Payson, in the meantime, had started the work going again, though most
of his men toiled with far less spirit than before the accident.
Ten minutes later Tom mounted his horse and rode slowly back toward
camp. By the time he reached there he made out the automobile of a
Paloma physician coming in haste.
Tom was still weak enough to tremble as Harry stepped outside and helped
him to the ground.
"Harry," Reade remarked dryly, "I'm not going to bother to thank you for
such a simple little thing as saving my life out yonder. I am well
aware that you had the time of your life in doing it."
"I might have had the time of my life," returned Harry, with an
imitation of his chum's calmness, "if there had been more excitement
about it. It was all rather dull, wasn't it, old chap?"
Smiling, both stepped inside. Then Tom's face became grave when he saw
that the rescued laborer had not yet recovered consciousness.
"Somewhere in the world," murmured Reade, as he dropped to one knee and
rested a finger-tip on the laborer's pulse, "there's someone--a woman,
or a child, or a white-haired old man--who wouldn't wish us to let this
man die.
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