The Young Engineers in Colorado Part 19

Tom told him all that had taken place, adding the caution that nothing was to be said about the matter for the present.

"Whew! I wish Mr. Blaisdell had let me go along," murmured Hazelton.

"I'd like to have seen his face when he finds out!"

Hearing footsteps approaching outside, Reade signaled for silence.

Then the flap of the tent was pulled back and Bad Pete glanced in.

"Howdy, pardners?" was the greeting from the bad man, that caused Tom Reade almost to fall from his campstool.

"How are you, Peter?" returned Tom. "This is, indeed, a pleasure."

"Where's the boss?" continued Bad Pete.

"If you mean Mr. Thurston, he's away."

"Where's Blaisdell, then?"

"He hit the trail, just a few minutes ago," Tom responded.

"Then I suppose you have no objections if I sit in here a while?"

"Peter," replied Tom solemnly, "you'll be conferring a great honor on us."

The bad man's present mood was so amiable that Harry did not deem it desertion to go outside. Bad Pete had his cartridge belt restocked with sure-enough cartridges, and his revolver swung as jauntily in its holster as ever. Pete seemed to have no idea, however, of trying to terrify anyone with his hardware.

"You've been away?" suggested Tom, by way of making conversation, after an awkward silence had endured for nearly two minutes.

"Yep," admitted the bad one. "Pardner, it seems like home to get back. Do you know, Reade, I've taken a big liking to you?"

"Peter," protested Tom, "if you don't look out you'll make me the vainest cub on earth."

"I mean it," a.s.serted Pete. "Pardner, I've a notion me and you are likely to become big friends."

"I never dared to hope for so much," breathed Tom, keeping back a laugh.

"'Cause," continued Bad Pete, "I reckon you're one of the kind that never goes back on a real pardner."

"I should hope not," Tom a.s.sured him.

"Have a cigar?" urged Pete, doffing his sombrero and taking out a big, black weed that he tendered the cub.

"What's the matter with it?" asked Tom curiously.

For just a second Bad Pete's eyes flashed. Then he choked back all signs of anger as he drawled:

"The only matter with this cigar, pardner, is that it's a gen-u-wine Havana cigar."

"I couldn't tell it from a genuine Baltimore," a.s.serted Tom.

"But I suppose that is because I never smoked."

"You never smoked? Pardner, you've got a lot to learn," replied Bad Pete, as he put the cigar back in his hat and replaced the latter on his head. "And, while we're talking about such matters, pardner, you might just hand me a twenty for a few days."

"Twenty dollars?" returned Tom. "Peter, until payday gets around I won't have twenty cents."

Bad Pete gazed at the cub keenly.

"Fact!" Tom a.s.sured him.

"Huh!" grunted Pete, rising. "I've been wasting my time on a pauper!"

Saying which, he stalked out.

Tom discreetly repressed his desire to laugh. Hazelton glided into the tent, grinning.

"Tom, be careful not to string Bad Pete so hard, or, one of these days, you'll get him so mad that he won't be able to resist drilling you through with lead."

"Let's go over to the cook tent and either beg or steal something to eat," proposed Reade.

It was two hours later when a rodman rode hurriedly into camp.

"Hey, you cubs," he called, "come and help me get Mr. Blaisdell's bed ready for him. He's coming back sick."

"Sick?" demanded Reade, thunderstruck. "Why, he looked healthy enough when he went out of camp a little while ago."

"He's sick enough, now," retorted the rodman.

"What ails Mr. Blaisdell?" asked Harry.

"It's mountain fever, I reckon," rejoined the rodman. "Blaisdell must have been off color for days, and didn't really know it."

All three worked rapidly getting everything in readiness for the coming of the a.s.sistant engineer. Then Mr. Blaisdell was brought in, on a stretcher rigged between two ponies. The acting chief is face was violently flushed, his eyes seemed bright as diamonds.

"Reade," said the acting chief thickly, as they lifted him from the litter to his cot, "if I'm not better by morning you'll have to get word to the chief."

"Yes, sir," a.s.sented Reade, placing a hand on Blaisdell's forehead.

It felt hot and feverish. "May I ask, sir, if you verified any of the sights on Nineteen?"

"I---I took some of 'em," replied the acting chief hesitatingly.

"Reade, I'm not sure that I remember aright, but I think---I think---you and Hazelton were correct about that. I---wish I could---remember."

Bill Blaisdell closed his eyes, and his voice trailed off into murmurs that none around him could understand. Even Reade, with his very slight experience in such matters, realized that the acting chief was a very sick man.

"You cubs better clear out of here now," suggested one of the rodmen. "I know better how to take care of men with mountain fever."

"I hope you do know more about nursing than I do, Carter," replied Tom very quietly. "In the future, however, don't forget that, though I may be a cub, I am an engineer, and you are a rodman.

When you speak to me address me as Mr. Reade. Come, men, all out of here but the nurse."

Once in the open Tom turned to Harry with eyes ablaze.