEARS A NOISE + + +"I won't shut up," proclaimed Evarts. + +"I don't care who hears me." + +"But I care," protested the president, in a trembling voice. + +"Then you'll have to reward me for whatever silence you want," snarled the +wretch. + +"Is this blackmail never to cease?" groaned Mr. Bascomb. + +"Yes, when you've used me right," declared Evarts harshly. + +"Didn't I come forward promptly on your bail?" demanded Mr. Bascomb. + +"Sure, for you didn't dare do otherwise. But that only gave me liberty. +It didn't put any money in my pocket." + +"Are you going to jump your bail, and leave me to pay the bond?" asked +Bascomb. + +"Perhaps," said Evarts lightly. "You can stand losing the money." + +"I suppose so." + +"But when I jump," continued Evarts, "I'll have to stay out of the country +after that. It'll take money---and you'll have to furnish me with it." + +"How much?" + +"Well," continued the foreman, craftily, "I wouldn't leave the country with +less than enough to set me up elsewhere. I'd need---well, let me see. I +couldn't start in a new country on less than ten thousand dollars." + +"That would make fifteen thousand dollars, in all." Mr. Bascomb finished +his remark with a groan. + +"Well, what are you howling about?" demanded Evarts unfeelingly. "You've +got the money." + +"It will lower my holdings in the Melliston Company," complained Mr. +Bascomb bitterly "I'm not a rich man, and I haven't any too much stock +in the company at the present moment." + +"You'd have to sell it all out, if I gave the directors a chance to find +out that you're a jailbird---that you did time as a younger man," sneered +Evarts. + +"For goodness' sake hold your tongue, man!" gasped Mr. Bascomb in accents +of terror. + +"Just think," grinned Evarts heartlessly, "how delighted your directors +would be to know that you had done time in prison." + +"Silence, man!" implored Bascomb. "It wasn't altogether my fault, as you +know. And the governor of the state discovered that I wasn't as bad as +the jury thought me. It all came through trying to help a worthless +friend. Why, man, the governor pardoned me, when I had yet two years to +serve and restored me to liberty." + +"But you're a jailbird, just the same," jeered the discharged foreman. +"Let the directors find _that_ out, and how quickly they'd drop you from +your office!" + +Mr. Bascomb buried his face in his hands and sobbed aloud. + +"So," continued Evarts, "I'll give you forty-eight hours to raise the ten +thousand dollars---in good cash, mind you---no checks! Then I'll call on +you to hand the money over to me. If you don't, I'll write a note to the +directors, telling them to look up your name in the court records at +Logville, Minnesota. Now, do you understand?" + +"Yes," nodded Mr. Bascomb brokenly. + +"And you'll have the money?" + +"I---I'll try." + +"You'll have the money---by day after tomorrow!" + +"Yes." + +"Now clear out---fast!" + +"Eh?" inquired Mr. Bascomb, looking wildly at the wretch. + +"Get out! Go back to the hotel in Blixton, and don't try to slip away from +me at any point in the game. Start---now!" + +"Good night!" said President Bascomb in a choking voice. + +"Oh, cut out the civilities!" grunted Evarts turning on his heel. + +Mr. Bascomb then silently left the spot. His footfalls made so little +noise that their sound was soon lost to Dick and Tom. + +Evarts appeared in no hurry to leave. On the contrary he drew out a pipe, +filled it and lighted it. Then he threw himself down on the ground, +puffing slowly. + +"From the fact that he sent Mr. Bascomb away, and is himself remaining," +thought Tom Reade, "it is rather plain that this scoundrel, Evarts, is +awaiting some one else." + +The same thought had occurred to Dick Prescott, though, as they lay within +thirty feet of where Evarts reclined on the ground, the chums did not deem +it wise to exchange even whispers. + +After another half-hour Dick pressed Tom's arm. Other footsteps were now +near. Then Mr. Sambo Ebony slouched on to the scene. + +"Hullo, Tar!" was the ex-foreman's careless greeting. + +"Now, doan' get too prescrumptious wid me," warned the black man, with an +evil grin that displayed his big, white teeth. "Yo' an' me hab done been +good frien's, an' pulled togedder. But Ah want yo' to undahstan', Mr. +White Man, dat I doan' allow yo' to call me Tar Baby." + +"Oh, come, now, don't get huffy," yawned Evarts, who had not taken the +trouble to rise. "I'm not afraid of you, Tar." + +"Stop dat!" cried the black angrily. "Yo's takin' big chances, yo' is." + +"You're big and powerful, I know that," grinned Evarts. "But I have +something with me that makes me just the same size as you are, or perhaps +a little bigger. See this!" + +The ex-foreman drew from one of his pockets a formidable-looking automatic +revolver. + +"Huh!" grunted the negro, producing a similar pistol, "yo' ain' no bettah +fixed dan Ah be." + +"We're quits," laughed Evarts easily, returning his weapon to his pocket. +"Put up your rain-maker." + +"Den yo' won't call me Tar Baby no