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"You will, therefore, Reade," continued Mr. Bas...o...b.. with his grandest air of authority, "cause it to become known throughout the camp that you are not going to interfere any further with any form of amus.e.m.e.nt that is brought to the camp evenings by outsiders."
"Is that proposition number two, sir?" queried the young chief engineer.
"It is."
"Then please don't misunderstand me, sir," Reade begged, respectfully, "but it is declined, as is proposition number one."
"Do you mean to say that you are going to go on with your fool way of doing things?"
"Yes, sir---until I am convinced that it is a fool way."
"But I've just told you that it is," snapped Mr. Bas...o...b..
"Then I say it very respectfully, sir, but pardon me for replying that I don't consider the evidence very convincing. I have shown you why I must have good order in the camp, and I have told you that I do not propose to allow gambling or any other disorderly conduct to go on within camp limits.
I can't agree to these things, and then hope to win out by keeping the cost of the work within the appropriation."
"Do you feel that you'll keep within the appropriation by making enemies who deliberately blow up our masonry?" glared Mr. Bas...o...b..
"I doubt if there will be any more expense in that line, sir. I intend to have such a watch kept over the wall as to prevent any further mischief of the kind."
"Watchmen are an item of expense, aren't they?" snorted the president.
"Yes, sir; but next to nothing at all as compared with the mischief they can prevent."
"I have already told you how to prevent the mischief, Reade. Stop all of your foolish nonsense and let the men have their old-time pastimes."
"I can't do it, sir."
"Have you paper, pen and ink here?" thundered Mr. Bas...o...b.. "If so, bring them."
Tom quietly obeyed.
"Reade," again thundered the president of the Melliston Company, "I have had as much of your nonsense as I intend to stand. You are out of here, from this minute. Take that pen and sign your resignation!"
CHAPTER VII
TOM ISN'T AS EASY AS HE LOOKS
"I don't believe I'll do that, sir," murmured Tom, putting down the pen.
"You don't, eh?"
"No, sir."
"Oh, then you'd rather wait and be forced out?"
"How about the contract, sir, between your company and Reade & Hazelton?
Contracts can't be broken as lightly as your words imply."
"I'll break that contract, if I set out to," declared Mr. Bas...o...b.. purpling with half-suppressed rage. "I've every ground for breaking the contract.
You're running things with a high hand here, and disorganizing all our efforts. No contract will stand on presentation of any such evidence as that before a court."
"I am quite willing to leave that to a court, if I have to," Reade rejoined. His tones were decidedly cold. "Mr. Bas...o...b.. even if I were inclined to forfeit the contract I would have no legal right to do so without the approval of my partner, Hazelton."
"Humph! He's dead," snorted the president.
"That yet remains to be proved, sir," Tom answered huskily, his voice breaking slightly at thought of Harry.
"How on earth do you think you could defend a contract against a wealthy company like ours? Why, we could swamp you under our loose change alone.
How much money have you in the world? Two or three thousand dollars, perhaps."
"I've a little more than that," Tom Reade smiled. "For one thing, I'm a third owner in the Ambition mine, on Indian Smoke Range, Nevada, and the Ambition has been a dividend payer almost from the start. Hazelton owns another third of the mine."
"Eh?" gasped Mr. Bas...o...b.. plainly taken aback.
"Oh, we're not millionaires," Tom laughed easily. "Yet I fancy Hazelton and I could raise enough money to fight any breach-of-contract case in court. With a steady-paying mine, you know, we could even discount to some extent the earnings of future years."
"Oh, well, we don't want hard feelings," urged Mr. Bas...o...b.. his manner becoming more peaceable. "The plain truth is, Reade, that we're utterly dissatisfied with your way of managing things here. When you know how the Melliston Company feels toward you, you don't want to be impudent enough to insist on hanging on, do you?"
"I am certain that I speak for my partner, sir, when I state that we won't drop the contract until we have fulfilled it," Tom muttered, coolly, but with great firmness.
"What's all this dispute about anyway, Bas...o...b.." a voice called cheerily from the hallway.
"Oh, it's you, is it, Prenter?" asked Mr. Bas...o...b.. turning and not looking overjoyed at the interruption.
Simon F. Prenter was treasurer of the Melliston Company. Tom had met him at the time of signing the engineers' contract with the company. Now Reade sprang up to place a chair for the new arrival.
"What was all the row about?" Mr. Prenter asked affably. He was a man of about forty-five, rather stout, with light blue eyes that looked at one with engaging candor.
"I have been suggesting to Reade that he might resign," replied Mr.
Bas...o...b.. stiffly.
"Why?" asked Prenter, opening his eyes wider.
"Because he has raised the mischief on this breakwater job. He has all the men by their ears, and the camp in open mutiny."
"So?" asked Mr. Prenter, looking astonished.
"Exactly, and therefore I have called upon the young man to resign."
"And he refuses?" queried the treasurer. "Most astounding obstinacy on the part of so young a man when dealing with his elder."
"I'll try to explain to you, Mr. Prenter," volunteered Reade, "just what I've been trying to tell Mr. Bas...o...b.."
"I don't know that I need trouble you," replied Mr. Prenter, moving so that he stood more behind the irate president. "I overheard what you were telling him."