Tom didn’t sleep that night.
He sat by, silently, in the big tent, nursing the
patient as Dr. Gitney directed.
In the morning, at five, Matt Rice
came. Tom gladly surrendered the post to him
and took a scant hour of deep slumber on the bare
ground outside.
“Wake up, Reade,” ordered
Rutter, at last shaking the cub and hauling him to
his feet. “This is no place to sleep.
Go to your tent and stretch out full length on your
cot.”
“On my cot?” demanded
Tom, rubbing his eyes fiercely. “You can’t
spare me from the day’s work?”
“I don’t believe there
will be any day’s work,” Rutter answered.
“You’re in charge, man!
You must put us to work,” Tom insisted.
“I don’t know just what
ought to be done,” complained Rutter. “I
shall have to wait for orders.”
“Orders?” repeated Tom,
in almost breathless scorn. “From whom
can you get orders?”
“Howe is Thurston’s assistant
at the lower camp,” Rutter rejoined. “He’ll
have to come over here and take real charge.
I’m going to send a messenger to the telegraph
station and wire Mr. Howe to come here at once.”
“See here, Rutter,” blazed
Tom insistently, “Mr Howe is in charge of the
construction forces. He’s laying the bed
and the tracks. He can’t be spared from
the construction work for even a day, or the road
will fail to get through, no matter what we do here.
Man, you’ve simply got to be up and doing!
Make some mistakes, if you have to, but don’t
lie down and kill the S.B. & L. with inaction.”
“Cub,” laughed Rutter
good-humoredly, “you speak as if this were a
big personal matter with you.”
“Oh, isn’t it, thought”
retorted Tom Reade with spirit. “My whole
heart is centered on seeing the S.B. & L. win out within
the time granted by its charter. Rutter, if
you don’t take hold with a rush and make a live,
galloping start with your new responsibilities, I’m
afraid I’ll go wild and assault you violently!”
“Ha, ha, ha!” Jack laughed loudly.
“Here, stop that cackling,”
ordered Reade in the same low voice that he had been
using. “Let’s get away from the chief’s
tent. We’ll disturb him with our noise.”
Dr. Gitney, entering the big tent
five minutes later, found Mr. Thurston very much awake,
for he had heard the low-voiced conversation outside
the tent. Mr. Thurston was not quite as ill as
was Blaisdell, and had not as yet reached the stage
of delirium.
“Doctor, I want you to summon
the engineer corps here,” begged the patient.
“When you’re better,”
replied the doctor, with a hand on the sick man’s
pulse.
“Doc, you’d better let
me have my way,” insisted Mr. Thurston in a
weak voice. “If you don’t, you’ll
make me five times more ill than I am at present.”
Watching the fever glow in the man’s
face deepen, and feeling the pulse go up several beats
per minute, Dr. Gitney replied:
“There, there, Thurston.
Be good, and I’ll let you have three minutes
with your engineers.”
“That’s all I ask,” murmured the
sick man eagerly.
Dr. Gitney went outside and rounded
them up. All were present except ’Gene
Black, who, according to Matt Rice, had taken a little
walk outside of camp.
“I hope you’ll soon be
better, sir,” began Rutter, as the engineers
gathered at the cot of their stricken chief.
“Don’t say anything unnecessary,
and don’t waste my time,” begged Mr. Thurston.
“Rutter, do you feel equal to running this field
corps until either Blaisdell or I can take charge again?”
“No, I don’t chief,”
replied Jack. “I’ve sent a wire to
Howe, urging him to come here and take charge.”
“Howe can’t come,”
replied the chief. “If he does, the construction
work will go to pieces. This corps will have
to be led by someone now present.”
Morris and Rice gazed eagerly at their
chief. Butter showed his relief at being allowed
to hack out from full control.
As for Timothy Thurston, he let his
gaze wander from face to face.
“Reade!” he almost whispered.
“Yes, sir!” answered Tom,
stepping gently forward. “What can I do
for you, sir?”
“Reade,” came in another
whisper, “can you –have you
the courage to take the post of acting chief?”
Several gasps of astonishment broke
on the air, but the greatest gasp of all came from
Reade himself.
“I think you need a little sleep now, sir,”
urged Tom.
“I’m not out of my head,”
smiled Timothy Thurston wanly. “Doc Gitney
will tell you that. Come –for
I’m growing very tired. Can you swing this
outfit and push the S.B. & L. through within charter
time?”
“I –I –hardly
know what to say,” stammered Tom, who felt dizzy
from the sudden rush of blood to his head.
“Have you the courage to try?”
“Yes, sir –I
have!” came, without further hesitation from
Tom Reade. “I believe I’ll succeed,
at that, for I’ll stake health, and even life,
on winning out!”
“That’s what I like to
hear,” breathed Mr. Thurston, an added flush
coming to his own face.
“Gentlemen, it’s time
to leave,” warned Dr. Gitney, watching his patient.
“One moment more, Doc,”
insisted the chief engineer feebly. “Gentlemen,
you’ve heard what has just been said. Will
everyone of you pledge himself on his honor to drop
all feeling that might interfere? Will you all
stand loyally by Reade, take his orders and help boost
him and all the rest of us through to victory in this
big game?”
“I will!” spoke Jack Rutter
earnestly and with a deep sigh of relief.
