The Young Engineers in Arizona Read online

  That railroad pay day proved a time of gloom to many in the town of Paloma. The returning pay train carried the bank officials and twenty-four thousand dollars that had been deposited as new accounts from the men. Of the money that remained in camp much of it was carried in the pockets of men who meant to keep it there until they received something worth while it exchange.

  True, this did not trouble the majority of people in Paloma, who were sober, decent American citizens engaged in the proper walks of life.

  But Jim Duff and a few others held an indignation meeting that night.

  "We've been robbed!" complained one indignant saloon keeper.

  "Gentlemen," observed Jim Duff, in his oiliest tones, though his face was ghastly white, "you have a new enemy, who threatens your success in business. How are you going to deal with him?"

  "We'll run him off the desert, or bury him there!" came the snarling response.

  "I can't believe that boy, Reade, will ever succeed in laying the railroad tracks across the Man-killer," smiled Jim Duff darkly within himself.

  CHAPTER IV. SOMEBODY STIRS THE MUD

  The next morning only a few of the men, some of those who had refused to open bank accounts, failed to show up at the railroad camp.

  "There is really nothing to do this morning," Tom remarked to Superintendent Hawkins. "However, I think you had better dock the missing men for time off. If you find that any missing man has been gone on a proper errand of rest or enjoyment, and has not been making a beast of himself, you can restore his docked pay on the lists."

  "That's a very good idea," nodded Hawkins. "It always angers me to see these poor, hardworking fellows go away and make fools of themselves just as soon as they get a bit of pay in their pockets. Still, you can't change the whole face of human nature, Mr. Reade."

  "I don't expect to do so," smiled Tom. "Yet, if we can get a hundred or two in this outfit to take a sensible view of pay day, and can drill it into them so that it will stick, there will be just that number of happier men in the world. How long have you been in this work on the frontier, Mr. Hawkins?"

  "About twenty years, sir."

  "Then it must have angered you, many a time, to see the vultures and the parasites fattening on the men who do the real work in life."

  "It has," nodded the superintendent. "However, I haven't your gift with the tongue, Mr. Reade, and I've never been able to lead men into the right path as you did yesterday."

  Over in the little village of tents where the idle workmen sat through the forenoon there was some restlessness. These men knew that there was nothing for them to do until the construction material arrived, and that they were required only to report in order to keep themselves on the time sheets. Having reported to their foremen and the checkers, they were quite at liberty to go over into Paloma or elsewhere. A few of them had gone. Some others had an uneasy feeling that they wouldn't like to face the contempt in the eyes of the young chief engineer if he happened to see them going away from camp.

  "It's none of the business of that chap Reade," growled one of the workmen.

  "Of course it isn't," spoke up another. "He talked to us straight yesterday, however, and showed us that it was our own business to keep out of the tough places in Paloma. I've worked under these engineers for years, and I never before knew one of them to care whether I had a hundred dollars or an empty stomach. Boys, I tell you, Reade, has the right stuff in him, if he is only a youngster. He knows the enemies he has made over in Paloma, and he understands the risks be has been taking in making such enemies. He proved to us that he can stand that sort of thing and be our friend. Look at this thing, will you?"

  With something of a look of wonder the speaker drew out the bankbook that he had acquired the afternoon before.

  "I've got forty dollars in bank," he continued, in something of a tone of awe. "Forty friends of mine that I've put away to work and do good things for me! If I don't touch this money for some years then I'll find that this money has grown to be a lot more than forty dollars!"

  "Or else you'll find that some bank clerk is up in Canada spending it," jeered a companion.

  "I don't care what the clerk does. The bank will be still good for the money. Joe, you read the papers as often as any come into camp."

  "Yes."

  "All right. The next time you find anything about a savings bank that has failed and left the people in the lurch for their money, you show it to me. Savings banks don't fail nowadays! No, Sir!"

  Other men through the camp were taking sly peeps at their bankbooks, as though they were half ashamed at having such possessions. Yet many a hard toiler in camp felt a new sense of importance that morning. He began to look upon himself as a part of the moneyed world as, indeed, he was!

