“Who's your foreman?” asked the checker, a young fellow named Royal
“Payson--if it's any of your business.” replied the workman roughly.
The others, seeing him take this attitude, were willing to let him talk
for all. Superintendent Hawkins had rounded up the foremen, and now sent
them to the checker's hut to deal with the men.
“Some of you are my men,” said Payson, looking the lot over. “You're
discharged.”
“What's that?” roared the same indignant spokesman, a big, bull-necked,
red-faced fellow.
“Discharged,” said Payson briefly. “All of you who belong to my gang.
Checker, I'll call their names off to you.”
While Payson, and then the other foremen, were calling the names, the
workmen stood by in sullen silence. When the last name had been entered
the same bull-necked spokesman flared up again.
“Have we no rights?” he demanded. “Is there no such thing as the right
of appeal in this camp, or are we under a lot of domineering, petty
tyrants like you?”
“I'm a poor specimen of tyrant,”' laughed Payson good-naturedly. “All
I'm doing, Bellas, is following orders. Any man who feels that he was
justified in being away, and that he ought to be kept on the pay rolls
here, may make his appeal to Mr. Hawkins, Mr. Hazelton or Mr. Reade.”
“I'll see Reade!” announced Bellas stiffly. “That youngster is doing all
the dirty work here. I'll go to him straight.”
“I'll take you over to his office,” nodded Foreman Payson.
“I'm going, too,” announced another workman.
“So'm I,” added another.
“One at a time, men,” advised Payson. “I think Bellas feels that he's
capable of talking for all of you.”
The other foremen restrained the crowd, while Mr. Payson led Bellas over
to the headquarters shack.
Tom looked up from a handful of old letters as the two men entered.
“See here, you!” was Bellas's form of greeting.
“Try it again,” smiled Tom pleasantly.
“You're the man I want to talk to,” Bellas snarled. “What do you mean
by--”
“What's your name?” asked Reade quickly.
“None of your--”
“We can never do business on that kind of courtesy,” smiled Reade. “Mr.
Payson, show the man out and let him come back when he's cooler.”
“There isn't anyone here who can show me out!” blustered Bellas,
swinging his big arms and causing the heavy muscles to stand out.
“If you don't care to behave in a businesslike way, and talk like a man,
we'll do our best to show you out,” Tom retorted, still with a pleasant
smile. “What are you here for, anyway?”
“Why have I been fired?” roared Bellas.
“Can't you guess?” queried Tom.
“Was it for going to town and being away all night?”
“Yes, and also for not being on hand this morning.”
“There wasn't any work to do,” growled Bellas.
“You expected to be paid for your time, and you should have been in
camp, as your time belonged to the railroad by, right of purchase.
Bellas, you have been drinking over in town, haven't you?”
“If I have, it's my own business. I'm no slave.”
“Ben gambling, too?”
“None of your--”
“You're in error,” Tom answered pleasantly, though firmly. “The gamblers
over in Paloma are leagued with the dive keepers against us, Bellas. You
know what they did out at the big sink of the Man-killer last night. Any
man who goes away from camp and 'enjoys' himself for hours among those
who are trying to put us out of business shows himself to be a friend to
the enemies of this camp. Therefore the man who does that shows himself
to be one of our enemies, in sympathy if not in fact.”
“I'm no lawyer,” growled Bellas sullenly, “and I can't follow your flow
of gab.”
“You know well enough what I'm saying to you, Bellas, and you know that
I'm right. Since you've been away and joined our enemies we don't want
you here. More, we don't intend to have you here. Mr. Payson has dropped
you from the rolls, and that cuts you off from this camp. Now, I think
you will understand that it is some of our business whether you have
been over in town emptying your pockets, into Jim Duff's hat. If that
is what you have been doing, then we don't want you here, and won't have
you. If you haven't been hob-nobbing with our enemies, and paying all
you had for the privilege, then we'll look into any claims of better
conduct that you may make, and, if satisfied that you've been telling
the truth, we'll reinstate you.”
“Oh, you make me tired--you kid!” burst from Bellas's lips.
