"They're insane, these people," was Tom's inward comment. "Let this crowd
of scoundrels shoot up the jail guards, and do they think the citizens
would ever allow the gang to operate in camp? There'd be more likelihood
of the known members of the gang being lynched!"
"I won't go back to jail if I can help it," laughed Evarts, speaking to
the negro. "As soon as I even up one or two grudges I'm going to slip
away."
"Break yo' bail?" asked the negro, showing his teeth.
"That's about the size of it," nodded Evarts.
"Den de w'ite gemman who done fu'nish yo' bond will be feelin' bad, won't
he?"
"Let him---he's no friend of mine," grunted the discharged foreman.
"Maybe yo'd like de job ob tendin' to Boss Reade yo'so'f?" hinted Sambo
darkly.
"Oh, I'm going to settle with Reade in some fashion," boasted Evarts with
a leer. "I don't know that I want to kill him. I'd rather cripple him
and let him live a life of misery."
"Thank you!" thought Tom from his hiding place.
"There's another chap we'll have to deal with, too, I'm thinking," Evarts
went on. "Reade and Hazelton have a friend of theirs here, and he's
likely to make some trouble for us. He's an army officer.
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