here. I have something to say to them."

Within ten minutes the five hundred laborers and mechanics had been
gathered in a compact crowd. Now that the excitement of hustling the
gambler off the scene had died away, many of the men were sorry that
they had not made their disapproval plainer. Though Tom Reade plainly
understood the mood of the men, he mounted a barrel, holding up both
hands as a sign for silence.

"Now, men," he began, "you all know that the pay train is due here this
afternoon. You are all eager to get your money--for what? It is a
strange fact that gold is the carrion that draws all of the vultures. A
few minutes ago you saw one of the vultures here, preparing to get his
supposed share of your money away from you. Does Jim Duff care a hang
about any of you? Do any of you care anything whatever for Jim Duff?
Then why should you be so eager to get into one of his tents and let him
take your money away from you?

"It is true that, once in a while, a solitary player gets a few dollars
away from a gambler. Yet, in the end, the gambler has every dollar of
the crowd that patronizes him. You men have been out in the hot sun for
weeks, working hard to earn the money that the pay train is bringing
you. Has Jim Duff done any work in the last few weeks? While you men
have been toiling and sweating, what has Duff been doing? Hasn't he
been going around wearing the clothes and the air of a gentleman, while
you men have been giving all but your lives for your dollars, while you
have been denied most of the comforts of living. Hasn't Duff been up at
the Mansion House, living on the fat of the land and smiling to himself
every time he thought of you men, who would be ready to hand him all of
your money as soon as it came to you? Is the gambler, who grows fat on