“Whew! I shall be glad of a sleep to-night, after all the excitement of last night,” declared Hazelton, as the young engineers rode into Paloma at the close of the day's work.
On the porch, lolling in a reclining chair with his feet elevated to the railing, sat Frank Danes.
“Back from toil, gentlemen?” was his pleasant greeting.
“Long enough to get sufficient sleep to carry us through to-morrow,” was Tom Reade's unruffled response.
“You do look tired,” assented Danes, rising and coming toward them. “Yet I hear that, personally, you don't have hard work to do.”
“We don't work at all, if you take that view of it,” Harry retorted. “Yet there's a thing called responsibility, and many wise men have declared that it takes more out of a man than hours of toiling with pick and shovel.”
“Oh, I can believe that's so,” agreed Danes. “Going into dinner now?”
“After a bath and a change of clothing,” Tom replied.
“Then, if you really don't mind, I'll wait and dine at the same table with you.”
“If you can wait that long we shall be charmed to have your company,” Tom assured him as the young engineers stepped inside.