that we are very well up in mathematics.
We have had some all-around experience. Here is a letter, sir,
from Price & Conley, of Gridley, in whose offices we have done
quite a bit of work."

Mr. Thurston took the letter courteously, though he did not \
immediately glance at it.

"Country surveyors, these gentlemen, I suppose?" he asked, looking
into Tom's eyes.

"Yes, sir," nodded Reade, "though Mr. Price is also the engineer for
our home county. Both Mr. Price and Mr. Conley paid us the
compliment of saying that we were well fitted to work in a railway
engineering camp."

"Well, we'll try you out, until you either make good or convince
us that you can't," agreed the chief engineer, without any show
of enthusiasm. "You may show them where they are to live, Mr.
Blaisdell, and where they are to mess. In the morning you can
put these young men at some job or other."

The words sounded like a dismissal, but Blaisdell lingered a moment.

"Mr. Thurston," he smiled, "our young men ran, first thing, into
Bad Pete."

"Yes?" inquired the chief. "Did Pete show these young men his
fighting front?"

Blaisdell repeated the dialogue that had taken place between Tom
and Bad Pete.

The chief listened to his assistant in silence. Tom flushed slightly
under the penetrating glance Mr. Thurston cast upon him during
the recital.

When the assistant had finished, the chief merely remarked: "Blaisdell,
I wish you could get rid of that fellow, Bad Pete. I don't like
to have him hanging about the camp. He's an undesirable character,
and I'm afraid that some of our men will have trouble with him.
Can't you get rid of him?"

"I'll do it if you say so, Mr. Thurston," Blaisdell answered quietly.

"How?" inquired his chief.

"I'll serve out firearms to five or six of the men, and the next
time Pete shows his face we'll cover him and march him miles away
from camp."

"That wouldn't do any good," replied Mr. Thurston, with a shake
of his head. "Pete would only come back, uglier than before,
and he'd certainly shoot up some of our men."

"You asked me, a moment ago, Mr. Thurston, what I could do," Tom
broke in. "Give me a little time, and I'll agree to rid the camp
of Peter."

"How?" asked the chief abruptly. "Not with any gun-play! Pete
would be too quick for you at anything of that sort."

"I don't carry a pistol, and don't wish to do so," Tom retorted.
"In my opinion only a coward carries a pistol."

"Then you t