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"Now, you've done it!" exclaimed Tom.
"I haven't quite finished," snapped the stranger, rus.h.i.+ng after Reade.
"I'm going to box your ears soundly, boy!"
"Are you, indeed?" demanded Tom, halting. He was still smiling, but there was a stern look in his eyes. Tom no longer retreated, but stood awaiting Black's a.s.sault.
Blanks fist shot out straight, but Reade didn't stop the blow.
Instead, he ducked low. When he came up his arms enveloped Black's legs in one of the swift football tackles that Tom had learned with the Gridley High School football team.
"You annoy me," drawled Tom, and hurled the fellow ten feet away.
Black landed on his back with an angry roar, followed by cursing.
"Profanity is always objectionable to a gentleman," declared Tom dryly, running over ere the newcomer could regain his feet. Once more Reade bent and rose. As he did so, Eugene Black shot through the tent doorway, landing on the ground a dozen feet beyond.
Tom stood in the doorway, smiling. Black leaped to his feet.
"You puppy!" gasped Black, sending his right hand back to his hip pocket. Tom didn't wait to see what he would bring out, but darted forward. This time he seized the stranger in a dead tackle, dropping him over on his back without throwing him.
"Now, roll over," ordered Reade grimly. "I'm curious to see what you have in your pocket. Ah! So---this is it! You're another Peter Bad, are you?"
Tom held in one hand a silver-plated revolver with ivory handle that he had s.n.a.t.c.hed out of Black's pocket.
"I wonder why it is," mocked Tom, grinning, "that nine out of every ten dude tenderfeet from the east come west with one of these things."
Black charged the cub, intent on recapturing his pistol, but Reade shot out a foot, tripping him. Then Tom ran nimbly over to the cook tent. Here he halted, breaking the weapon at the breech and allowing the cartridges to drop into his hand. He transferred them to his pocket, then wheeled and picked up Jake's kitchen hatchet.
With a few swift strokes from the head of the hatchet Tom put that firearm on the retired list for good.
"Give me my pistol, boy!" choked Black, running up.
"Certainly," rejoined Reade, wheeling and politely offering the ruined firearm. "I don't want it. I've no use for such things"
Black took his weapon, gasped, then, seizing it by the barrel, leaped at Tom, intent on battering his head.
"Here, what's the trouble?" cried Mr. Thurston, appearing around the corner of the cook house and promptly seizing Black by the collar of his flannel s.h.i.+rt.
"Nothing much, sir," laughed Tom. "Mr. Black has just been showing me how bad men behave out in this part of the country."
"This boy is a troublesome cub, Mr. Thurston," declared Black hotly. "Do you see what he has done to my revolvers"
"How did Reade come to have it?" inquired Mr. Thurston.
"He s.n.a.t.c.hed it away from me."
"Reade, is this true?" demanded the chief engineer, turning to the youth.
"Yes, sir; as far as the story goes."
"Tell me the whole truth of this affair," ordered Mr. Thurston sternly.
Tom started to do so, modestly, but Black broke in angrily at points in the narrative.
"The princ.i.p.al thing that I have against Mr. Black," Tom said, "is that he spoiled all my drawing work of this morning."
"Yes; but how did I come to do it?" insisted the newcomer. "You pushed me against your drawing table."
Tom started with astonishment.
"My friend," he remarked, "Baron Munchausen never had anything on you!"
"Careful, Reade! Don't pa.s.s the lie," ordered the chief engineer sternly. "I shall look fully into this matter, but at present I'm inclined to believe that you're more at fault than is Black.
Return to the tent and start your drawing over again."
There was a smile again on Tom's face as he turned back to make his spoiled work good.
Mr. Thurston went back to his inspection of the ponies. Later, the chief engineer was able to pick up some details of the trouble from Jake Wren, who had seen Black reach for his revolver.
"Understand two things, Mr. Black," said the chief briskly. "In the first place, it is not expected that the engineers of this corps will find any real cause for fighting. Second, I will tolerate no pistol nonsense here."
Then he went back to Tom Reade and spoke to him more quietly.
"Reade, if Black doesn't turn out to be a valuable man here he won't last long. If he is a good man, then you will find it necessary, perhaps, to use a little tact in dealing with him. Did you notice what snapping black eyes the man has? Men with such black eyes are usually impulsive. Remember that."
"I never thought of that before, sir," Tom admitted dryly. "I really didn't know that people with black eyes are impulsive.
This I do know, however, people who are too impulsive generally get black eyes!"
CHAPTER IX
"DOCTORED" FIELD NOTES?
There was no more trouble---immediately. When the other engineers heard of the row---which news they obtained through Jake, not from Reade---they soon made it plain to 'Gene Black that Tom Reade was a favorite in the corps. Black was therefore treated with a coldness that he strove hard to overcome.
In the matter of being a capable civil engineer 'Gene Black speedily proved himself efficient. a.s.sistant Chief Engineer Blaisdell soon reported at headquarters that the new member of the corps was an exceedingly valuable man. Black was therefore placed at the head of a leveling squad that obtained the field notes from which were to be estimated the cost of making excavations in several cuts that must be made ere the coming tracks could be laid.
In the days that pa.s.sed Tom and Harry saw little of the field work. They were kept at the chief's tent. Hence Reade had but little to do with 'Gene Black, which may have been fortunate, as Tom still retained his first instinctive dislike for the black-eyed fellow.
"Reade and Hazelton, you two young men are going to forge ahead rapidly, and you are sure to earn good salaries, if you don't make the too common mistake of young engineers first starting out," Mr. Thurston told the cubs one forenoon.
"And what is that mistake, sir, if you please?" Tom queried.
"Don't make the mistake of getting too large an idea of the value of your services," replied the chief. "Just work hard all the time and be wholly una.s.suming.