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.
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