"Cut out the gun-play! That doesn't go here!" Tom uttered warningly.

One swift step forward, and one hand caught Jim Duff by the throat.
With the other hand Tom caught Duff's right wrist and wrenched away the
pistol that instantly appeared in the gambler's hand.

The weapon Tom threw on the ground, some feet away. Then, with eyes
blazing with contempt, Tom Reade struck the gambler heavily across the
face with the flat of his hand. Hard work had added to the young
engineer's muscle of earlier days, and the gambler was staggered.

Another instant, and Superintendent Hawkins who, with Hazelton and the
foremen, had run up to them, seized Duff roughly from behind, holding
his arms pinioned.

Harry Hazelton picked up the revolver. Quickly opening it, he drew out
the cartridges.

"Mr. Bell!" called Harry, and the foreman of that name hastened to him.

"Take this thing back to the office and break it up with a hammer,"
directed young Hazelton, as he passed the revolver to the foreman. The
latter sped away on his errand.

"Let Duff go, Mr. Hawkins," directed Tom. "I'm not afraid of him.
Duff, I wish to apologize to you for striking you in the face. I
wouldn't allow any man to do that to me. But your action in reaching
for a pistol was so childish--or cowardly, whichever you prefer to call
it--that I admit I forgot myself for a moment. Now, you are not going
to erect any tents for gambling or other unworthy purposes on the