“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.