lp me,
though as yet I'm ignorant of how it all came about."

Nor was it until the next day that Tom Reade learned from Hazelton just
what had caused the laborers to tumble out of their beds and rush into
town to serve him.

That night Tim Griggs had been prowling about the streets of Paloma,
suspicious of Reade's enemies, and watching for the safety of the
young chief engineer who had saved him from the savage appetite of the
Man-killer quicksand.

It had chanced that Tim had caught a glimpse of the finish of the fight
on the street, and was just in time to see the young chief engineer
lifted and carried into that unoccupied house, the property of the hotel
man, Ashby.

Tim's first instinct had been to seek help in town--in that very
neighborhood. Tim was suspicious, and afraid that he might by mistake
appeal to some of Tom's enemies.

So, while running through the streets searching for Hazelton, Tim had
espied an automobile standing idle in front of a house. Having some
acquaintance with automobiles, Tim had cranked up and leaped into
the vehicle, speeding straight to camp, where he gave the alarm. Men
answered by hundreds, Mendoza keeping his Mexicans in camp to watch the
property there.

Harry was aroused by the tumult, for he had just gone to his room,
intending to turn in.

Having roused the camp, Tim ran the car back to town at the head of the
swarming little army and returned to the spot where he had seized the
automobile.

"It's all over now, old fellow," Tom declared to his chum cheerily,
rising from his office chair as one of the whistles blew and the men
knocked off for their noonday meal. "What happened last night won't
happen again."

"Just the same, Tom, I almost wish you'd carry a pistol after this,"
Harry remarked, as the two engineers went to their horses, mounted and
started toward town for their own meal.

"Bosh!" almost snapped Tom. "You know my opinion of pistols. They are
for policemen, soldiers and others who have real need to go armed. Only
a coward would pack a pistol day by day without needing it."

So the matter was dropped for the time being.

At the hotel Tom and Harry went to their accustomed seats in the dining
room. Their food was brought and the two young engineers fell to work
cheerfully. Just then a well-dressed man of perhaps thirty years entered
the dining, room, spoke to one of the waiters, and came over to the
engineers' table.

"Messrs. Reade and Hazelton?" he