“Nothing like it,” Tom laughed.  “Peters, we have plenty of really good men among our laborers, haven’t we?”

“Scores and scores of ’em, sir—–­among all three kinds of the men, negroes, Italians and Portuguese.”

“I wish you would go back, then, and pick out two of each race—–­six men in all.  They must be honest, staunch and able to hold their tongues.”

“Do you want them for fighting, sir?” asked Peters.

“Not a bit of a fight in it.  I want them to use their eyes and report to me.”

“Going to employ spotters on the camp?” asked Mr. Prenter, quickly.

“Not a single spot!” Tom declared with emphasis.  “I haven’t any use for information turned in by spotters.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Reade,” nodded the treasurer.

“What I want the men for, Peters, is something honest and manly, and with no fighting in it,” Tom continued.  “I want information, and I’ll pay the man well who can bring it to me.  Now, go and get your six men.  Bring them up to the house within half an hour.”

Nodding, Peters turned and strode back.

When the others gained the house where the engineers and superintendent lived the foremen took leave of their chiefs.

As Tom, Harry and Mr. Prenter went up the steps to the porch the front door opened to let out Mr. Bascomb.

“Is that revolting row all over?” demanded the president of the Melliston Company.

“What row?” asked Mr. Prenter, innocently.

“That riot back in camp,” shivered Mr. Bascomb.  “I simply abhor all fighting.”

“So I noticed,” commented Mr. Prenter, dryly.  “Yes; I believe the trouble is over, unless our young chief engineer intends to stir up something new before bedtime.  Do you, Reade?”

“I haven’t anything in mind,” Tom answered with a smile.  “Gentlemen, I am afraid you may think I do things with a high hand.  But I have been at this engineering business just long enough to know that I must banish all serious vices from a camp of laborers if I hope to get the best results in work out of the men.  So I must tackle some problems rather stiffly, and use my fists when I’m driven to a corner.”

“I am not thoroughly satisfied of the wisdom of your course,” said Mr. Bascomb slowly.

“Sorry to disagree with you, Bascomb,” broke in the treasurer, “but I’ve had some experience in handling what is called wild labor, and I believe that Reade goes at it in just the right way.  I don’t believe there are really fifty really wild or troublesome men in that camp.  The few bad ones usually start trouble going, and then the good ones are driven into it.  Let Reade stop the vices over yonder, in the way that he wants to, and the worst of the crowd will call for their time and leave camp.  We shall then have a thoroughly good lot of men left, who’ll do more and better work.”

“That is,” almost whined President Bascomb, “if Reade, in doing what he wants, doesn’t stir up so much enmity that we have the rest of our wall blown out into the gulf.”