om, with a sense of good manners, approached
from the side that he might not appear to be peeping in on the
occupants of the building. Gaining the side of the doorway, with
Harry just behind him, Reade knocked softly.

"Quit yer kidding, whoever it is, and come in," called a rough
voice.

Tom thereupon stepped inside. What he saw filled him with surprise.
Around the room were three or four tables. There were many utensils
hanging on the walls. There were two stoves, with a man bending
over one of them and stirring something in a pot.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Tom. "I thought I'd find Mr. Timothy
Thurston, the chief engineer, here."

"Nope," replied a stout, red-faced man of forty, in flannel shirt
and khaki trousers. "Mr. Thurston never eats between meals, and
when he does eat he's served in his own mess tent. Whatcher want
here, pardner?"

"We're under orders to report to him," Tom answered politely.

"New men in the chain gang?" asked the cook, swinging around to
look at the newcomers.

"Maybe," Reade assented. "That will depend on the opinion that
Mr. Thurston forms of us after he knows us a little while. I
believe the man in New York said we were to be assistant engineers."

"There's only one assistant engineer here," announced the cook.
"The other engineers are Just plain surveyors or levelers."

"Well, we won't quarrel about titles," Tom smilingly assured the
cook. "Will you please tell us where Mr. Thurston is?"

"He's in his tent over yonder," said the cook, pointing through
the open doorway.

"Shall we step over there and announce ourselves?" Tom inquired.

"Why, ye could do it," rejoined the red-faced cook, with a grin.
"If Tim Thurston happens to be very busy he might use plain talk
and tell you to git out of camp."

"Then do you mind telling us just how we should approach the chief
engineer?"

"Whatter yer names?"

"Reade and Hazelton."

"Bob, trot over and tell Thurston there's two fellows here, named
Reade and Hazelnut. Ask him what he wants done with 'em."

The cook's helper, who, so far, had not favored the new arrivals
with a glance, now turned and looked them over. Then, with a
nod, the helper stepped across the ground to the largest tent
in camp. In a few moments he came back.

"Mr. Thurston says to stay around and he'll call you jest as soon
as he's through with what he's doing," announced Bob, who, dark,
thin and anemic, was a decrepit-looking man of fifty