or themselves in their
evening hours."

Tom stared at the speaker in undisguised amazement.

"But, Mr. Bascomb, the men are shamelessly robbed by the sharpers who come
here to gamble with them."

"That's the men's own affair," scoffed the president. "Anyway, they have
a right to pitch away their wages if they want to. Reade, when you're as
old as I am you will understand that workmen who throw away their money
make the best workmen. They never have any savings, hence they must make
every effort to keep their jobs. A workman with savings becomes too
independent."

"I am certain you have seen more of the world than I have, Mr. Bascomb,"
Reade replied, respectfully. "At the same time I can't agree with you on
the point you have just stated. A workman with a bank account has always
a greater amount of self-respect, and a man who has self-respect is bound
to make a good citizen and a good workman. But there are still other
reasons why I had the gamblers chased out. Gambling here in the camp would
always create a great deal of disorder. Disorder destroys discipline, and
a camp like this, in order to give the best results in the way of work,
must have discipline. Moreover, the men, when gambling, remain up until
all hours of the night. A man who has been up most of the night can't give
an honest day's work in return for his wages. Unless the men get their
sleep and are kept in good condition we can't get the work out of them that
we have a right to expect."

"The right man can _drive_ workmen," declared Mr. Bascomb, with emphasis.
"You'll have to drive your men. Get all the work out of them, but drop at
once this foolish policy of interfering with what they do after the whistle
blows. We can't have any more of this nonsense. It costs too much. By
the way, how much will it cost to repair the damage to the retaining
walls?"

"About eight thousand dollars, sir, if my first figuring was correct," was
Reade's answer.

"Eight thousand dollars!" scowled President Bascomb. "Now, Reade, doesn't
that amount of wanton, revengeful mischief teach you the folly of trying to
regulate camp life outside of working hours?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't, sir."

"Then you must be a fool, Reade!"

"Thank you, sir. I will add that you're not the first man who has
suspected it."

"You will, therefore, Reade," continued Mr. Bascomb, with his grandest air
of authority, "cause it to become known throughout the camp that you ar