he noon signal.

"Feel like eating, Harry?" Tom called to his chum, who had been mildly
dozing in a chair in one corner of the room.

"Always," declared Hazelton, sitting up and yawning.

"Are you going to eat in town this noon, or in camp?" Tom inquired of
the superintendent of construction.

Hawkins was about to answer that he'd eat in camp, when he suddenly
reconsidered.

"I guess I'll ride along with you, Mr. Reade," he said dryly.

Horses were brought, and the three mounted and rode away. In such
sizzling heat as beat down from the noonday sun Tom had not the heart to
urge his mount to speed. The trio were soon at the edge of Paloma, which
they had to enter through one of the streets occupied by the rougher
characters.

Just as they rode down by the first buildings a low whistle sounded on
the heavy, dead air.

"Signal that the locomotive is headed this way," announced Hawkins
grimly. "Look out for the crossing, Mr. Reade!"

Hardly had the superintendent finished speaking when a sharp hiss
sounded from an open window. Then another and more hisses, from
different buildings.

"A few snakes left in the grass," Tom remarked jokingly.

"Oh, you've stirred up a nest of 'em, Mr. Reade," rejoined the
superintendent.

Tom laughed as Harry added:

"Let's hope that there are no poisonous reptiles among them. It would be
rough on poisonous snakes to have Tom find them."

Then the three horsemen turned the corner near the Mansion House.
Superintendent Hawkins looked grave as he noted a crowd before the
hotel.

"Mr. Reade, I believe those men are there waiting to see you. I'm
certain they've not gathered just to talk about the weather."

There was a movement in the crowd, and a suppressed, surly murmur, as
the engineer party was sighted.

Tom Reade, however, rode forward at the head of his party, alighting
close to the crowd, which numbered fifty or sixty men. The young chief
engineer signed to one of the stable boys, who came forward, half
reluctantly, and took the bridles of the three horses to lead them away.

Jim Duff, backed by three other men, stepped forward. There was a world
of menace in the gambler's wicked eyes as he began, in a soft, almost
purring tone:

"Mr. Reade," announced Jim Duff, "we are a committee, appointed by
citizens, to express our belief that the air of Paloma is not going to
be good for you. At the same time we wish to ask you concerning your
plans for leaving the town."

T