“You fool!” hissed a voice in Tom Halstead’s ear.
The young skipper turned, to find himself gazing into the glaring eyes of Justin Bolton.
“In some way,” declared the scoundrel, “this is all your work!”
“Partly mine, partly that of my friends,” Tom smilingly admitted.
“You may have beaten me, but I offered you a fortune to work on my side. What do you get out of this turn of affairs?”
“The satisfaction, at least, Mr. Bolton, of knowing that I’m a decent human being, true to what little trusts may come my way.”
“Bah! That, as against a fortune!”
Then, suddenly, as though actuated by uncontrollable fury, Bolton leaped at young Halstead, gripping him furiously by the throat.
“Quit that!” commanded Joe Dawson, sternly. Without waiting the young engineer swung his fist, striking Bolton a heavy blow full in the face.