CHAPTER IX
INVITED TO LEAVE CAMP
Lanterns hung here and there on poles lighted the camp. Men who toil hardall day do not usually want a long evening. Many of the men were alreadyinside their tents or shacks, preparing for bed.
At least two hundred, however, were still stirring in the streets of thecamp. Tom led his friends near one of the groups. A warning hiss washeard, and then a man in a remote group, urged by his comrades, rose andstaggered toward a shack. Tom was at the man's side in an instant. Heproved to be an Italian.
"My man, you appear to be intoxicated," Tom remarked, quietly, as hegripped the Italian by the arm.
"No spikka da English," hiccoughed the laborer. As he spoke he tried tofree himself from the engineer's grasp. He staggered, and would havefallen, had not Tom prevented the fall.
"Where's this man's gang-master?" Tom demanded, looking about him sharply,while he still held the drunken man.
None of the Italians addressed appeared to know. For the most part theytook refuge in the fact or the pretense that they didn't understandEnglish.
"Get an Italian gang-master, Harry," Tom murmured softly.
Hazelton bolted away, but was soon back, followed by a dark-skinned man whocame with apparent reluctance.
"You're a gang-master?" Tom demanded, looking sharply at the man. "Thisfellow is intoxicated."
"Is he?" asked the gang-master.
"Yes, he is," Tom declared, bluntly. "Now, where did the man get theliquor."
"I do not know," replied the gang-master, shrugging his shoulders.
"Then it's your business to know---if he got his liquor in camp. We won'tallow any of that stuff in camp, and you gang-masters all know that."
"I can't stop a man from going to town to get liquor," argued thegang-master.
"No; you can't," Tom admitted. "Neither can I. But it's your duty,gang-master, to see that no liquor is brought back into camp. This manhasn't been to town for the stuff either. He hasn't had time enough to goaway over to Blixton and get enough liquor to make him drunk. Moreover,in his present condition, the fellow couldn't have walked back from townthe same evening. This man got his liquor in camp, and it will have to bestopped. Now, put this man in his shack; see that he gets into bed. Thencome back to me."
The gang-master obeyed.
"We'll see if we can't put a complete stop to this sort of thing," Reademuttered.
"Now, do you think it's going to be well to interfere so much with themovements of the men?" asked President Bascomb, in an undertone. "I amafraid that you'll only start more dissatisfaction and more treachery amongthem."
"This having liquor in camp is going to be stopped, sir," Tom insisted."A keg of liquor will demoralize a whole campful of men like these. Theyare an excitable lot, and they go crazy when there's any liquor around. Ifwe don't put a stop to it, then there'll be fights, and then a few murdersare most likely to follow. I've had plenty of experience with men such aswe have here, and the stopping of liquor in camp means our only safety, andour only chance to have our work well done. Come along; let thegang-master follow us."
Tom went directly up to a group of workmen who had been looking curiouslyon. Most of them were Italians, but there were a few negroes present.
"Now; men, gather around me," Tom requested. "I want to talk to you.Come close."
As they did so Reade rested a hand on the shoulder of a negro.
"My friend," said Tom, "you've been drinking to-night."
"No, sah, boss! 'Deed I hasn't," replied the negro, earnestly.
"Man, don't you think I have a nose?" Tom demanded, dryly. "Every time youopen your mouth I smell the fumes of the stuff. There are other men inthis group, too, who have been drinking. I want you all to realize thatthis sort of thing must stop in this camp. We don't want fights andkillings, nor do we want men who wake up so seedy in the morning that theycan't do a proper day's work. As I look about me I see at least eight menwho have been drinking this evening. That shows me that some one has beenbringing liquor into the camp."
Other workmen were now approaching, curious to know what was in the air.
Tom, glancing about him, suddenly, fastened his gaze on one man inparticular. This was a lanky, sallow-looking chap of some thirty years.
"See here, just what is your errand in this camp?" Reade demanded,confronting the man.
"Is it any of your particular business?" demanded the fellow, with someinsolence in his tone.
"Yes; it is," Reade assured him, promptly. "I'm chief engineer in thiscamp, and I've asked you what you are doing here!"
"Is it against any law for an outsider to come into camp?" argued thestranger.
"Answer me," Tom insisted, stepping closer. "What are you doing in thiscamp?"
"I won't tell you," came the surly retort.
"You don't have to," Reade snapped, as he suddenly ran one hand over thesallow man's clothing. Out of the fellow's hip pocket Tom briskly broughta quart-bottle to light. It was about half-filled with some liquid.
"Here, give that back to me!" growled the fellow. "It's mine."
