"Then do you mind telling us just how we should approach the chief
engineer?"

"Whatter yer names?"

"Reade and Hazelton."

"Bob, trot over and tell Thurston there's two fellows here, named
Reade and Hazelnut. Ask him what he wants done with 'em."

The cook's helper, who, so far, had not favored the new arrivals
with a glance, now turned and looked them over. Then, with a
nod, the helper stepped across the ground to the largest tent
in camp. In a few moments he came back.

"Mr. Thurston says to stay around and he'll call you jest as soon
as he's through with what he's doing," announced Bob, who, dark,
thin and anemic, was a decrepit-looking man of fifty years or
thereabouts.

"Ye can stand about in the open," added the cook, pointing with
his ladle. "There's better air out there."

"Thank you," answered Tom briskly, but politely. Once outside,
and strolling slowly along, Reade confided to his chum:

"Harry, you can see what big fellows we two youngsters are going
to be in a Rocky Mountain railroad camp. We haven't a blessed
thing to do but play marbles until the chief can see us."