  "Telegram for Mr. Reade," called one of the two camp operators, coming forward.

  Tom tore the envelope open, then stared at the following message:

  "Reade, Chief Engineer.

  "Have complaint from merchants of Paloma that you have effectually stopped the men from spending any money in the town. Not our policy to make enemies of the towns along our line. Explain immediately.

  "(Signed) ELLSWORTH,

  "General Manager."

  "Hmmm!" smiled Tom, then passed the message over to Superintendent Hawkins.

  "Your newly made enemies have gotten after you quickly, Sir," commented the superintendent grimly.

  "Yes," nodded Tom. "And, of course, I can't follow any course that isn't approved by the general manager. I'll wire him the truth and see what he has to say. Operator!"

  "Yes, Sir," replied the young man, turning and coming back.

  "Wait for a message," directed Tom; then seated himself and wrote the following reply:

  "Ellsworth, General Manager.

  "Have not interfered in any way with honest merchants of Paloma. Men are at liberty to spend their money any way they choose. I did give the men a talk about the foolishness of spending their wages in buying liquor or in gambling. Result was that men banked about two thirds of the total pay roll with the bank people you sent on pay train yesterday at my request. Also drove off a gambler who tried to erect two tents on railroad property in order to fleece the men more speedily.

  "(Signed) READE,

  "Chief Engineer."

  "That will tell the general manager about the kind of merchants that I've been injuring," smiled Tom, first showing the sheet to Superintendent Hawkins and then handing it to the waiting messenger.

  "I hope Ellsworth, will be satisfied," nodded Hawkins. "Good will is an asset for a railway, and your enemies in Paloma may be able to stir up a good deal of trouble for you. Mr. Reade, I stood with you yesterday, and I'm still with you. If Ellsworth is so cranky that you feel like throwing the job here, then I'll walk out with you."

  "Oh, I'm not going to give up the work here," predicted Reade cheerfully. "I'm too much interested in it. Neither am I going to have my hands tied by any clique of gamblers and dive keepers. If Mr. Ellsworth isn't satisfied, then I'll run up to headquarters and talk to him in person. I'm not going to quit; neither am I going to be prevented from winning and deserving the friendship of the men who are here working for us."

  "Telegram for Mr. Reade," grinned the operator, again looking in at the doorway.

  After reading it, Tom passed over to Hawkins this message from General Manager Ellsworth:

  "Unable to judge merits of case at this distance. Will be with you soon."

  "That's all right," Reade declared.

  "It looks all right," muttered Hawkins, who knew something about the ways of railroads.

  Up the track the whistle on a stationary engine blew the noon signal.

  "Feel like eating, Harry?" Tom called to his chum, who had been mildly dozing in a chair in one corner of the room.

  "Always," declared Hazelton, sitting up and yawning.

  "Are you going to eat in town this noon, or in camp?" Tom inquired of the superintendent of construction.

 
Hawkins was about to answer that he'd eat in camp, when he suddenly reconsidered.

  "I guess I'll ride along with you, Mr. Reade," he said dryly.

  Horses were brought, and the three mounted and rode away. In such sizzling heat as beat down from the noonday sun Tom had not the heart to urge his mount to speed. The trio were soon at the edge of Paloma, which they had to enter through one of the streets occupied by the rougher characters.

  Just as they rode down by the first buildings a low whistle sounded on the heavy, dead air.

  "Signal that the locomotive is headed this way," announced Hawkins grimly. "Look out for the crossing, Mr. Reade!"

  Hardly had the superintendent finished speaking when a sharp hiss sounded from an open window. Then another and more hisses, from different buildings.

  "A few snakes left in the grass," Tom remarked jokingly.

  "Oh, you've stirred up a nest of 'em, Mr. Reade," rejoined the superintendent.

  Tom laughed as Harry added:

  "Let's hope that there are no poisonous reptiles among them. It would be rough on poisonous snakes to have Tom find them."

  Then the three horsemen turned the corner near the Mansion House. Superintendent Hawkins looked grave as he noted a crowd before the hotel.