"I'm glad you admit it," rejoined Reade, drawing the cork and taking asniff as Hazelton slipped in front of him to protect him. "This is liquor.So you're the bootlegger who is bringing this stuff into camp to sell tothe men? You won't come here after to-night if I can find any way ofkeeping you out."
Reade finished his remark by re-corking the bottle and throwing it downhard on the ground. The bottle was smashed to flinders, the liquor runningover the ground.
"Here, you! You had no right to do that!" roared the fellow. He made aneffort to reach Tom, but Harry gave the fellow a shove that sent himspinning back. "You'll pay me for that stuff, Reade, since you destroyedit."
"How much?" asked Tom, artlessly.
"A dollar and a half," insisted the stranger, coming forward as Readethrust one hand into trousers pocket.
Tom withdrew the hand, laughing.
"Much obliged, my friend," mocked the young chief engineer. "You'veconfessed all that I wanted to know. You've tried to charge me the priceof a pint of liquor sold in single drinks. That confesses that you've beenin camp to sell liquor to the men. I shall pay you nothing, for you'rehere against the law and against the camp regulations. You're engaged inselling liquor illegally. If I catch you in camp again on that business,my friend, I'll arrest you and hold you until the officers come over fromBlixton and take you."
Then, in the next moment, Tom suddenly shot out:
"Harry, see to it that our friend doesn't run away just yet!"
"What are you up to?" demanded the man, as Tom stepped close once more,while Harry rested a hand on his shoulder.
"For a rather warm evening," Reade rejoined, "it strikes me that it's a bitodd for you to be wearing a long top-coat. I'm going to look you over abit."
"You get out and keep away from me!" blustered the man, raising one of hisfists. But Harry caught at that arm and held it. Treasurer Prenter, whohad been looking on with keen interest, seized the other arm.
"You let go of me, or you'll run up against the law for assault!" warnedthe stranger.
His captors, however, held him, while Tom rapidly ran his hands over thestranger's clothing. As a result, within less than a full minute, Tom hadremoved two full quart bottles and six smaller ones from the fellow'svarious pockets. All of these the young chief engineer threw on theground, smashing them.
From the crowd gathered about, which numbered more than sixty men of threedifferent races, a howl went up. President Bascomb began to shiver.
"I'll make you sweat for this!" raved the stranger.
"Let go of the fellow, please," said Tom. Then, as Harry and Mr. Prenterstepped aside, Reade added, "I'll admit, Mr. Bootleg, that I've behaved ina rather high-handed fashion with you. But I'm justified in doing it. Youhave been breaking the law of the state, moving through this camp andselling liquor. You represent the scum of the otherwis
e decent populationof Alabama. If you think you've any redress in the courts, my name isReade and you can hire a lawyer and get after me as hard and as fast asyou like."
"I'll take personal satisfaction out of you!" stormed the fellow.
"All right," Tom agreed laconically. "You may start now, if you feel likedoing it. I'll agree that none of my friends or workmen shall take anypart in anything you feel like starting. If you can thrash me then youshall be allowed to depart in peace after you've done it."
Tom did not put up his hands, though he watched keenly to see whether thestranger meant to attack him. The stranger muttered unintelligiblethreats, then he turned to the laborers pressing about him.
"Men," he demanded, "are you going to be free, or are you going to allowyourselves to be treated like a lot of slaves by this boy?"
"If that's all you've got to say," Tom warned "you may as well start now."
"Start?" scoffed the sallow-faced one. "Where to?"
"Anywhere, outside of this camp," Tom informed him. "You can't stay hereany longer, and you can't come here again. If I catch you, again, on thiscompany's property, I'll see to it that you're arrested, and locked up fortrespass."
"That's the way to talk!" nodded Treasurer Prenter, approvingly.
"I guess I'll go when I get good and ready," asserted the stranger.
In the front ranks of the crowd pressing around them, Reade now discernedthe face of the Italian gang-master with whom he had talked recently.
"What's your name?" Tom demanded, turning about on the gang-master.
"Scipio, sir."
"Then, Scipio, take four men, and escort this fellow out of the camp.Don't use any force unless you have to, but see to it that this fellowleaves camp as quickly as he can walk---or be dragged. Start him now."
Gang-master Scipio plainly didn't like the job, but he liked it better thanhe did the idea of being discharged. So he spoke to four Italians abouthim, and the five surrounded the man.
"Hol' on dar, Boss Reade!" spoke up a negro. "Ef yo' carry dis matter toofar, den dere's gwine to be a strike on dis wohk. Jess ez dis gemman sez,we ain't no slaves. Yo' try to stop all our pleasures ebenings, an' dar'sgwine be a strike---shuah!"
