The Young Engineers in Arizona Or Laying Tracks on the Man-killer
Quicksand

By H. Irving Handcock





CHAPTER I

THE MAN OF "CARD HONOR"


"I'll wager you ten dollars that my fly gets off the mirror before yours
does."

"I'll take that bet, friend."

The dozen or so of waiting customers lounging in Abe Morris's barber
shop looked up with signs of renewed life.

"I'll make it twenty," continued the first speaker.

"I follow you," assented the second speaker.

Truly, if men must do so trivial a thing as squander their money on idle
bets, here was a novel enough contest.

Each of the bettors sat in a chair, tucked up in white to the chin.