"Looks as orderly as a camp-meeting," declared Lieutenant Prescott. "I'm
glad to see, Tom, that you're for the decent camp every time."
"The decent camp is the only kind that contains efficient workmen for
engineering jobs," Reade answered dryly.
Presently they strolled out of camp, on the farther side. This was what
the young engineer really wanted to do---to vanish suddenly, in a fashion
that would not be likely to be noted by hostile eyes. Now Reade and his
army chum proceeded softly, and without words. Through the deep woods Tom
was heading for the spot where he had found the magneto.
Sambo Ebony was at large, and Tom believed that other things than the
magneto had been concealed at this spot. If Sambo intended any further
assaults on the retaining wall he would be quite likely to come this way.
So here Tom Reade was resolved to remain and watch, even if he had to put
in most of the night there.
Behind some bushes he and Dick found a hiding place looking out upon the
scene of the late conflict with "Mr. Ebony."
Without even whispered conversation time dragged slowly. More than an hour
dragged by, and both watchers were beginning to feel decidedly bored.
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