mo?" + +"No more." + +"All right, den." Ebony put up his weapon. + +"Now, what's the programme?" asked Evarts. "You've seen the leader?" + +"Yah. Ah's done see de right man. De orders am simple." + +"What are they?" + +"Misto Reade am to be killed de fust time he show himself," declared Sambo +Ebony. "He to be shot down ez soon ez Ah can lay eyes on him. Maybe Ah +have to shoot from ambush, but in any case he must be daid befo' de sun go +down to-morrow. Our big men am tired to def dat Massa Reade stop do men +from havin' a little liquor and playin' cairds evenin's." + +"Fine!" thought Tom, with a start. "If Sambo knew how close I am he'd +carry out his orders right now! He has his pistol with him." + +"An' den, if dey's any fuss made," the black went on, "Misto Hazelton, he +done gottah go nex'. Maybe Ah get cotch' w'en I do fo' Misto Reade. Ef +dat happen, den dere's anodder man ready to do fo' Misto Hazelton." + +"And maybe the second man will get caught, too," suggested Evarts. "Then +there'll be two of you with nooses around your necks." + +"We maybe get cotch', an' put in de jail," smirked Sambo Ebony, "but +doan' yo' beliebe nothin' worse happen. Dere ain' many guards at de jail, +an' do gang is on de way. De jail guards done be shot up, an' ouah folks +turn' loose. Den we all strike out fo' new place, an' begin all ober +again. Den a new gang come in heah and operate to get de money away from +de breakwatah gangs. Dere's so much money in dat camp yondah dat ouah +folks done gottah hab it ef a dozen men has to be kill'." + +"For cold-blooded, systematic villainy I believe I am listening to the +limit!" quivered Lieutenant Dick Prescott under his breath. + +"They're insane, these people," was Tom's inward comment. "Let this crowd +of scoundrels shoot up the jail guards, and do they think the citizens +would ever allow the gang to operate in camp? There'd be more likelihood +of the known members of the gang being lynched!" + +"I won't go back to jail if I can help it," laughed Evarts, speaking to +the negro. "As soon as I even up one or two grudges I'm going to slip +away." + +"Break yo' bail?" asked the negro, showing his teeth. + +"That's about the size of it," nodded Evarts. + +"Den de w'ite gemman who done fu'nish yo' bond will be feelin' bad, won't +he?" + +"Let him---he's no friend of mine," grunted the discharged foreman. + +"Maybe yo'd like de job ob tendin' to Boss Reade yo'so'f?" hinted Sambo +darkly. + +"Oh, I'm going to settle with Reade in some fashion," boasted Evarts with +a leer. "I don't know that I want to kill him. I'd rather cripple him +and let him live a life of misery." + +"Thank you!" thought Tom from his hiding place. + +"There's another chap we'll have to deal with, too, I'm thinking," Evarts +went on. "Reade and Hazelton have a friend of theirs here, and he's +likely to make some trouble for us. He's an army officer." + +"I done heah'd ob him," nodded Sambo. "We can settle wid him, too." + +"We ought to, for he helped arrest me, and he's to be a witness on the +torpedo matter." + +"W'ate's his name---de ahmy man's?" inquired Sambo. + +"Prescott. He's---" + +The speaker stopped suddenly, looking about him. + +"What was that, Tar?" Evarts demanded. + +"W'at yo' talkin' 'bout?" + +"I heard a noise, and it was right over there," replied Evarts, pointing +to where Tom and Dick lay hidden. + +"I didn't heah nuffin'." + +"I did, I tell you, and it will have to be looked into," insisted the +ex-foreman, drawing his automatic revolver. + +"Go ahaid, den," encouraged Sambo, also drawing his weapon. "Ef anybody +been a-lis'enin', den shoot him full ob holes!" + +Evarts darted at the bushes ahead of his companion. Then an exultant yell +came from him. + +"Hustle, Tar---and shoot straight! Here are the very people we want---I +caught sight of them!" + +"Den watch me!" chuckled Sambo Ebony, flourishing his weapon and dashing +forward in the tracks of Evarts. + +There was no time for the chums to rise and dart away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +MR. BASCOMB HEARS BAD NEWS + + +When Evarts used the word "people" he employed it only in a general sense. +He had seen no one but Tom Reade, but Tom was the one person in the world +whom the ex-foreman wanted most to 'see' at a disadvantage. + +"Now, I have you!" Evarts croaked hoarsely, rushing in, flourishing his +weapon, then letting the muzzle drop to the position of aim. + +Dick Prescott, unseen, stirred almost under the fellow's feet. + +Flop! Bump! Caught by the legs, by that famous football player, Dick +Prescott, Evarts simply had to go down on his back. + +In the same instant Reade leaped, then bent over the prostrate foe. + +Evarts was too much dazed to resist much. Tom snatched the revolver out +of his hand. + +Sambo, beholding this much, came to a dismayed stop for an instant. + +"Dick, it's your trade to know how to handle this tool better than I can," +Tom cried, passing the captured revolver to Prescott, who swiftly received +it as he rose. "I'm afraid," continued the young