The others added their promises.
“Reade, you will take full charge
here,” continued Timothy Thurston. “Notify
Mr. Howe, too, at once. You and he will not need
to conflict with each other in any way. Also
notify the president of the road, at the New York
offices. Wire him at once. Now –thank
you all, gentlemen. I believe I shall have to
stop and go to sleep.”
“Get out, all of you,”
came firmly from bearded, middle-aged Dr. Gitney.
“You fellows now have your acting chief to look
to, and you don’t need to bother a sick man
any more.”
When Tom Reade stepped outside, on
the heels of the others, he certainly didn’t
feel as though treading on air. Instead, he
wondered if he were going to reel and totter, so dizzy
did he feel over the sudden realization of the responsibilities
he had taken upon himself.
“Give us our orders, chief,”
begged Matt Rice, with a grin, when Tom joined the
others over by the mess tent.
“Wait a few moments,”
urged Reade. “I don’t really know
whether I am chief or a joke.”
“Great Scott! After lecturing
me the way you did, you are not going to get cold
feet, are you?” gasped Jack Rutter.
“You’ll know what I mean
before long,” Tom murmured. “I signaled
to Dr. Gitney to follow me as soon as he could.”
“How does it seem to know that
you have only to beckon and that men must follow?”
laughed Joe Grant. It is doubtful whether Tom,
gazing at the chief’s big tent, even heard.
Presently Dr. Gitney stepped outside
and came toward them.
“Doctor,” began Tom, “will
you give me your word of honor that Mr. Thurston is
in his right mind?”
“He certainly impresses me as
being so,” the physician replied.
“You fully believe that he knew
just what he was doing?” Tom insisted.
“I do, Reade. But why
should you care? You have the reins in your
own hands now.”
“I wish to keep the reins there,”
Tom returned quickly. “Still I don’t
want to hold the power for an instant if there is reason
to believe that Mr. Thurston didn’t know what
he was doing.”
“If that is all you required
of me, Reade, rest easy and go ahead with the big
trust that has been placed in your hands,” replied
Dr. Gitney.
“Then help me to get a few things
out of the chief’s tent that we shall need,”
replied Tom.
“Tell me what the things are,”
rejoined the physician, “and I’ll pass
them out. I don’t want one of you in there,
or Thurston will soon be as delirious as Blaisdell
is, poor fellow.”
By stealth, drawing tables and instruments,
several boxes of maps, books and papers and other
necessary articles were taken from Mr. Thurston tent
without awaking the sick man.
These were removed to a tent that
was not occupied at the moment.
“Supper’s ready, folks,”
announced Bob, the cook’s helper, stepping softly
through camp.
Tom joined the other engineers, taking
a few hasty mouthfuls. Hardly had the party gathered
in the mess tent when ’Gene Black, bright and
cheery, stepped in swiftly, nodding here and there.
“Well, Rutter, I take it you
are running the camp from now on?” asked Black.
“Guess just once more,” replied Jack.
“Who is, then?”
“Mr. Reade.”
Black gulped, then grinned.
“The cub? That’s good!”
Black leaned back on his stool, laughing loudly.
“But who is going to
boss the camp?” insisted Black, after he had
had his laugh.
“Mr. Reade!” flung back the other engineers
in one voice.
“What have you to say to this,
cub?” asked ’Gene Black, turning to Tom.
“Mr. Thurston placed me in charge
because no one else would assume the responsibility,”
smiled Tom good-humoredly.
“Then you’re going to stay boss for the
present?”
“Unless Mr. Thurston changes his mind.”
“Oh, what a fool I was to be
away this afternoon!” groaned Black to himself.
“I could have gotten this chance away from a
cub like Reade. Oh, but my real task would have
been easy if I had been here on deck, and had got
Thurston to turn matters over to me. Reade will
be easy! He’s only a cub –a
booby. Even if he proved shrewd –well,
I have at my disposal several ways of getting rid
of him!”
Then, aloud, Black went on:
“Reade, I’m a candidate
for the post of acting assistant chief engineer.”
“That goes to Rutter, if he’ll take it,”
replied Tom, with a smile.
“Oh, I’ll take it,”
nodded Jack Rutter. “I can follow orders,
when I have someone else to give them.”
Tom was intentionally pleasant with
’Gene Black. He intended to remain pleasant –until
he was quite ready to act.
Immediately after supper Tom ordered
one of the chainmen to saddle a pony and be ready
to take a message back to the telegraph service that
was rapidly overtaking them.
“I want you to be sure to get
a receipt for the message from the operator,”
Tom explained. “Direct the operator to
get the message through to New York at once.”
“What’s the use?”
demanded the chainman. “It’s night
in New York, the same as it is here. If the
message goes through at any time tonight it will do.”
“I didn’t ask you that,”
Tom replied quietly. “I told you to instruct
the operator, from me, to send the message at once.
Then, if there is any delay on the way, the message
will still be in New York in the morning when the
company’s offices open.”
Then Tom Reade went to the new headquarters’
tent, seated himself at the desk and picked up a pen.
“Whew!” he muttered suddenly.
“This message is going to be harder to write
than I thought! When the president of the S.B.
& L. gets my telegram, informing him that a cub is
in command here, he’ll blow up! If he
recovers he’ll wire me that he’s sending
a grown man for the job!”