Hazelton glanced humorously at his partner before he replied:
"At present there's a very good chance of a fight right here at this camp."
"So?" Dick Prescott asked, sitting up with a look of interest.
"Not so much chance as there was," said Tom gravely. "The fight came off to-night. Harry, I met the big black—-caught him redhanded."
"You did?" cried Hazelton, leaping up. "And you never called me?"
"There wasn't any chance," Tom assured him. "The meeting and the fight didn't take place on this porch."
Tom now had two very interested auditors. For Prescott's benefit Reade first sketched a brief outline of the troubles that had led up to the present, including an account of the wrecking of substantial portions of the retaining wall. Then he came down to the events of the night.
"Oh, and I had to miss it," sighed Harry, disappointedly. "I'd have missed a week of sleep just to have been in to-night's doings. And, if I had been with you, Tom, we'd now have Mr. Sambo Ebony in jail."
"I think we've blocked the black rascal's game on the wall, anyway," said
Tom.
"There's just a fair chance that you haven't yet blocked it," remarked the young army officer thoughtfully. "Of course this Sambo of yours merely represents a well-organized gang. This gang may have more ways than one of damaging the property of the Melliston Company. From all I can see, Tom and Harry, you're likely to need to be more vigilant than ever. Whew! But I'm glad that I can be with you a few days. I'm likely to come in for a choice lot of excitement. Also, I may very likely be able to help out a lot."