engineer, "that it's +going to be necessary to kill the negro." + +"Wow! Woof!" uttered Sambo Ebony. It didn't take that villain an instant +to decide on flight. Bending low, the black man ran off with frantic +speed. + +Dick took a step forward---only one, for Evarts furiously gripped at one +of the young army officer's ankles, bringing him down to his knees. + +"Hang you, you hound!" ground out Tom, in a rage, as he threw himself +athwart of the ex-foreman. Within the next thirty seconds Evarts received +a swift, fearful pummeling. + +"Let up, Mr. Reade! Let up!" cried the wretch. "I'll behave myself." + +"I'll wager you will," retorted the young engineer grimly, as he gripped +Evarts by the coat collar and drew him to his feet. + +Dick was up and had run ahead some distance. But the time that had been +gained for the black man had proved sufficient. Sambo, was now out of +sight, nor did he send back any sound to guide his pursuers. + +"It may have to be a long hunt for the negro," remarked Tom Reade when +Lieutenant Dick stepped back to state the case. "Stand by me and shoot +this fellow down in his tracks if he tries to get away." + +"Why, what are you going to do to me?" quaked the ex-foreman. + +"It's back to jail for yours," Tom informed him crisply. + +"Then the laugh will be on you," jeered Evarts. "I'm out on bail---all in +regular form." + +"You're not on bail on the latest charge against you---attempted murderous +assault," Reade rejoined. "Nor will any court allow you out on bail again +when Mr. Prescott and I testify to hearing you tell the negro that you +were going to jump your bail." + +"Humph! That was all a joke," blustered Evarts. + +"All right," nodded Tom. "Explain the joke to the judge, if you can find +a judge who's a good and willing listener. What you'll find, at this time, +is that a hundred thousand dollars' worth of bail won't get you out of +jail. Start along with you," Tom wound up, shaking Evarts by the arm that +he gripped. "If this sneak tries to get away, Dick, bring him down with a +bullet." + +"I'm ready enough to do it," Prescott agreed. + +A sudden great change came over the ex-foreman. At first he threatened. +Then he begged to be turned loose, promising nothing but the best behavior +in the future. + +"Stop all your nonsense," ordered Reade finally. "There's only one proper +place on earth for you, Evarts, and that's behind the bars. Now, move +right along, or I'll give you a worse walloping every time you stop or +argue." + +Finding that nothing would avail with these determined captors the +ex-foreman relapsed into sulks. However, he kept walking straight ahead, +obeying every order addressed to him. + +Tom stopped briefly at the cottage. Mr. Prenter was not there, and +Harry Hazelton had turned in. Nicolas was lying on a blanket on the +porch. + +"You'll have to keep awake until I get back, anyway, Nicolas, and keep +your eyes open," Tom informed the Mexican. "Sambo is at large again, and +I'm afraid he may turn up here." + +"I shall know how to take care of him, Senor," grinned the Mexican holding +up his right forefinger. + +"That wouldn't help you, this time," Tom retorted dryly. "Mr. Sambo Ebony +has a revolver with him. Don't let him get a shot at you; he'd be only +too glad to even the score. Now, Dick, I guess we'd better get Evarts over +to the jail." + +Away started the chums and their prisoner while Nicolas went inside to +warn Harry. + +Not so very much later Tom and Dick turned Evarts over to the police in +Blixton. Evarts was locked up on the new charge. The revolver taken from +him was turned over to the police as evidence. The chums also gave their +information that they had overheard the ex-foreman tell the negro that he +intended to jump bail. But the greatest of all was the news of the plot to +rescue the gambler prisoners now in jail. + +Then the chums started back to camp. + +"I noticed," said Lieutenant Prescott, in a low tone, "that you didn't +mention the conversation between Bascomb and Evarts." + +"I hadn't any right to," Tom said simply. "If Mr. Bascomb once had trouble +in his life, but is living honestly now, it would be criminal of me to +expose such a secret that he wouldn't want known. Mr. Bascomb's past is +none of my business." + +"I'm mighty glad to hear you talk that way about it," said Prescott, +resting a hand on Reade's shoulder. + +"Why?" demanded Tom rather bluntly. "Did you think that I could feel any +other way about it?" + +"But Evarts is pretty sure to talk a lot about Bascomb, now," hinted the +young army officer. + +"If he does," sighed Tom, "I don't know that I can think of any way to +stop the fellow." + +"Then you don't believe that Mr. Bascomb's evil record of past years +affects his honesty now?" Dick went on after a long pause. + +"I don't believe it," Tom answered with unusual emphasis. "If I did it +would be as much as if I said that a fellow who once makes a wrong step +must never hope to get back into the right path again. Mr. Prenter, I am +certain, is an honest man and