“There’s our friend Peter again,” Tom chuckled to Rutter.
“Yes, and the ruffian may open on you again at any moment,” warned Jack, keeping an anxious glance turned in the direction whence came the disturbing voice of Bad Pete.
“Oh, I don’t think he will,” drawled Tom, making a hand signal to the leading chainman to step a little more to the left. “I hope not, anyway, for the noise of revolver shots takes my thoughts away from my work.”
Jack Rutter said no more after that, though through the rest of the afternoon he kept an alert lookout for signs of Pete. There were none, however. Rather earlier than usual, on account of the distance back to camp, Rutter knocked off work for the entire party and the start on the return to camp was made.
Harry Hazelton was considerably excited when he heard the news of the firing on his chum. Reade, however, appeared to be but little interested in the subject.
Pete was not in camp that evening.
Rutter went at once to the tent of the chief, to tell him how well the “cubs” had done during the day. Nor did Jack forget to relate the encounter with Bad Pete.
Just as the underlings of the staff were seating themselves around the table in their mess, Mr. Thurston thrust his head in at the doorway.
“Reade,” called the chief engineer, “I have heard about your trouble with Pete today.”
“There wasn’t any real trouble, sir,” Tom answered.