|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 14
Foreman Rivers speedily had his fifty men, together, none of whom were
Mexicans.
"Touch a single guy-rope at your peril!" warned Jim Duff menacingly, but
big Superintendent Hawkins seized the gambler by the shoulders, gently,
though, firmly, removing him from the vicinity of the tents.
All in a flash the work was done. Canvas and poles were loaded on to
the wagons. Mr. Rivers's men had entered so thoroughly into the spirit
of the thing that, they forced the drivers to start off, and the
gambler's men to follow.
Goaded to the last ditch of desperation, Jim Duff now strode over to
where Tom stood. No one opposed him, nor did Reade's smile fail.
"Boy, you've had your laugh, just now," announced the gambler, in his
most threatening, tone. "It will be your last laugh."
"Oh, I hope not," drawled Tom.
"You will know more within twenty-four hours. You have treated me, with
your own crowd about you, like a dog."
"You're wrong again," laughed Tom.. "Jim is fond of dogs. They are
fine fellows."
"You may laugh as much as you want, just now," jeered Jim Duff. "You've
made an enemy, and one of the worst in Arizona! I won't waste any more
talk on you--except to warn you."
"Warn me? About what?" asked Tom curiously.
Instead of answering, Jim Duff turned on his heel, stalking off with a
majesty that, somehow, looked sadly damaged.
"He has warned you," murmured Superintendent Hawkins in an undertone.
"That is your hint that Duff will fight you to the death at the first
opportunity."
"May it be long in coming!" uttered Tom devoutly.
Then, as he turned about and saw scores of laborers coming in his
direction, Reade remembered what he wished to do.
"Mr. Hawkins," he continued, turning toward the superintendent, "I see
that Mr. Payson's gang is coming in from work. As all our men are now
idle, I wish you would direct the foremen to see that all hands assemble
here. I have something to say to them."
Within ten minutes the five hundred laborers and mechanics had been
gathered in a compact crowd. Now that the excitement of hustling the
gambler off the scene had died away, many of the men were sorry that
they had not made their disapproval plainer. Though Tom Reade plainly
understood the mood of the men, he mounted a barrel, holding up both
hands as a sign for silence.
"Now, men," he began, "you all know that the pay train is due here this
afternoon. You are all eager to get your money--for what? It is a
strange fact that gold is the carrion that draws all of the vultures. A
few minutes ago you saw one of the vultures here, preparing to get his
supposed share of your money away from you. Does Jim Duff care a hang
about any of you? Do any of you care anything whatever for Jim Duff?
Then why should you be so eager to get into one of his tents and let him
take your money away from you?
"It is true that, once in a while, a solitary player gets a few dollars
away from a gambler. Yet, in the end, the gambler has every dollar of
the crowd that patronizes him. You men have been out in the hot sun for
weeks, working hard to earn the money that the pay train is bringing
you. Has Jim Duff done any work in the last few weeks? While you men
have been toiling and sweating, what has Duff been doing? Hasn't he
been going around wearing the clothes and the air of a gentleman, while
you men have been giving all but your lives for your dollars, while you
have been denied most of the comforts of living. Hasn't Duff been up at
the Mansion House, living on the fat of the land and smiling to himself
every time he thought of you men, who would be ready to hand him all of
your money as soon as it came to you? Is the gambler, who grows fat on
the toil of others, but never toils himself, any better than the vulture
that feeds upon the animals killed by others? Isn't the gambler a
parasite, pure and simple? On whose lifeblood does the gambler feed,
unless it's on yours?"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|