an unusually keen one. He is satisfied to +trust Mr. Bascomb as president of the company. But, if Evarts is some +sort of family connection of Bascomb's, and if he has often threatened to +tell all about Mr. Bascomb's past history, you can imagine the terror that +poor Mr. Bascomb has lived in for years." + +"If I were in Bascomb's place," Dick declared positively, "I would go +before the board of directors and tell them the whole story. Then no one +else could ever hold any power over me." + +"I guess that's the way all of us think we would act if we'd meet a +blackmailer," nodded Reade. "Yet I guess most of the victims, when there's +a sad, true story that could be told about them, pay the blackmailer and +so secure silence." + +"Which may be another way," mused the young army officer, "of saying that +most men are cowards. Or, maybe, it's another way, after all, of saying +that the man who does anything very wrong or crooked is generally such a +coward at heart that he'll spend his savings in keeping his secret from the +world." + +"Yet Bascomb must have shown considerable bravery in meeting Evarts's +demands," suddenly suggested Reade. "Otherwise, Mr. Bascomb would now be +a poor man and Evarts would have spent all of Bascomb's money. Heretofore, +I imagine, Evarts hasn't been able to blackmail his relative for anything +much more substantial than a good job. I hear that Evarts has been drawing +good pay from the Melliston Company for something more than four +years---and Evarts isn't a very useful man, at that." + +"Then, after four years of easy berths, no wonder Evarts hates you, Tom, +for having bounced him out," smiled Dick Prescott. + +"I'm afraid I'm going to do worse than bounce the fellow out of a job," +sighed Reade. "I'm afraid I've helped head him for prison for a term of +a good many long years." + +"Evarts did that much for himself," Prescott argued. "I wouldn't waste +much worry over the fellow." + +"I suppose it's my way to worry over a dog with a sore paw," answered Reade +thoughtfully, "Certainly Evarts has done some mean things against me, and +without any just cause; but I don't like the thought of his having to be +locked up, away from sunlight, joy and life, for so many years as I'm +afraid are coming to him." + +Arrived at camp, Tom found Mr. Bascomb walking back and forth on the porch +of the engineers' house. + +"You're up late, sir," was Tom's friendly greeting to the president. + +"Yes, Reade; I can't sleep to-night," said Mr. Bascomb wearily. "I came +over here to talk with Prenter. Where is he?" + +"Asleep, I imagine, sir," Tom answered. + +"Wrong," replied President Bascomb. "I've already been inside, but +Prenter isn't in the house." + +"Then perhaps he thought it too lively around here," laughed Reade, "and +went over to Blixton to sleep at the hotel." + +Mr. Bascomb didn't reply to this, but puffed hard at the black cigar he +was smoking and sending up clouds of smoke. + +But the president of the Melliston Company became instantly more distracted +when Tom Reade began an account of the capture of Evarts, and his jailing, +and the escape of Mr. Sambo Ebony. + +Presently Bascomb began to puff harder than ever at his cigar. + +"Reade," he finally blurted out, "how long were you hiding there before +Evarts found you there?" + +"Some little time," Tom admitted vaguely. + +More clouds of cigar smoke ascended; then, shaking, and his face a sickly +white and green, the president inquired: + +"Reade, were you there---you and Mr. Prescott---at the time when I talked +with Evarts on that very spot to-night?" + +There was no use in evading the question, so engineer Reade answered in a +straightforward manner: + +"Yes, sir. Mr. Prescott and I were there." + +"Then---then---y-y-you heard all of my talk with Evarts?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Bascomb's teeth began to chatter so that he was forced to steady his jaws. +Tom and Dick looked aside, pitying the man for his evident anguish of mind. + +At last the president steadied himself enough to speak. + +"Reade, I know I haven't been a very good friend of yours, and I even +tried to work you out of this contract altogether. Now, you know my +secret, and I'm in your power!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +EBONY SAYS "THUMBS UP" + + +Tom Reade stared in frank amazement at the trembling man. + +"Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Bascomb?" demanded the young engineer +bluntly. + +"Insult you? The fates forbid," replied Bascomb with a sickly grin. +"Reade, I don't dare offend you in any way." + +"But you do insult me, sir, in believing that it would be possible for me +to make any hostile use of whatever unpleasant knowledge I may possess +against you." + +"Do you mean to say that you wouldn't use the knowledge?" demanded the +president of the Melliston Company. + +"You're insulting me again, sir. Perhaps you are to be pardoned, Mr. +Bascomb. You have been so long dancing to the fiddling of an Evarts that +you don't realize how impossible