“Why, I think it may be better for you to go back to the hotel, sir,” Tom proposed. “As for Harry and myself, after what has happened in town to-day, it may be as well if we are on hand at the camp to-night. There may be some attempt to stampede our men. The crowd in Paloma are capable of offering our men free drink, just to do us mischief. We've a lot of strong men in our force, but there are some weak vessels who would be caught by a free offer, and some of our work gangs would be demoralized to-morrow.”
Mr. Ellsworth thereupon decided to return to the camp also, and, arriving there, dismissed the car. A tent was pitched for him close to the office, and a cot rigged up in it.
Then the party sat up, chatting, after most of the workmen had turned in for the night.
“I'll be thankful when the material gets here,” sighed Tom. “I'm tired of loafing.”
“It seems to me that you have been doing anything but loafing,” smiled the general manager.
“I want to get to work on the Man-killer. Besides, idleness is costing the road a lot of money in wages for these men.”
“I wired this afternoon,” stated Mr. Ellsworth, “to have the material trains rushed forward on express schedule as soon as the stuff strikes our lines.”
“Then—” began Hawkins slowly.
His next words were drowned out by a booming explosion to the westward of the camp.
“The scoundrels!” gasped Tom Reade, leaping up. “This is more of our friends' work! They have dynamited the most ticklish part of the work on the Man-killer!”