Then, too, another element entered into the fight. While there were some
wild and troublesome men in camp, there were also many straightforward,
excellent fellows among them. There were church-going negroes there,
Italians who were thrifty and law-abiding, and Portuguese who loved nothing
better than law and order.
The better element among the men came thronging forward, willing and ready
to fight under such excellent generalship as they knew they would find with
Tom Reade.
Other men, of both stripes, came pouring forth from shanties and tents.
The yells and the shot had alarmed the foremen, who now came along on
the run.
"Dill, Johnson!" Tom called, as he saw some of the foremen trying to push
or punch their way through the throng. "Help me to run Evarts and this
other trouble-hunter out of the camp!"
The menacing yells grew fewer and fainter as the cheers of loyal laborers
rose.
The foremen seized both trouble makers and began to run them along with
more skill than gentleness.
Tom ran along, keeping his glance on the enraged men of the camp, many of
whom followed on the outskirts of the crowd. Harry Hazelton occupied
himself in similar fashion.
"Now, you get out of this---and stay out!" ordered Foreman Dill, giving
Evarts a shove that sent him spinning across the boundary line of the
company's property.
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