"Even to the Mexican
foreman, Mendoza. He's a greaser, but he's a brick, and a white man all
the way through!"
"Call the foremen in, then--all except Payson, who is with his gang."
Tom and Harry stepped inside the office. Mr. Hawkins strolled away, but
within ten minutes he was back again, followed by Foremen Bell, Rivers
and Mendoza.
"Two wagons have driven up, east of here," announced Mr. Hawkins, as he
entered the office building. "They've stopped a quarter of a mile below
here and have dumped two tents. I think they're about to raise them."
Tom stepped hastily outside, glancing eastward, where they saw what the
superintendent had described. One of the tents had just been raised,
though the pitching of it had not yet been thoroughly done.
"What crowd is that?" Reade asked. "Who is at the head of it?"
"I see one man there--the only man in good clothes--who looks like Jim
Duff," replied the superintendent, using his field glasses.
"The gambler?" asked Tom sharply.
"The same.
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