"You may strike right now, if you wish to," Tom retorted, facing the lastspeaker. "Mr. Renshaw will be prepared to pay you off within hour. Anyother man in this camp who isn't content to get along without liquor andgambling may as well strike at the same time. Mr. Renshaw, it's half-pasteight. At nine o'clock please be at the house ready to pay off any man whoisn't satisfied to live and work in a camp where neither drinking norgambling is allowed. Scipio, why haven't you started that fellow away fromhere?"
"Too bigga crowd in front of us," replied the Italian gang-master,shrugging his shoulders.
"Come on, Harry," Tom replied. "We'll see if we can't make a way throughthe crowd." The two young engineers placed themselves at the head of thesquad, and succeeded quickly in opening up a passage through a crowd thatseemed to be at least half hostile.
Thus Tom found himself soon face to face with an American.
"Evarts!" Reade cried, angrily. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here by permission," snarled the discharged foreman.
"Whose permission?" Tom insisted, briskly.
"Mr. Bascomb's," replied Evarts, with a leer so full of satisfaction thatReade didn't doubt the truth of the statement.
"Mr. Bascomb," Tom called, "did you tell Evarts that he might visit thiscamp?"
"Yes; I did," admitted the president of the company, stiffly.
"Then I'm sorry to say that Evarts has been misinformed," Tom went on."He _can't_ visit this camp. He's too much of a trouble-maker here."
"Shut up your talk!" jeered Evarts roughly. "Don't try to give orders tothe president of the company that hires and pays you."
"Mr. Bascomb is the head of the company that employs me," Tom assented."But I am in charge here, and am responsible, with Mr. Hazelton, for thegood order of the camp and the success of the work. Therefore, Evarts,you'll leave camp now, and you won't come back again under pain of beingpunished for trespass."
"Oh, now see here, Reade---" began Mr. Bascomb angrily, as he startedforward. But Treasurer Prenter caught Bascomb by the arm, whispering inhis ear.
"Waiting for you, Mr. Bascomb," called Evarts.
"I guess you'd better go," called the president, rather shamefacedly, afterhis talk with Mr. Prenter. "I guess maybe Reade is right. At all eventshis contract places him in charge of this camp."
"Humph, Evarts, a lot of good you can do us here, can't you?" sneered thesallow-faced fellow.
Tom looked first at one, and then at the other of the pair.
"So," guessed Reade shrewdly, "Evarts has been at the head of this game ofunlawful liquor selling in this camp. There are other vendors here, too,are there?"
"You lie!" yelled the discharged foreman.
"You may prove that, at your convenience," Reade replied, without even aheightening of his color. "For the present, though, you're going to getout of camp and stay out."
"I called you a liar," sneered Evarts, "and you haven't the sand to fightabout it."
"Fighting with one of your stripe isn't worth the while," Tom retorted,shortly. "Come along, Evarts. I'll show you the way out of camp."
As Reade spoke he took hold of the ex-foreman's arm gently.
"Leggo of me!" raged the foreman, clenching and raising one of his fists.
"Don't make the mistake of touching me," urged Tom, quietly, "but comealong. This way out of camp!"
Evarts swung suddenly, driving a fist straight at Reade's face. But theyoung chief engineer was always alert at such times. One of his feet movedin between Evarts's feet, and the ex-foreman flopped down on his back.
"Come on, now!" commanded Tom, jerking the fallen foe to his feet. "Thistime you'll hurry out of camp."
"Are you going to stand for it, men?" yelled Evarts, his face aflame withanger. "Come on---all of you! Show that you're not a pack of cowards andslaves!"
From more than a hundred throats came an ominous yell. The crowd surgedaround Reade and Hazelton. Mr. Bascomb, seeing his chance, dodged and ranout of the crowd. But Mr. Prenter, with a spring, placed himself at TomReade's side.
"Come on, men!" yelled the sallow-faced fellow.
"Run dem w'ite slave-drivers outah camp!" yelled a score of negroes. Yellsin Italian and Portuguese also filled the air.
In an instant it was plain that Tom Reade had stirred up more than ahornet's nest.
"Come on, Harry," spoke Tom, firmly. "Let's run this pair out of camp.Then we'll come back and look for more trouble-makers and trouble-hunters!Make way there, men!"
One excitable Italian rushed through the crowd, brandishing a revolver. Asalarmed men fell back, the Italian confronted Reade, holding the revolveralmost in the latter's face and firing.
The Young Engineers on the Gulf Page 9
