moved forward to meet the party. "Dock, come here. I want you to know
Mr. Reade, the engineer in charge of this job."

Duff's manners were impudently easy and assured. The fellow known as
Dock Bemis, an unprepossessing, shabbily dressed man of thirty-five,
with a mean face and an ugly-looking eye, came forward.

"I'll take Mr. Bemis's acquaintance for granted," Tom continued, with an
easy smile. "You own this outfit, don't you, Mr. Duff?"

"I've rented it, if you mean the tents, tables and chairs," assented the
gambler. "I've a stock of liquors coming over as soon as I send one of
the wagons back."

"What do you propose to do with all this?" Tom inquired.

"Why, of course, you see," smiled Duff, with all the suavity in the
world, "as your boys are going to be paid off this afternoon they'll
want to go somewhere to enjoy themselves. As the day is very hot I
thought it would be showing good intentions if I brought an outfit over
here. I'll have everything ready within an hour."

"So that you can get our men intoxicated and fleece them more easily?"
asked Tom, with his best smile. "Is that the idea?"

Jim buff flushed angrily. Then his face became pale.

"It's a crude way you have of expressing it, Mr. Reade, if you Ill allow
me to say so," the gambler answered, in a voice choked with anger. "I
am going to offer your men a little amusement. It's what they need, and