soon back, followed by a dark-skinned man who
came with apparent reluctance.

"You're a gang-master?" Tom demanded, looking sharply at the man. "This
fellow is intoxicated."

"Is he?" asked the gang-master.

"Yes, he is," Tom declared, bluntly. "Now, where did the man get the
liquor."

"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't
allow 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 the
gang-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 man
hasn't been to town for the stuff either. He hasn't had time enough to go
away over to Blixton and get enough liquor to make him drunk. Moreover,
in his present condition, the fellow couldn't have walked back from town
the same evening. This man got his liquor in camp, and it will have to be
stopped. Now, put this man in his shack; see that he gets into bed. Then
come back to me."

The gang-master obeyed.

"We'll see if we can't put a complete stop to this sort of thing," Reade
muttered.

"Now, do you think it's going to be well to interfere so much with the
movements of the men?" asked President Bascomb, in an undertone. "I am
afraid that you'll only start more dissatisfaction and more treachery among
them."

"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. They
are an excitable lot, and they go crazy when there's any liquor around. If
we don't put a stop to it, then there'll be fights, and then a few murders
are most likely to follow. I've had plenty of experience with men such as
we have here, and the stopping of liquor in camp means our only safety, and
our only chance to have our work well done. Come along; let the
gang-master follow us."

Tom went directly up to a group of workmen who had been looking curiously
on. 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?"