“This isn't an experience meeting,” Tom replied, not losing his smile,
“and I'm not interested in your impressions of me. Do you wish to make
any statement advocating your right to be taken on the pay roll again?”
“No, I don't!” roared the angry fellow. “All I want to do is to show you
my opinion of you, Tommy! I can do that best by rubbing your nose in the
dirt outside.”
Foreman Payson flung himself between the big, angry human bull and the
young chief engineer.
“Don't waste any time or heat on him, Mr. Payson,” Tom advised, slipping
his handful of letters into his coat and tossing that garment to the
back of the room. “If Bellas has any grudge against me, I don't want to
stop him from making his last kick.”
Tom took a step forward, his open hands hanging at his sides. He didn't
look by any means alarmed, though Bellas appeared to be about twice the
young chief engineer's size.
So prompt had been Reade's action that, for a moment, Bellas looked
astounded. Then, with a roar, he leaped forward, swinging both arms and
closing in.
Tom Reade had had his best physical training on the football gridiron.
He dropped, instantly, as he leaped forward, making a low tackle and
rising with both arms wrapped around Bellas's knees. Tom took two swift
steps forward, then heaved his man, head first, out through the open
doorway.
Bellas landed about eight feet away. He was not hurt, beyond a jolting,
and leaped to his feet, shaking both fists.
“Not unless you really insist upon it,” smiled Tom, shaking his head.
“It's too warm for exercise to-day.”
“You tricky little whipper-snapper!” roared Bellas, making an angry
bound for the doorway.
Tom met his angry rush. Both went down, rolling over and over on the
ground. Bellas wound his powerful arms about the boy, and would have
crushed him. Though Tom hated to do it, there was no alternative but to
choke the powerful bully. Bellas soon let go, dazed and gasping. Ere the
big fellow came to his senses sufficiently to know what he was about,
Reade had hoisted Bellas to one shoulder.
Down by the checker's hut the crowd of curious workmen gasped as they
saw Tom Reade jogging along with this great load over one shoulder.
Reaching the line, Tom gave another heave. Bellas rolled on the ground.
He was conscious and could have gotten up, but he chose to lay where he
had fallen and think matters over.
“Don't think I'm peevish, men,” Tom called pleasantly. “I wouldn't have
done that if Bellas hadn't attacked me. I had to defend myself. Now,
while I'm here, does any man wish to make a claim for justice? Does any
man feel that he has been discharged unfairly?”
Three or four men answered, though none of the Mexicans was among the
number. When questioned as to whether they had spent the night among Jim
Duff's friends all the speakers admitted that they had. Tom then made
them the same explanation he had offered Bellas.
“That's about all that can be said, isn't it, men?” Tom asked in
conclusion. “I am sorry for those of you who feel hurt, but while there
is bad blood in the air every man must choose between one camp or the
other. You men chose Jim Duff, and you'll have to abide by your choice.”
“But we haven't any money,” declared one of the men sullenly.
“Now you're just beginning to understand that Jim Duff won't be a very
good friend to a penniless man. Didn't you know that when you shook all
your change into his hat?”
“Are you going to let us starve?” growled the man.
“You won't starve, nor need you be out of work long,” Tom retorted. “Any
man who can do the work of a railway laborer in this country doesn't
have to remain out of a job. Now, I'll ask you to get off the railroad's
ground.”
Tom turned and went back to the office, while Payson and the other
foremen saw to it that the discharged men left the railroad's property.
In less than half an hour the disgruntled ones were back in the worst
haunts of Paloma, spreading the news of Tom Reade's latest outrage.
When Tom reached the office he found Mr. Ellsworth inside.
“I saw what you did, Reade, though you didn't know I was about. You
handled it splendidly. You made it plain enough, too, to the men that
they had joined the enemy and thereby declared against us.”
“Message, Mr. Reade,” called the operator from the doorway.
“The construction material train, the first one, will be here within two
hours,” cried Tom, looking up from the paper, his eyes dancing. “Now we
can do some of the real work that we've been waiting to do!”