  "Mr. Reade, I believe those men are there waiting to see you. I'm certain they've not gathered just to talk about the weather."

  There was a movement in the crowd, and a suppressed, surly murmur, as the engineer party was sighted.

  Tom Reade, however, rode forward at the head of his party, alighting close to the crowd, which numbered fifty or sixty men. The young chief engineer signed to one of the stable boys, who came forward, half reluctantly, and took the bridles of the three horses to lead them away.

  Jim Duff, backed by three other men, stepped forward. There was a world of menace in the gambler's wicked eyes as he began, in a soft, almost purring tone:

  "Mr. Reade," announced Jim Duff, "we are a committee, appointed by citizens, to express our belief that the air of Paloma is not going to be good for you. At the same time we wish to ask you concerning your plans for leaving the town."

  There could be no question as to the meaning of the speaker. Tom Reade was being ordered out of town.

  CHAPTER V. TOM HAS NO PLANS FOR LEAVING TOWN

  "My plans for leaving town?" repeated Tom pleasantly. "Why, gentlemen, I'll meet your question frankly by saying that I haven't made any such plans."

  "You're going to do so, aren't?" inquired Duff casually.

  "By the time that my partner and I have finished our work for the road, Mr. Duff, I imagine that we shall be making definite plans to go away, unless the railroad officials decide to keep us here with Paloma as headquarters for other work."

  "We believe that it would be much better for your health if you went away at once," Duff insisted, with a mildness that did not disguise his meaning in the least.

  Tom deemed it not worth while to pretend any longer that he did not understand.

  "Oh, then it's a case of 'Here's your hat. What's your hurry?'" asked Reade smilingly.

  "Something in that line," assented Jim Duff. "I venture to assure you that we are quite in earnest in our anxiety for your welfare, Mr. Reade."

  "Whom do you men represent?" asked Tom.

  "The citizens of Paloma," returned Duff.

  "All of them?" Reade insisted.

  "All of them—with few exceptions."

  "I understand you, of course," Tom nodded.

  "Now, Mr. Duff, I'll tell you what I propose. I'm curious to know just how many there are on your side of the fence. Pardon me, but I really can't quite believe that the better citizens of this town are behind you. I know too many Arizona men, and I have too good an opinion of them. Your kind of crowd makes a lot of noise at times, and the other kind of Arizona crowd rarely makes any noise. I know, of course, the element in the town that your committee represents, but I don't believe that your element is by any means in the majority here."

  "I assure you that we represent the sentiment of the town," Duff retorted steadily.

  "Much as I regret the necessity for seeming to slight your opinion," Tom went on with as pleasant a smile as at first, "I call for a showing of hands or a count of noses. I'll tell you what we'll do, Mr. Duff, if it meets with your approval. We'll hire a hall, sharing the expense. We'll state the question fairly in the local newspaper, and we'll invite all good citizens to turn out, meet in the hall, hear the case on both sides, and then decide for themselves whether they want the railroad engineers to leave the town or—"

  "They do want you to leave town!" the gambler insisted.

  "Or whether they want Jim Duff and some of his friends to leave town," Tom Reade continued good-humoredly.

  Jim Duff turned, gazing back at the men with him. They represented the roughest element in the town.

  "No use arguing with a mule, Jim!" growled a red-faced man at the rear of the crowd. "Get a rail, boys, and we'll start the procession right now."

  "Bring a rope along, too!" called another man hoarsely.

  "Get two rails and one rope!" proposed a third bad character. "The other kid doesn't seem to be sassy enough to need a rope."

  "Gentlemen," broke in Harry Hazelton gravely, "if anyone of you imagines that I'm holding my tongue because I disapprove of my partner's course, let me assure you that I back every word he says."

  "Make it two ropes, then!" jeered another voice.

  "Reade," continued Jim Duff, "we all try to be decent men here, and the friends with me are a good and sensible lot of men. You have carried matters just a little too far. Think over what you've heard and noticed here, and then tell me again about your plans, for quitting Paloma."

