"I believe there's a way," spoke Tom confidently.

"I hope you can find it, then, Mr. Reade," retorted Hawkins skeptically.

"At any rate, I'm going to try."

"What are you going to do, Mr. Reade?" demanded the superintendent
curiously.

"You'll be with me, won't you?" coaxed Tom.

"You'll stand with us, shoulder to shoulder."

"I certainly will, Mr. Reade!"

"And the foremen? You can depend upon them?"

"On every one of them," declared Hawkins promptly. "Even to the Mexican
foreman, Mendoza. He's a greaser, but he's a brick, and a white man all
the way through!"

"Call the foremen in, then--all except Payson, who is with his gang."

Tom and Harry stepped inside the office. Mr. Hawkins strolled away, but
within ten minutes he was back again, followed by Foremen Bell, Rivers
and Mendoza.

"Two wagons have driven up, east of here," announced Mr. Hawkins, as he
entered the office building. "They've stopped a quarter of a mile below
here and have dumped two tents. I think they're about to raise them."