Arrived at camp, Tom found Mr. Bascomb walking back and forth on the porch of the engineers' house.
"You're up late, sir," was Tom's friendly greeting to the president.
"Yes, Reade; I can't sleep to-night," said Mr. Bascomb wearily. "I came over here to talk with Prenter. Where is he?"
"Asleep, I imagine, sir," Tom answered.
"Wrong," replied President Bascomb. "I've already been inside, but
Prenter isn't in the house."
"Then perhaps he thought it too lively around here," laughed Reade, "and went over to Blixton to sleep at the hotel."
Mr. Bascomb didn't reply to this, but puffed hard at the black cigar he was smoking and sending up clouds of smoke.
But the president of the Melliston Company became instantly more distracted when Tom Reade began an account of the capture of Evarts, and his jailing, and the escape of Mr. Sambo Ebony.
Presently Bascomb began to puff harder than ever at his cigar.
"Reade," he finally blurted out, "how long were you hiding there before
Evarts found you there?"