There was a frown on Mr. Ellsworth's face as
they started townward.
"Well," asked Harry Hazelton, with a grin on his face, as he watched the
departing car, "are we going to be fired or praised?"
"We're going to lay the track across the Man-killer," returned Reade
resolutely.
"How about the gambler and his bad crowd? Are we going to beat them?"
"We're going to do whatever the general manager orders, just as long as
we remain here," replied Tom. "He's our only source of authority. If
he tells me to let Jim Duff bring a cityful of tents out here and run
night or day--then that's all there will be to it."
"I'd sooner quit," growled Hazelton, "than knuckle to such a crew of
rascals."
"So would I," nodded Tom good-humoredly, "if it were my quit. But, if
Mr. Ellsworth gives such orders it will be his quit, not ours."
Harry walked restlessly up and down the little office, but Tom threw
himself down at full length on a cot in the corner. Within two minutes
he was sound asleep.
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