I want you all to realize that
this sort of thing must stop in this camp. We don't want fights and
killings, nor do we want men who wake up so seedy in the morning that they
can't do a proper day's work. As I look about me I see at least eight men
who have been drinking this evening. That shows me that some one has been
bringing liquor into the camp."
Other workmen were now approaching, curious to know what was in the air.
Tom, glancing about him, suddenly, fastened his gaze on one man in
particular. This was a lanky, sallow-looking chap of some thirty years.
"See here, just what is your errand in this camp?" Reade demanded,
confronting the man.
"Is it any of your particular business?" demanded the fellow, with some
insolence in his tone.
"Yes; it is," Reade assured him, promptly. "I'm chief engineer in this
camp, and I've asked you what you are doing here!"
"Is it against any law for an outsider to come into camp?" argued the
stranger.
"Answer me," Tom insisted, stepping closer. "What are you doing in this
camp?"
"I won't tell you," came the surly retort.
"You don't have to," Reade snapped, as he suddenly ran one hand over the
sallow man's clothing.
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