Some of
these contractors are slow in their pay. They expect men to wait a
month or two. That makes them mad and the tinhorn bunch keep stirring
up trouble. Might be a strike any time, and then look out. But our Chief
will be ready for them. He won't stand any nonsense, you bet."
At this point in the Sergeant's rambling yarn the door was flung open
and a man called breathlessly, "Man killed!"
"How is that?" cried the Sergeant, springing to buckle on his belt.
"An accident--car ran away--down the dump."
"They are altogether too flip with those cars," growled the Sergeant.
"Come on!"
They ran down the road and toward the railroad dump where they saw a
crowd of men. The Sergeant, followed by Cameron, pushed his way through
and found a number of navvies frantically tearing at a pile of jagged
blocks of rock under which could be seen a human body. It took only a
few minutes to remove the rocks and to discover lying there a young man,
a mere lad, from whose mangled and bleeding body the life appeared to
have fled.
As they stood about him, a huge giant of a man came tearing his way
through the crowd, pushing men to right and left.
"Let me see him," he cried, dropping on his knees. "Oh Jack, lad, they
have done for you this time."
As he spoke the boy opened his eyes, looked upon the face of his friend,
smiled and lay still.
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