"Only when on duty," Dick informed him.
Nicolas wistfully watched Reade out of sight. The Mexican had been ordered
to remain at home to-night, and on no account to think of following his
employer. That didn't at all agree with the faithful fellow's wishes.
"They'll be sure to get into some trouble, Senor Hazelton," Nicolas
said mournfully. "I should be on their flank, watching over them."
"You don't know Gridley boys," laughed Harry, "if you don't understand
that Dick Prescott and Tom Reade, together, are a hard team to beat."
In the meantime Tom led the way down to the camp of workmen. Reade
stopped to speak with one of his reliable negroes, whom he found softly
strumming a banjo under a tree.
"Are there any visitors in camp to-night who shouldn't be here?" asked Tom.
"I doan' beliebe so, boss," replied the colored man. "Dem gamblers an'
bootleggers ain' done got bail yet, has they, sah?"
"I don't believe they have," replied Tom. "There are no others of their
kind here, then?"
"I doan' beliebe so, sah."
Tom and Dick strolled through the camp, but all was quiet there. Many of
the men were outside their shacks or tents, smoking and waiting for
turning-in time to come.
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