blanks?"

"That was all he had to shoot," Tom returned coolly. "And blanks
were all he had in his belt to reload with. Don't you remember
when we heard him making a noise up the hillside, and talking
in dots and dashes!"

"I do," nodded Rutter, looking half dazed.

"That," grinned Reade, "was when he started in to reload? and
discovered that he had nothing on hand but temperance cartridges.
Here-----" Tom began to unload one of his pockets upon the wooden
table before the astonished eyes of the others. There was a mixture
of his own blank cartridges with the real ammunition that he had
stealthily abstracted from Bad Pete's revolver and belt.

Such a whoop of glee ascended that the head chainman came running
from the other nearby mess tent to see what was up.

"Just a little joke among our youngsters, my man," explained Mr.
Thurston. "The young gentlemen are going to keep the joke to
themselves for the present, though."

So the mystified and disappointed chainman returned to his own
crowd.

"Let me see, Reade," continued Mr. Thurston, turning once more
to Tom, "what is your salary?"

"I was taken on, sir, at forty dollars a month, as a starter,"