“I know you'll excuse us,” replied Tom, still speaking pleasantly, “if we don't go into precise details.”
“Then you are going to make a secret of your plans?” inquired another barber-shop idler. His tone expressed merely curiosity; Arizona men are proverbially as polite as they are frank.
“We're somewhat secretive—yes, sir,” Tom replied. “That is only because we regard the method we are going to use as being mainly the concern of the A., G. & N. M. No offense meant, sir, either.”
“No offense taken,” replied the late questioner.
Tom had already, within a few minutes, made an excellent impression on the majority of these Arizona men present.
As to the other newcomer, who had lately spoken so warmly of the Colthwaite Company, he was now silent, apparently greatly absorbed in a three-days-old newspaper that he had picked up. Yet he managed to cast more than one covert glance at the boys.
“I have heard both of you young men spoken of most warmly, as real engineers who are going to solve the problem of the Man-killer,” declared Clarence Farnsworth, as, alighting from the barber's chair, he strolled past the pair.
“Thank you,” nodded Tom, with all his usual simple good nature.
“If you make a successful job of it is will be a splendid thing for you in your professional careers,” continued Farnsworth, rather aimlessly.
“Undoubtedly,” nodded Harry.
The stranger who had held so much converse with Jim Duff was through with the barber at last. Though the day was scorchingly hot in this desert town, the stranger stepped along briskly until he had reached the hotel.
The Mansion House would scarcely have measured up to the hotel standards of large cities. Yet it was a very good hotel, indeed, for this part of Arizona, and the proprietor did all in his power for the comfort of his guests.
As the stranger ascended the steps to the broad porch he caught sight of Jim Duff, approaching the doorway from the inside.
“Oh, how do you do?” was Duff's greeting. “Hot, isn't it?”
“Very,” nodded the stranger.
“I usually have my luncheon in my room, which is large and airy,” continued Duff. “As I dislike to eat alone, I have ordered the table spread for two. I shall be very glad of your company, stranger, if you care to honor me.”
“That is kind of you,” nodded the other. “I shall accept with much pleasure, for I, too, like to eat in good company.”
After a little more conversation the two ascended to Duff's room on the next floor. Certainly it was the largest and most comfortable guest room in the hotel, and was furnished in good taste. The main apartment was set as a gentlemen's lounging room, Duff's bedroom furniture being in a little room at the rear.
Hardly had Duff pressed the bell button before there came a tap at the door. One waiter brought in a table for two, with the napery. This he quickly arranged. As he turned toward the door two other waiters entered with dishes containing a dainty meal for a hot day.
“You may arrange everything and then leave us, John,” directed Duff. Soon the two new acquaintances were alone together, the gambler serving the light meal with considerable grace.
“How long have you been with the Colthwaite Company?” asked Jim Duff presently.
“I didn't say that I had ever been with the Colthwaite Company,” smiled the stranger.
“No,” admitted the gambler; “but I took that much for granted.”
Again the eyes of the two men met in an exchange of keen looks, Then the stranger laughed.
“Mr. Duff, I realize that it is a waste of time to try to conceal rather evident facts from you. I am Frederick Ransom, a special agent for the Colthwaite Company.”
“You are down here to get the contract for filling up the Man-killer quicksand?” Duff continued, with an air of polite curiosity.
“The contract is not to be awarded,” Ransom answered. “The A., G. & N. M. has decided to do the work itself, with the assistance of two young engineers who have been retained.”
“Reade and Hazelton,” nodded Jim Duff.
“Yes.”
“They may fail—are almost sure to do so. Then, of course, Mr. Ransom, you will have a very excellent chance of securing the contract for the Colthwaite Company.”
“Why, yes; if the young men do fail.”
“Will you pardon a stranger's curiosity, Mr. Ransom? Have you laid your plans yet for the way in which the young men are to fail?”
From most strangers this direct questioning would have been offensive. Jim Duff, however, from long experience in fleecing greenhorns, had acquired a manner and way, of speaking that stood him in good stead.
After a moment's half-embarrassed silence Fred Ransom burst into a laugh that was wholly good-natured.
“Mr. Duff, You are unusually clever at reading other's motives,” he replied.
“I went to school as a youngster, and learned how to read the pages of open books,” the gambler confessed modestly. “So you have, as yet, no plan for compelling the young engineers to fail and quit at the Man-killer?”
This was such a direct, comprehensive question that Fred Ransom remained silent for some moments before he admitted:
“No; as yet I haven't been able to form a plan.”
“Then engage me to help you,” spoke Jim Duff slowly, coolly. “I know the country here, and the people. I know where to lay my finger on men who can be trusted to do unusual things. I shall come high, Mr. Ransom, but I am really worth the money. Talk it over with me, and convince me that your company will be sufficiently liberal in return for large favors.”
“Oh, the Colthwaite Company would be liberal enough,” protested Ransom, “and quick to hand out the cash, at that.”
“I took that for granted,” smiled Duff, showing his white teeth. “Your people, the Colthwaites, have always been accustomed to paying for favors that require unusual talent, some courage-and perhaps a persistency of the shooting kind.”
Then the two rascals, who now thoroughly understood each other, fell to plotting. An hour later the outlook was dark, indeed, for the success of Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton.
CHAPTER II. DUFF ASSERTS HIS “RIGHTS”
“We've a hard afternoon ahead of us, Harry,” remarked Tom Reade, as the engineer chums finished the noonday meal in the public dining room of the Mansion House.
“Pshaw! We'll have more real work to do after our material arrives,” rejoined young Hazelton. “We're promised the material in four days. If we get it in a fortnight we will be lucky.”
“That might be true on some railroads,” smiled Tom. “But Mr. Ellsworth, the general manager of the A., G. & N. M., is a hustler, if I ever met one. When we wired to him what we needed, he wired back that enough of the material would be here within four days to keep us busy for some time. I believe Mr. Ellsworth never talks until he knows what he's talking about.”
“Well, I hope you can find some work for the men to do this afternoon,” murmured Harry, as the two young engineers rose from table. “Hawkins, our superintendent of construction, has about five hundred mechanics and laborers who will soon need