it is for a gentleman to do a dishonorable +thing." + +"Then---then I---I can rely upon your silence?" demanded Mr. Bascomb, +eagerly. + +"I am sorry, sir, to think that you even think it necessary to ask me such +a question," rejoined Reade gravely. + +"Reade! Reade! You can't imagine how grateful you'll find me if I really +can rely upon you to forget what you overheard to-night!" cried the +humiliated man. "And you, Mr. Prescott---may I depend upon you, also, +to preserve silence?" + +"I'm afraid, sir, you're putting me in Reade's class as an insulted man," +Dick smiled grimly. "My friend, the people of this country, in the person +of their President, have issued to me a commission certifying that I am +worthy to wear the shoulder-straps of an army officer. The shoulder-straps +stand for the strictest sense of honor in all things. If I depart, ever +so little, from the laws of honor, I prove my unfitness to wear +shoulder-straps. Have I answered you." + +There was silence for a few moments. Then, Mr. Bascomb, having smoked his +cigar out, tossed the butt away. + +"I'd like to offer you a little advice, Mr. Bascomb, if you won't think +I'm too forward." + +"What is it?" asked the president, turning briskly upon the young chief +engineer. + +"Just as long as you both live, Mr. Bascomb, Evarts is likely to bother +you, in one way or another. Even if he goes to prison himself he'll find +a way to bother you from the other side of the grated door. Mr. Bascomb, +why don't you yourself disclose this little affair in your past history +to the board of directors? Then it would be past any blackmailer's power +to harm you." + +"I could tell the directors in only one way," Mr. Bascomb answered, his +face growing sallow. "That would be to tell my story and hand in my +resignation in the same breath. Reade, you don't realize how much the +presidency of the Melliston Company means to me! To resign, or to be +kicked out, would end my career in the business world." + +In the near darkness a step sounded on the gravel. Then Mr. Prenter came +briskly forward. + +"Bascomb," said the treasurer of the company, "Reade's advice was good, +though wholly unnecessary. There is no need to tell the directors the +story of your past misfortune. Most of them know it already." + +The president's face grew grayish as he listened in torment. + +"Moreover," Mr. Prenter continued, "most of us have known all about the +matter since just before you were elected president." + +"And yet you allowed me to be elected!" cried Mr. Bascomb hoarsely. + +"Yes; because we looked up your life and your conduct since---well, ever +since you left the past behind and came out into business life again. +Our investigation showed that you had been living for years as an honest +man. The rest of us on the board are men---or think we are---and we voted, +informally, not to allow one misstep of yours to outweigh years of the most +upright living since." + +"Knowing it all, you elected me to be president of the company!" gasped +Mr. Bascomb, as though he could not believe his ears or his senses. + +"Now, let us hear no more about it," urged Mr. Prenter, cordially. "If I +listened just now---if I played the part of the eavesdropper, allow me to +explain my conduct by saying that I, too, was present to-night when you +talked with Evarts. I heard, and I knew that Reade and his friend heard. +I listened, just now, in order that I might make sure that Thomas Reade, +engineer, is a man of honor at all times. And now, let no one say a word +more." + +Some one else was coming. All on the porch turned and waited to see who it +was. Out of the shadows came a hang-dog looking sort of fellow. + +"Is Mr. Bascomb here?" asked the newcomer. + +"I am Mr. Bascomb," spoke the president. + +"Here's a note for you," said the man, handing over an envelope. + +Tom stepped inside, got a lantern and lighted it, placing it upon the porch +table. With the aid of this illumination Mr. Bascomb read the brief note +directed to him. + +"It's from Evarts," said the president, looking up with a quiet laugh. +"He commands me to come to him at once, in his cell, and to arrange some +way of getting out. My man," turning to the messenger, "are you going back +to Evarts?" + +"Yes," nodded the messenger, shifting his weight from one foot to another. + +"Go back to Evarts, then, and tell him that he'll have to threaten some one +else this time. Tell him that I am through with him." + +"Huh!" growled the hang-dog messenger. "I believe Evarts said that, if old +Bascomb wasn't quick, he'd make trouble for some one." + +"Tell Evarts," said Mr. Prenter, "that he can't make trouble for any one +but himself, and that he had better save his breath for the next time he +needs it." + +"Evarts will be awful mad, if I go back to him with any talk like that," +insinuated the messenger meaningly. + +"See here, fellow," interjected. Tom Reade, stepping forward quickly, "I'm +rather tired and out of condition to-night, but if you don't leave here as +fast as you can go, I'll kick