United States or Norway ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Gang-master Scipio plainly didn't like the job, but he liked it better than he did the idea of being discharged. So he spoke to four Italians about him, and the five surrounded the man. "Hol' on dar, Boss Reade!" spoke up a negro. "Ef yo' carry dis matter too far, den dere's gwine to be a strike on dis wohk. Jess ez dis gemman sez, we ain't no slaves.
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.
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.
"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.
At nine o'clock please be at the house ready to pay off any man who isn't satisfied to live and work in a camp where neither drinking nor gambling is allowed. Scipio, why haven't you started that fellow away from here?" "Too bigga crowd in front of us," replied the Italian gang-master, shrugging his shoulders. "Come on, Harry," Tom replied. "We'll see if we can't make a way through the crowd."
Tom was at the man's side in an instant. He proved to be an Italian. "My man, you appear to be intoxicated," Tom remarked, quietly, as he gripped the Italian by the arm. "No spikka da English," hiccoughed the laborer. As he spoke he tried to free himself from the engineer's grasp. He staggered, and would have fallen, had not Tom prevented the fall. "Where's this man's gang-master?"
Tom demanded, looking about him sharply, while he still held the drunken man. None of the Italians addressed appeared to know. For the most part they took refuge in the fact or the pretense that they didn't understand English. "Get an Italian gang-master, Harry," Tom murmured softly. Hazelton bolted away, but was soon back, followed by a dark-skinned man who came with apparent reluctance.
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.
If I catch you, again, on this company's property, I'll see to it that you're arrested, and locked up for trespass." "That's the way to talk!" nodded Treasurer Prenter, approvingly. "I guess I'll go when I get good and ready," asserted the stranger. In the front ranks of the crowd pressing around them, Reade now discerned the face of the Italian gang-master with whom he had talked recently.
"What's your name?" Tom demanded, turning about on the gang-master. "Scipio, sir." "Then, Scipio, take four men, and escort this fellow out of the camp. Don't use any force unless you have to, but see to it that this fellow leaves camp as quickly as he can walk -or be dragged. Start him now."
Word Of The Day