  As he spoke Jim made a gesture that kept some of the men near him from rushing forward. Tom did not appear to notice the demonstration at all. Certainly he did not flinch.

  "I haven't any such plans," Tom laughed. "I'm hungry and I'm going inside to eat."

  With that, he turned his back on the crowd, with Harry behind him, both making for the steps of the hotel. Superintendent Hawkins stepped in after the boys.

  "Gentlemen, I can't do anything more," spoke up Jim Duff, with an air of resignation.

  "But we can!" roared some of the roughs in the crowd. A dozen of them surged forward. The first of them swung a lariat to slip it over Tom Reade's neck.

  Bump! Hawkins's sledge-hammer right hand shot out, landing on that fellow's face. With a moan the fellow collapsed on the sidewalk, his jaw broken.

  Then Tom and Harry wheeled like a flash, eyeing the idlers and roughs sternly.

  "Don't go any further," proposed Tom, his eyes growing steely, "unless you mean it."

  Something in the attitude of the trio of athletic figures standing ready before them disquieted the crowd of roughs. There were armed men in that crowd, but all felt that they had been put in the wrong, so far, and none of them dared draw the first weapon or fire the first shot.

  "Take that injured man to a surgeon and have his jaw set," spoke Tom quietly. "Let the surgeon send me the bill. I'm sorry for the fellow, for I'm indirectly the cause of his being hurt. The main cause of his misfortune was due to his being in bad company."

  "Come out of that hotel," ordered Jim Duff, his eyes blazing as he stepped forward, though with Hawkins's cold, hard eyes on him the gambler was careful to keep his hands at his sides. "You can't get anything to eat in there!"

  "Do you own the hotel?" Tom inquired coolly.

  "No; but you can't eat there."

  "Join us at lunch, Mr. Hawkins!" Tom invited, turning away from the gambler. The superintendent nodded, for he had no intention of leaving the young engineers for the present.

  All three entered the hotel, while the small mob outside hooted and jeered. Tom led the way to a table in the dining room, signing to one of the waiters.

  Hardly had the waiter reached them when Jim Duff and the proprietor of the Mansion House came in. Jim, after saying a f
ew words in a low tone, halted, while the proprietor came forward.

  "Good morning, Mr. Ashby," nodded Tom, when he saw the proprietor headed their way. The latter looked rather embarrassed, but he moved a hand to signal the waiter to withdraw.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Reade, but I can't have you any longer at this hotel," began Ashby.

  "Any particular reason?" Tom inquired, looking the man straight in the eye.

  "Yes; some of my other guests object to your presence here."

  "Meaning Jim Duff?" questioned Reade coolly.

  "I don't care to discuss the matter with you, Mr. Reade, but I can't entertain you here any longer."

  "Does that apply even to this meal, Mr. Ashby?"

  "It does."

  "Very good," nodded Tom, rising. Harry and Hawkins shoved their chairs back, too, and stood up.

  "Say, but I don't like the looks of that!" announced a voice from another table. There were five men seated there, all of them well-dressed and prosperous-looking traveling salesmen, who had arrived that morning.

  "This is a very regrettable necessity on my part, gentlemen," began Proprietor Ashby hurriedly, and plainly ill at ease. "Some of my regular guests object to the presence of these young men, and so—"

  "These young gentlemen have gotten in bad by objecting to having their men fleeced here in town, haven't they?" inquired the boldest of the drummers. "I heard something about it this morning."

  "Perhaps you haven't heard all the circumstances," suggested Ashby in growing embarrassment.

  "We've heard enough, anyway," replied the same drummer briskly. "So these young men, who are a credit to their profession and to their home towns, are ordered to leave here? Boys, I guess we leave, too, don't we?"

  The other traveling salesmen assented emphatically.

  Now Proprietor Ashby felt dismal, indeed. These five men were occupying the best quarters in his hotel, outside of those occupied by Jim Duff. It was not the loss of patronage from these men alone that troubled Ashby. Traveling salesmen have their own ways of "passing around the word" and downing any hotel that depends largely on their patronage.