you every step of the way for the first +half-mile back to Blixton! Do you think you understand me?" + +"I---I reckon I do," admitted the fellow. + +"Then start before you tempt my right foot! I'll give you five seconds +to get off." + +There could be no mistaking that order. The messenger started off, nor +did he glance backward as long as he was in sight. + +"You see how easily a chap like Evarts can be disposed of," smiled Mr. +Prenter. + +"He'll send back again for another try, within an hour," prophesied Mr. +Bascomb, wearily. + +"If he does," laughed Dick Prescott, shortly, "his second appeal won't +come by the same messenger." + +"Then you were near us, Mr. Prenter, when Evarts and the negro charged us?" +Tom inquired. + +"I was," smiled the treasurer. "That convicts me of cowardice, doesn't it, +in not having come to your aid at the moment of attack? I wasn't quite as +big a coward as I would seem, though. The truth is, I was behind you. Had +I jumped in in that exciting moment, you would have thought other enemies +were attacking from behind. You would have been confused and would have +lost the fight." + +"By Jove, sir, but that was quick thinking and shrewdness on your part!" +ejaculated Dick Prescott. + +"Then you acquit me of cowardice?" + +"No," smiled the young army officer, "for I hadn't thought of accusing you +of lack of courage." + +"I am glad you didn't," sighed the treasurer. "I would rather be suspected +of almost anything than of lacking manly courage. Afterwards I didn't make +my presence known to you, for, at that time, I didn't want you to know that +I had overheard a certain conversation." + +"My cowardice has made a dreadful mess of things in a lot of ways, hasn't +it?" demanded Mr. Bascomb bitterly. + +"That's all past now, so it doesn't matter," spoke up Tom Reade. "We have +just one move more to make in this baffling game, and then I fancy we shall +have won. When Mr. Sambo Ebony, as I have nicknamed him, is safely jailed +I think we shall find ourselves undisturbed in the future. We shall then +be permitted to go ahead and finish the million-dollar breakwater as a work +and a triumph of peace." + +"Every time that one of us opens his mouth," laughed Mr. Prenter, "I am +expecting to hear a big bang down by the breakwater to punctuate the +speaker's sentence. I wonder whether the scoundrels back of Sambo have +any more novel ways for setting off their big firecrackers around our +wall?" + +"It might not be a bad idea for me to get out on the watch again," Tom +suggested, rising. "If I get in more trouble than I can handle I'll just +yell 'Mr. Prenter,' for I shall know that he'll be within easy hearing +distance." + +The treasurer laughed, as he, too, rose. + +"My being so near you before, Reade, was just accident. I was prowling +about on my own account, when you and your army friend passed me in the +deep woods. I had an idea that you were out for some definite purpose, +and so I just trailed along at your rear in order to be near any excitement +that you might turn up." + +"And I suppose you're going to follow us this time, too," smiled Tom Reade. + +"Prenter," suggested the president of the company, "what do you say if you +and I prowl in some other direction? I've been such a miserable coward all +through this affair that now I'd like to go with you. If we run into any +trouble I'll try to show you that I'm not all coward." + +"Come along, Bascomb," agreed the treasurer cordially. "Reade, I give you +my word that we won't intentionally follow on your trail." + +At a nod from Tom, Dick was at his side. The two high school chums started +off with brisk steps. + +"Which way are you going?" whispered Dick. + +"Let's go down to the breakwater," suggested Tom. "I really ought to visit +it once in the night, despite the fact that Corbett is a wholly reliable +foreman, and that he has his own pick of workmen on patrol duty there." + +As the chums stepped out from under the trees in full view of the +breakwater site they beheld the lanterns of the patrol, like so many +fireflies, twinkling and bobbing here and there along the narrow-topped +retaining wall. + +Tom and Dick went out on the wall until they encountered the first workman +on patrol. Tom took this man's lantern and signaled the motor boat as it +stood in shore. + +"All going right, Corbett?" the young engineer hailed, as soon as the +"Morton" had come up alongside. + +"As far as I can see, Mr. Reade, there's not a sign of the enemy to-night. +But of course you know, sir, that we've been just as sure on other nights, +only to have a large part of the wall blown clean out of the water." + +"All I can say," Tom nodded, "is to go on keeping your eyes and ears open." + +"Yes, sir; you may be sure I'll do that," nodded the foreman. + +Then Reade and his army chum returned to the shore. + +"I guess it will be a wholly blind hunt," Tom laughed, "but I've a notion +for returning to the spot where we encountered Sambo Ebony before this +night." + +After they had left the beach well behind, the