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Tom was apparently the only one in camp, after the excitement started, who had noted that Dave Fulsbee, at the first shots, had leaped to his horse and vanished down the trail to the eastward. At this moment a party of a dozen, headed by Professor Coles, came in on foot, bearing young Reynolds with them. "Harry, mount one of the saddled horses and rush down yonder for Doc Gitney," Tom ordered.
That's just what I thought you'd do." Then Tom dragged Dave down to the headquarters tent, where they found the president of the road. "Mr. Newnham," began Tom gravely, "the sheriff has just come to camp and has discharged Fulsbee from his force of deputies, just because Fulsbee acted as a real law officer and stopped the raid on the road. I have told Mr.
"You won't be out of work." "Won't be out of work, eh?" demanded Sheriff Grease hotly. "Just let him wait and see. There isn't a man in the county who wants Dave Fulsbee about now." "Then what a disappointed crowd they're going to be," remarked Tom pleasantly, "for Mr. Newnham is going to make Dave chief of detectives for the company, at a salary of something like six thousand a year.
Then we'll come back, or send someone else after the dynamite and other stuff. That'll be handy as evidence." Guarded by Fulsbee and his two detectives, the prisoners marched along a few rods. "Mr. Reade," called Dave, pointing, "you'll find your horse tied to that tree yonder. I reckon you'll be glad to get in saddle again." Indeed, Tom was glad.
It was an irregular volley that ripped out from the defenders of the camp. Half of the marksmen fired to the right of the rook, the others at its crest. Right on top of this came another volley, fired from some new point of attack. It filled the air at this end of the camp with bullets. "Livin' rattlers!", cried Dave Fulsbee, leaping to his feet. "That's the real attack.
It will be here in about twenty minutes." "I'll be glad to see your equipment, and to set you at work as soon as we're ready," Reade went on. "Harry, show Mr. Fulsbee the tent we've set aside for himself and his helper." "Who is that party?" questioned Watson, as Hazelton started off with the newcomer in tow. "Oh, just a new expert that we're taking on," Tom drawled.
"I've got a knife in my left hand," announced Fulsbee, as Tom neared him in the dark. "Turn around so that I can cut the cords at your wrists." In a moment this was done. "You might stay here and help me," whispered Dave. Tom nodded. "Now, Black, you can be the first," called Dave in a brisk, business-like tone. "Step up here and drop your weapons on the ground."
"Here's the racketty stuff," went on Hoskins, indicating the boxes. "That small box has the fuses. Get the stuff along, and I'll lay the magneto wire." "Not quite so hastily!" sternly broke in a new voice. Tom Reade fairly yelled for joy, for the new speaker, as he knew at the first sound, was Dave Fulsbee.
Then they had to come together and attend to handcuffing you fellows." "And were you the only man who had the drop on us?" gasped 'Gene Black. "I was," Dave Fulsbee responded. "If you fellows hadn't had such bad nerves, you could have escaped. But it's an old story. When men go bad their nerves go bad with them."
"Does a man accept an invitation to eat when he's hungry?" replied Dave rather huskily. "Then it's settled," put in Tom, anxious to clinch the matter, for he had a very shrewd idea that he would need Dave badly ere long. "Now, Mr. Newnham, until we get everything running smoothly, Mr. Fulsbee ought to have a force of about forty men.
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