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The men had been paid off the day before, and usually on such occasions many of them remained away, celebrating in the nearest village. But this time all had left, and evidently did not intend to come back. "We'll have to get a new gang," said Job. "And it's going to delay us just at the wrong time. Well, there's no help for it. Get busy, Serato. You and Tim go and see how many men you can gather.
"We must get the injured ones out of here!" cried Walter Titus. "Where are the men with stretchers?" "I sint that Spalapeen Serato for thim!" broke in a voice, rich in Irish brogue. "But he's thot stupid he might think I was after sindin' him fer wather!" "No, Tim. Serato is after the stretchers all right," said Walter. "We passed him on the way."
I'll tell Serato to scare up all his dusky brethren he can find, and we'll offer a bonus for good work." The Indian foreman readily agreed to get more laborers. "And get some big ones, Serato," urged Job Titus. "Get some fellows like Koku," for the giant did the work of three men in the tunnel, not because he was obliged to, but because his enormous strength must find an outlet in action.
And it was Serato, who, at Waddington's suggestion, caused the "hit" among the men by working on their superstitious fears. Waddington, knowing that he was dying, confessed everything, and begged forgiveness from Tom and his friends, which was granted, in as much as no real harm had been done. Waddington was but a tool in the hands of the rival contractors, who deserted him in his hour of need.
Where Serato found his man, no one knew, and the foreman would not tell; but a day or so later he appeared at the tunnel camp with an Indian so large in size that he made the others look like pygmies, and many of them were above the average in height, too. "Say, he's a whopper all right!" exclaimed Tom. "But he isn't as big or as strong as Koku." "He comes pretty near it," said Job Titus.
"I've been thinking too much about this business. I'll have to give up. I can't solve the mystery of the missing men." The next day, much disappointed, he resumed his own character as explosive expert, and prepared for another blast. The net result of his watch was that he became suspicious of Serato, and so informed the Titus Brothers.
"Me speak to roof? No, sar!" Serato laughed. Tom did not know what to believe. "You hear me tell um lazy man to much hurry," the Indian went on. "Me not know you sleep there, sar!" "Oh, all right," Tom said, recollecting that he must keep up his disguise. "Maybe I was dreaming." "Yes, sar," and the foreman hurried on, with a backward glance over his shoulder.
"This giant was sent to us by our rivals. They wanted him to hamper our work, for they see we have a chance to finish on time. I think that foreman, Serato, is in the plot. He brought Lamos here. We'll fire him!" This was done, though the Indian protested his innocence. But he could not be trusted. "We can't take any chances," said Job Titus. "Our time is too nearly up.
He rubbed his head where he had struck it, and then passed his hand before his eyes, to make sure he was awake. But the vision, if vision it was, had vanished, and he saw only the bare rock wall. However, the echo of the voice remained in his ears, and, looking down toward the tunnel floor Tom saw Serato, the Indian foreman.
The morning after the investigation, when the starting whistle blew there was no line of Indians ready to file into the big, black hole. The huts where they slept were deserted. A strange silence brooded over the tunnel camp. "Where are the men, Serato?" asked Tom of the Indian foreman. "Men um gone. No work any more. What you call a hit." "You mean a strike?" asked Tom.
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