chums strolled in under the +trees of a rather sparse grove. + +Well in toward the center of the grove stood one tree larger than the rest. + +From behind this Sambo Ebony swiftly appeared, just at the right instant +for surprise. In each hand the negro held a huge automatic revolver. + +"Gemmen," chuckled the negro coolly, "Ah jess be nacherally obliged to yo' +both if yo'll stick yo' hands ez high up in de air ez yo' can h'ist 'em. +It am a long worm dat nebber turns, an' Ah'se done reckon dat Ah'se de +tu'ning worm to-night! Thumbs up, gemmen!" + +Despite Sambo's bantering tone there could be no doubt that to fail to obey +him would be to invite a swift fusillade. + +Reluctantly Tom Reade thrust his hands up skyward. Nor did Dick Prescott +hesitate to follow so prompt an example. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +CONCLUSION + + +"Now Ah reckon Ah'se done got yo'," laughed the big negro, insolently. "It +am a question ob w'ich one Ah wantah pick off fust!" + +In his wicked joy over having both the young engineer and the army officer +wholly at his mercy Sambo, his mouth open and his massive teeth showing +white in his grin, advanced nearer. + +Yet he did not fail to keep each of his enemies covered. He was watching +most alertly for any sign of rebellion on the part of his victims. + +Nor was there any doubt in the mind of either young man that the black, +after playing with them, meant to dispose of them as his possession of +pistols indicated. + +He would torment them first, then ruthlessly "shoot them up." + +"How long are we to keep our hands up?" asked Tom banteringly. + +It would be foolish to say that Reade was not afraid, but he was determined +to keep Ebony from discovering the fact. + +"Yo's to keep yo' hands up longer dan yo' can keep yo' moufs shut!" scowled +the black man, his ugly streak showing once more. + +"It makes me think of the way we used to play football," laughed Reade, +though there was not much mirth in his chuckle. + +"Shut yo' mouf, or Ah done gib yo' plenty to think erbout!" ordered Sambo +angrily. + +That word "football" set Dick Prescott to tingling. He knew there was some +hidden meaning in what Tom had said. + +"Are you trying to signal us, Sambo?" queried the army officer. + +That word "signal" was intended only for Tom's ear, for Lieutenant Prescott +was beginning to guess at the truth. + +"On the gridiron, on the gridiron!" hummed Tom, audibly, as he tried +clumsily to fit the words to the refrain of a popular song. + +Dick Prescott was "getting warm" on the scent of the hidden meaning. + +"Shut yo' mouf!" gruffly commanded the lack. "Ah doan' wantah tell yo' dat +again, neider." + +"Right foot---high foot!" chanted Tom. + +Mentally Dick Prescott jumped as though he had been shot. "Right +foot---high foot" had been one of their old kicking signals on the Gridley +High School eleven! + +Lieutenant Dick Prescott fairly throbbed as he now understood the covered +signal. + +"Now!" left Reade's lips with explosive energy, though the word was +low-spoken. + +At "right foot---high foot" and "now" each youth suddenly shot his right +foot up into the air. + +Tom's landed against Sambo's right wrist, kicking the automatic revolver +completely out of the negro's hands. + +Dick's kick landed against the black man's left wrist. The pistol held +in Sambo's left hand was discharged, though the muzzle had been driven up +at such an angle that the bullet passed harmlessly over Prescott's head. + +In a twinkling Ebony had been disarmed. + +Darting low, Tom grappled with the negro's legs. Then Reade rose swiftly, +toppling Sambo over backward. + +Dick Prescott bounded upon the prostrate foe, beating him with both fists. +Tom also threw himself into the melee. + +While the black might have thrashed either youth alone he was not equal to +handling both at the same time. + +"I've got him, now, and he'll behave, I guess," panted Tom Reade, at last. +"Slip off, Dick, and gather in the pistols." + +As Prescott did so Sambo made the last few efforts of which he was capable. +He had been hammered so hard, however, that Tom did not have extreme +difficulty in holding him down. + +"Now, lie still and take orders," warned Dick, pressing one of the pistols +against the black man's temple, "or I'll get excited and send you out of +this world for keeps!" + +Sambo Ebony thereupon dropped into sullen muttering, but did not offer to +resist. Prescott, as a soldier, had a businesslike way of handling weapons +that cowed the black man. + +Tom got up leisurely from the prostrate foe. + +"Now, you can stand a little farther off, Dick," he suggested, "and then +the fellow won't get a chance to tip you over with any trick. If he tries +to get up before he's told you can easily bring him to earth again, for +you've been taught the exact use of firearms." + +"Good idea," nodded Lieutenant Prescott, backing away a few feet. "Are you +going to run for assistance now, Tom?" + +"No," retorted Reade. "You're going to shoot for it." + +"Eh?" + +"Fire a shot into