Don't!"
"I've got to come to you!"
"I tell you don't! Maybe I can get myself out."
"Yes, you can," jeered Hazelton. "Tom, if you went under, do you think
I could ever go back to our native town?"
"Payson!" shouted Tom.
"Yes, sir!"
"Don't let Mr. Hazelton come--yet. Seize him!"
"I've got him, sir!"
Harry felt himself seized by the strong arms of the foreman.
"You don't go, sir," Payson insisted. "It's a criminal waste of life."
"Man, unhand me. Let me go, I tell you."
"I won't, sir. I've Mr. Reade's orders."
"He's helpless and no longer in command," Harry retorted.
"He's in command enough for me, sir."
"Payson!" Harry Hazelton's fierce gaze burned into the eyes of the
foreman. "If Tom Reade dies out yonder, and you've hindered me from
saving him--I'll have your life for forfeit!"
Before that burning look even Payson shrank back. Harry Hazelton,
ordinarily the best natured of boys, was now in terrible earnest.
"That's right," muttered Hazelton.
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