As Tom, Harry and Mr. Prenter went up the steps to the porch the front door
opened to let out Mr. Bascomb.
"Is that revolting row all over?" demanded the president of the Melliston
Company.
"What row?" asked Mr. Prenter, innocently.
"That riot back in camp," shivered Mr. Bascomb. "I simply abhor all
fighting."
"So I noticed," commented Mr. Prenter, dryly. "Yes; I believe the trouble
is over, unless our young chief engineer intends to stir up something new
before bedtime. Do you, Reade?"
"I haven't anything in mind," Tom answered with a smile. "Gentlemen, I am
afraid you may think I do things with a high hand. But I have been at this
engineering business just long enough to know that I must banish all
serious vices from a camp of laborers if I hope to get the best results in
work out of the men. So I must tackle some problems rather stiffly, and
use my fists when I'm driven to a corner."
"I am not thoroughly satisfied of the wisdom of your course," said Mr.
Bascomb slowly.
"Sorry to disagree with you, Bascomb," broke in the treasurer, "but I've
had some experience in handling what is called wild labor, and I believe
that Reade goes at it in just the right way.
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