No more interruptions followed during the night, however. At daylight
the watchmen sought their tents and the day force began to stir soon
after.
After the steam whistle bad blown the breakfast call, Reade slipped away
from his friends to inspect the laborers at the meal.
"There are some of your men absent, Mr. Mendoza," Tom murmured to the
Mexican foreman.
"Yes, Senor. Some of my men slipped away in the night."
"Went off to Paloma, eh?"
Mendoza shrugged his shoulders.
"Gambling, drinking--both," nodded Tom.
"Undoubtedly, Senor."
"Get the names of your absent Mexicans, and report to me with them."
Reade then went to the other foremen, with the same orders.
Before Tom had seated himself at his own meal, with Harry and Mr.
Ellsworth, the foremen appeared, lists in their hands. Tom rapidly ran
his finger down the lists.
"Twenty-eight Mexicans and fourteen Americans absent from camp," he
muttered. "Foremen, when these men come back you may tell them that
they are no longer needed.
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