“Very good, then. I know I can't actually interfere with the way the men spend their money. But I'm going to give them some earnest advice about avoiding fellows who would fleece them out of their wages.”
“Go slowly, Tom!” warned Hazelton, opening his eyes rather wide. “Don't put yourself in bad with the men, or they may quit you in a body.”
“Let them,” retorted Tom, with one of his easy smiles. “If these men throw up their work General Manager Ellsworth will know where to find others for us. Few of our men are skilled workers. We can find substitutes for most of them anywhere that laborers can be found.”
“But you've no right—”
“Of one thing you may be very sure, Harry. I'll take pains not to step over the line of my own rights, and not to step on the rights of the men who are working for us. What I mean to do is to offer them some very straight talk. I shall also warn them that we are quite ready to discharge any foolish fellows who may happen to go on sprees and unfit themselves for our work. I've one surprise to show you, Harry. Wait until Johnson, the paymaster, gets in. Then you'll see who else is with him.”
“Are you gentlemen ready for your horses?” asked a stable boy, coming around to the front of the hotel.
“Yes,” nodded Tom.
Two tough, lean, wiry desert ponies were brought around. Tom and Harry mounted, riding away at a slow trot at first.
From an upper window Fred Ransom looked down upon them, then called Duff to his side.
“There is your game, Duff,” hinted the agent.