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Page 16
"We'll run him off the desert, or bury him there!" came the snarling
response.
"I can't believe that boy, Reade, will ever succeed in laying the
railroad tracks across the Man-killer," smiled Jim Duff darkly within
himself.
CHAPTER IV
SOMEBODY STIRS THE MUD
The next morning only a few of the men, some of those who had refused to
open bank accounts, failed to show up at the railroad camp.
"There is really nothing to do this morning," Tom remarked to
Superintendent Hawkins. "However, I think you had better dock the
missing men for time off. If you find that any missing man has been
gone on a proper errand of rest or enjoyment, and has not been making a
beast of himself, you can restore his docked pay on the lists."
"That's a very good idea," nodded Hawkins. "It always angers me to see
these poor, hardworking fellows go away and make fools of themselves
just as soon as they get a bit of pay in their pockets. Still, you
can't change the whole face of human nature, Mr. Reade."
"I don't expect to do so," smiled Tom. "Yet, if we can get a hundred or
two in this outfit to take a sensible view of pay day, and can drill it
into them so that it will stick, there will be just that number of
happier men in the world. How long have you been in this work on the
frontier, Mr. Hawkins?"
"About twenty years, sir."
"Then it must have angered you, many a time, to see the vultures and the
parasites fattening on the men who do the real work in life."
"It has," nodded the superintendent. "However, I haven't your gift with
the tongue, Mr. Reade, and I've never been able to lead men into the
right path as you did yesterday."
Over in the little village of tents where the idle workmen sat through
the forenoon there was some restlessness. These men knew that there was
nothing for them to do until the construction material arrived, and that
they were required only to report in order to keep themselves on the
time sheets. Having reported to their foremen and the checkers, they
were quite at liberty to go over into Paloma or elsewhere. A few of
them had gone. Some others had an uneasy feeling that they wouldn't like
to face the contempt in the eyes of the young chief engineer if he
happened to see them going away from camp.
"It's none of the business of that chap Reade," growled one of the
workmen.
"Of course it isn't," spoke up another. "He talked to us straight
yesterday, however, and showed us that it was our own business to keep
out of the tough places in Paloma. I've worked under these engineers
for years, and I never before knew one of them to care whether I had a
hundred dollars or an empty stomach. Boys, I tell you, Reade, has the
right stuff in him, if he is only a youngster. He knows the enemies he
has made over in Paloma, and he understands the risks be has been taking
in making such enemies. He proved to us that he can stand that sort of
thing and be our friend. Look at this thing, will you?"
With something of a look of wonder the speaker drew out the bankbook
that he had acquired the afternoon before.
"I've got forty dollars in bank," he continued, in something of a tone
of awe. "Forty friends of mine that I've put away to work and do good
things for me! If I don't touch this money for some years then I'll
find that this money has grown to be a lot more than forty dollars!"
"Or else you'll find that some bank clerk is up in Canada spending it,"
jeered a companion.
"I don't care what the clerk does. The bank will be still good for the
money. Joe, you read the papers as often as any come into camp."
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