All of these the young chief engineer threw on the
ground, smashing them.
From the crowd gathered about, which numbered more than sixty men of three
different races, a howl went up. President Bascomb began to shiver.
"I'll make you sweat for this!" raved the stranger.
"Let go of the fellow, please," said Tom. Then, as Harry and Mr. Prenter
stepped aside, Reade added, "I'll admit, Mr. Bootleg, that I've behaved in
a rather high-handed fashion with you. But I'm justified in doing it. You
have been breaking the law of the state, moving through this camp and
selling liquor. You represent the scum of the otherwise decent population
of Alabama. If you think you've any redress in the courts, my name is
Reade and you can hire a lawyer and get after me as hard and as fast as
you like."
"I'll take personal satisfaction out of you!" stormed the fellow.
"All right," Tom agreed laconically. "You may start now, if you feel like
doing it. I'll agree that none of my friends or workmen shall take any
part in anything you feel like starting. If you can thrash me then you
shall be allowed to depart in peace after you've done it."
Tom did not put up his hands, though he watched keenly to see whether the
stranger meant to attack him.
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