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Page 70
"I see one gentleman here whom I had expected to find," remarked Tom
quietly.
"Me?" hinted Duff.
"Well, yes; you, for one, but I refer to that excellent host, Mr. Ashby,
of the Mansion House."
With a start George Ashby turned on Reade, coming closer and grinning
ferociously into the face of the young chief engineer. Tom, however,
managed to muster a smile as he went on:
"How do you do, Mr. Ashby? Your performance of this afternoon mystified
me a good deal. I had never expected to find myself on a shooting
acquaintance with you."
Three or four of the rascals chuckled at this way of putting it, but
Proprietor Ashby snarled like a wild animal.
"As for you, Mr. Duff," Reade resumed, "I confess that I have never been
able to understand you."
"You will to-night," smiled Duff, with bland ferocity. "I can promise
you, as a gambler, that I am going to give you a square deal."
"Fine!" glowed Tom. "I am delighted to hear that you have reformed,
then."
This' time there was a general laugh. Jim Duff flushed angrily.
"Reade, what you never understood about me is that I belong to the ranks
of the square gamblers."
"I didn't believe there were any such gamblers," Tom replied in a voice
of surprise. "It is still hard for me to believe. How can any man be
square and honorable when he won't work, but fattens on the earnings of
others? Has that idea any connection with honor?"
"Stop that line of talk, you young hound!" ordered Duff, striding up to
this bold young enemy. All the slight veneer of polish that Duff
usually affected had vanished now. His eyes blazed with rage as he
doubled his fist and struck Reade full in the face, knocking him down.
One of the bystanders jerked Tom to his feet.
"Speaking of the square deal," Tom observed, "I now insist upon it.
Duff, you knocked me down when my hands were tied. If you're not a
coward I request that you order my hands freed--and then repeat your
blow if you dare."
"You'll stay tied," retorted Duff grimly.
"I knew it," sighed Reade. "What's the use of talking about honor and
square dealing where a gambler is concerned? Loaded dice, marked cards
or tying a man before you dare to hit him--it's all the same to your
kind."
"Shut up that talk, you hound, or I'll pound you stiff before we go on
with what's been arranged for you!" raged the gambler, shaking his
clenched fist in the face of the young engineer.
"Go slowly, Jim," advised one of the men present. "Of course we know
what we're to do to this young pup, and we all know what he thinks of
you. But some of the rest of us have different ideas as to how a
helpless enemy ought to be treated."
"You, Rafe Bodson!" snarled Duff, turning on the last speaker. "Are you
one of us? Do you belong to our side, or are you a spy for the other
crowd?"
"Got your gun with you, Duff?" inquired Bodson calmly.
"Yes," snapped the gambler.
"Get it out in your hand, then, before, you talk to me any more in that
fashion."
"He won't," mocked Tom. "He doesn't dare, Bodson. Your hands are not
tied."
"Cut it out, Rafe! Quit it!" ordered one of the other men in the crowd.
"We won't let this tenderfoot split our ranks. You're one of us, and
you'll stand by us."
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