"Stop!" commanded Tom Reade, leaping forward where the light was
brightest and into the thick of the struggling mass of humanity.
"Stop, I tell you!"
His commands fell upon deaf ears. It was impossible to restrain these
men.
Here and there the lately masked men drew pistols, though not one of
them had a chance to use his weapon ere it was wrested from him.
Pound! slam! bang! A medley of falling blows filled the air, nor was it
many seconds later when cries of pain and fear, and appeals for mercy
were heard on all sides.
Tom had recognized his own railroad workers, and was throwing himself
among them, doing his utmost with hands and voice to stop the brief but
wild orgy of revenge on the part of the workmen who idolized him. In
their present rage, however, Tom could not at once restrain them. Time
and again he was swept back from reaching Tim Griggs, who was easily the
center of this volcanic outburst of human passion.
"Boys!" roared Tim. "We'll want to know these coyotes to-morrow.
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