the air from each revolver. That, with the accidental +discharge of a moment go, will show any listener that there's trouble going +on over here. I miss my guess if the shots don't bring help very shortly." + +Bang! Bang! + +Nor was Reade's guess a wrong one. Not much time passed before steps were +heard hurrying in their direction. + +"Here! This way!" summoned Tom. + +"Are you hurt?" sounded Mr. Prenter's voice. + +"No; but we have Sambo Ebony here, and he's going to be hurt if he tries +to stir." + +President and treasurer of the Melliston Company raced to the spot. Barely +sixty seconds afterward Foreman Corbett, with four negroes and one Italian +laborer, also came up. + +"Corbett, you have the handcuffs I gave you the other night, haven't you?" +Tom asked. + +"Yes, sir. Here they are." + +Tom took the steel bracelets, ordering Mr. Sambo Ebony to turn over and +lie face downward, with his hands behind his back. Then the handcuffs were +slipped over the black wrists. + +"Now, Sambo," called Tom laughingly, "we'll set you on your feet and +whistle the rogues' march for you all the way." + +"Yah, yah, yah!" jeered one of the negroes who had come up with Foreman +Corbett, as he gazed contemptuously up and down the bulky figure of Mr. +Ebony. "Yo' done been tellin' us 'spectable cullud fo'ks dat de great way +to injye life was to be tough an' smaht, lak yo'se'f. How ye' feel erbout +it now? Doan' yo' wish yo' been mo' 'spectable yo'se'f? Doan' ye' done +wish dat ye' had been to camp-meeting a few times in yo' life? Doan' yo' +wish ye' been honest most er de time, an' been a hahd-wo'kin', +pay-ye'-bills niggah lak some ob de rest oh us? Yo' fool lump er tar, +yo' boun' ter go de way ob all de wicked---down to ye' grave in misery an' +sorrow. It's de way oh all ob yo' lazy, ugly, wuthless kind!" + +"I've heard philosophers talk," laughed Dick, in an aside to Tom Reade, +"but I can't say that I ever yet listened to a trained philosopher who had +the truth of life down any more pat than the negro workman who just now +gave his views." + +"On all matters of good behavior wise men of all degrees hold about the +same views," nodded Reade, "even though they may express their thoughts in +differing grades of speech. This good negro knows just where the bad negro +has failed in life." + +Mr. Sambo Ebony was marched off to jail. Even up to the minute when he +was sentenced to twenty years' imprisonment the big black stubbornly +refused to give his real name. He was therefore taken away to prison +under the name "Sambo Ebony." + +Evarts got off with eight years and four months in prison. He is still +serving that sentence. + +Hawkins and his crew of gamblers and bootleggers were sentenced to two +years apiece, as only misdemeanor charges could be preferred against them. + +From the foregoing it will be inferred that the proposed jail delivery by +other members of the gang from elsewhere did not come off according to +plan. The truth was that the citizens of Blixton, when appealed to, +organized a strong guard which was thrown around the jail. Doubtless the +gang-members were warned in time, and so did not attempt to commit +wholesale suicide by running against a citizens' posse. + +Mr. Bascomb is still president of the Melliston Company, and he is holding +up his head. No further fear of blackmailers oppresses him. + +Dick Prescott was able to remain several days longer---long enough, in +fact, to see the more substantial structure of the million-dollar +breakwater begin to go up just inside the completed retaining wall. + +Then Lieutenant Dick was obliged to resume his journey on to Fort Clowdry, +Colorado. What happened to Prescott, after joining the army as an officer, +is told in "_Uncle Sam's Boys on Field Duty_," the second volume in the +"_Boys of the Army Series_." + +Though Harry Hazelton was disappointed in missing some of the excitement at +Blixton, he had no occasion to complain in that respect when he and Tom +entered upon the next great undertaking of the young engineer pair. + +After the disappearance of the big black from the scene there was no +further trouble at the breakwater. + +Blixton is now an important though artificial harbor. With the completion +of the breakwater, and the building of a lighthouse, the next work +undertaken was the building of stone docks at which the steamships of the +Melliston Line now dock. + +The next adventures that befell Tom and Harry were destined to be the most +wonderful and exciting of all. These adventures must be reserved for +complete telling in the next volume in this series, which is published +under the title, "_The Young Engineers In The Lead; Or, The stroke That +Made Them Masters of Their Field_." + +It is a story of almost incredible efforts, backed by strong ambition, of +two American youths who had both the desire and the will to toil +unceasingly and at last reach their goal. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Young Engineers on the Gulf +by H. 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