n exultant yell
came from him.

"Hustle, Tar---and shoot straight! Here are the very people we want---I
caught sight of them!"

"Den watch me!" chuckled Sambo Ebony, flourishing his weapon and dashing
forward in the tracks of Evarts.

There was no time for the chums to rise and dart away.

CHAPTER XXII

MR. BASCOMB HEARS BAD NEWS

When Evarts used the word "people" he employed it only in a general sense.
He had seen no one but Tom Reade, but Tom was the one person in the world
whom the ex-foreman wanted most to 'see' at a disadvantage.

"Now, I have you!" Evarts croaked hoarsely, rushing in, flourishing his
weapon, then letting the muzzle drop to the position of aim.

Dick Prescott, unseen, stirred almost under the fellow's feet.

Flop! Bump! Caught by the legs, by that famous football player, Dick
Prescott, Evarts simply had to go down on his back.

In the same instant Reade leaped, then bent over the prostrate foe.

Evarts was too much dazed to resist much. Tom snatched the revolver out
of his hand.

Sambo, beholding this much, came to a dismayed stop for an instant.

"Dick, it's your trade to know how to handle this tool better than I can,"
Tom cried, passing the captured revolver to Prescott, who swiftly received
it as he rose. "I'm afraid," continued the young engineer, "that it's
going to be necessary to kill the negro."

"Wow! Woof!" uttered Sambo Ebony. It didn't take that villain an instant
to decide on flight. Bending low, the black man ran off with frantic
speed.

Dick took a step forward---only one, for Evarts furiously gripped at one
of the young army officer's ankles, bringing him down to his knees.

"Hang you, you hound!" ground out Tom, in a rage, as he threw himself
athwart of the ex-foreman. Within the next thirty seconds Evarts received
a swift, fearful pummeling.

"Let up, Mr. Reade! Let up!" cried the wretch. "I'll behave myself."

"I'll wager you will," retorted the young engineer grimly, as he gripped
Evarts by the coat collar and drew him to his feet.

Dick was up and had run ahead some distance. But the time that had been
gained for the black man had proved sufficient. Sambo, was now out of
sight, nor did he send back any sound to guide his pursuers.

"It may have to be a long hunt for the negro," remarked Tom Reade when
Lieutenant Dick stepped back to state the case. "Stand by me and shoot
this fellow down in his tracks if he tries to get away."