If it's our railroad
crew I'll try to see to it that they don't do more than half kill you!"
Then, raising his voice, Tom called gleefully:
"Hello, there! You'll find us in the cellar."
"Why don't you kill that fool!" muttered Jim Duff, who, still dazed,
struggled to sit up.
"Hush, man, for goodness sake!" implored the badly frightened Ashby.
Duff, with rapidly returning consciousness, now leaped to his feet,
drawing his pistol and springing at Reade.
"Hold on!" Tom proposed coolly. "You're too late!"
The sudden flooding of light into the place and the rush of hobnailed
shoes on the stairs recalled even the gambler's scattered senses.
"There they are!" yelled a voice. "Grab 'em! Be careful you don't hit
Mr. Reade."
In another instant the cellar was the center of a wild scene. Railway
laborers flooded the little place. While some held dark lanterns that
threw a bright glow over the scene, others leaped upon the masked ones,
tearing the cloths from their faces.
"Serve 'em hot!" roared the same rough voice.
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