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Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving), 1868-1922

"The Young Engineers in Arizona Laying Tracks on the Man-killer Quicksand"

"Ransom is trying hard to earn a
living, you know."
Harry snorted. That sort of estimation of Ransom, even as a joke, was a
little too much for him.
"Mighty hot day, Reade," called Ransom, as he reined in near the young
engineers.
"Yes," said Tom slowly. "If I were enjoying myself beside a bottle of
cold soda on the Mansion House porch I don't believe I'd have the energy
to call for a horse and ride all the way out here in the heat."
"Am I intruding?" demanded Ransom, with a swift, keen glance at the
young chief engineer.
"Oh, no, indeed!" came Tom's response. "You're as welcome as the
flowers in spring."
"Thank you. It's a fine job you're doing out here."
"Now it's my turn to extend my thanks to you," Tom drawled. "Your
praise is all the more appreciated as coming from a competitor."
"A competitor!" asked Ransom quickly, and with a half scowl. "I'm not
an engineer."
"Your people are ranked as pretty fair engineers," Reade rejoined.
"My people? What do you mean, Reade? There isn't an engineer in our
family.


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