tent for the engineers."

This Blaisdell also showed them. There was nothing in the tent
but a plain, long table, with folding legs, and a lot of camp
chairs of the simplest kind.

"What's that tent, Mr. Blaisdell?" inquired Harry, pointing to
the next one, as they came out of the engineers' mess.

"Mess tent for the chainmen and rod men laborers, etc.," replied
their guide. "Now, the fellows will be in soon, and supper will
be on in half an hour. After you get your dunnage over to your
tent amuse yourselves in any way that you care to. I'll introduce
you to the crowd at table."

Tom and Harry speedily had their scanty dunnage stored in their
own tent. Then they sat down on campstools just outside the door.

"Thurston didn't seem extremely cordial, did he?" asked Hazelton
solemnly.

"Well, why should he be cordial?" Tom demanded. "What does he
know about us? We're trying to break in here and make a living,
but how does he know that we're not a pair of merely cheerful
idiots?"

"I've an idea that Mr. Thurston is always rather cool with his
staff," pursued Harry.

"Do your work, old fellow, in an exceptionally fine way, and I