Nor did Tom return until late in the afternoon. He came back alone.

"Well?" demanded Harry.

"Yes," nodded Tom. "It's well."

"What is?"

"The game."

"What is the game?"

"When you hear about it--" Reade began.

"Yes, yes--"

"Then you'll know."

"Tom Reade, do you know, I believe I'm quite ready and willing to thrash you?" cried Harry in exasperation.

"Please don't," Tom begged.

"Then tell me what you've been so mightily mysterious about."

"I will," returned Reade. "I'd have told you hours ago, Harry, only I'm afraid you would have been demoralized with disappointment if the thing had failed to go through. Harry, to-day I've been meddling in other people's business. Congratulate me! I put it through without getting myself thumped or even disliked, by anyone. Both sides to the deal are 'tickled to death,' as the saying runs."

"You said you were going to tell me," remarked Hazelton, trying hard to restrain his curiosity for a minute or two longer.

"Sit down and listen," Tom urged his chum, handing him a chair in their little shack of an office.

Then, indeed, Tom did pour forth the whole story. As Harry listened a broad grin of contentment appeared on his face, for one of Hazelton's lovable weaknesses was his desire to see other people get ahead.

Just as Tom finished, a figure darkened the doorway.

"I'm ready to go, sir," announced Tim Griggs.

"Go where?" inquired Harry.

"I've fired Griggs," observed Tom Reade.

"What! After all that he did for you the other night?" demanded Hazelton, aghast. "After the man saved your--"

"Oh, I'm quite satisfied to be fired, Mr. Hazelton," Tim Griggs broke in. "In fact, I'm very grateful to Mr. Reade. He has certainly given me a big boost forward in the world."

"What are you going to do now, Griggs?" Harry asked.

"You'd better address him as 'Mr. Griggs,' Harry," Tom hinted. "He is a foreman now, at six dollars a day, and ent.i.tled to his Mister."

"Foreman?" Harry repeated, while Gregg's grin broadened.

"Yes," Tom continued. "Mr. Griggs is to be foreman on the new job that I've just been telling you about in town. After this, if Mr. Griggs is careful to behave himself, he's likely always to be a foreman on some job or other for the A., G. & N. M."

Harry sprang forward, seizing the hand of Tim Griggs and shaking it with enthusiasm.

"Bully old Griggs! Lucky old Griggs!" Hazelton bubbled forth. "Mr.

Griggs, you'll believe from now on what I've always believed--that it's a great piece of luck in itself to be one of Tom Reade's friends."

"It surely has been great luck for me, sir," Griggs answered. "The best part of all," he added, with a husky note in his voice, "is what it means to that little girl of mine. When I get into town to-night I in going to sit down and write that little daughter a long letter all about the grand news. She'll be proud of her dad's good luck! She's only eight years old, but she's a great little reader, and she writes me letters longer than my own."

"If you'll wait a minute, Mr. Griggs," proposed Tom, "we'll be able to give you a ride into town. The general manager gave me authority to rent and use an automobile after this. It's out there waiting now."

The new foreman gratefully accepted the invitation. Within five minutes the chauffeur had stopped the car in Paloma and Tim Griggs got out to go to his new boarding place in the town.

"G.o.d bless you, Mr. Reade!" he said huskily, holding out his band.

"You've done a lot for me--and my little girl!"

"No more than you've done for me," smiled Tom. "Anyway, you haven't received more than you deserve, and you never will in this little old world of ours."

"I don't know about that," replied the new foreman, a sudden flush rising to his weather-beaten face. "It all seems too good to be true."

"You'll find it to be true enough when you draw your next pay, Griggs,"

laughed Tom. "Then you'll realize that you aren't dreaming. In the meantime your dinner is getting cold at your boarding place. Don't let your new job spoil your appet.i.te."

When Tom and Harry rode into town at noon the following day they beheld a scene of great activity at the site of the destroyed Cactus House. All the blackened debris had been carted away during the morning by a large force of men. Now, derricks lay in place, to be erected in the afternoon. A steam shovel had been all but installed and a large stationary engine rested on nearly completed foundations.

George Ashby, proprietor of the Mansion House, who had dared, during the last two days, to show himself a little more openly on the streets of Paloma, halted just as Tom and Harry stepped out of the automobile to look over the scene of Foreman Griggs's morning labors.

"Looks as if the Cactus House might be rebuilt," remarked Ashby, burning with curiosity.

"No," said Tom briefly.

"Carter is going to change the name?" inquired Ashby.

"No. Carter doesn't own this land any more."

"He doesn't own the land?" Ashby asked. "What's going to be put up here, then? A business block?"

For a moment Ashby thrilled with joy. Of late the Cactus House had seriously cut in on the profits of the Mansion House. Ashby had, in fact, been running behind. Now, if the Mansion House were to be henceforth the only hotel in town, Ashby saw a chance to prosper on a more than comfortable scale.

"Ashby," Tom went on, rather frigidly, "I won't waste many words, for I'm afraid I don't like you well enough to talk very much to you. The A., G. & N. M. has bought this land from Mr. Carter. The railroad is going to erect here one of the finest hotels in this part of Arizona. It will have every modern convenience, and will make your hotel look like a mill boarding house by contrast. When the new hotel is completed it will be leased to Mr. Carter. With his insurance money, and the price of the land in bank, Carter will have capital for embarking in the hotel business on a scale that will make this end of Arizona sit up and do some hard looking."

As he listened Proprietor Ashby's jaw dropped. His color came and went.

He swallowed hard, while his hands worked convulsively. With the fine new hotel that was coming to Paloma the owner of the Mansion House saw himself driven hopelessly into the background. "Reade, this new hotel game is some of your doings," growled the hotel man.

"I'm proud to say that it is partly my doing," Tom admitted, with a smile. "Harry, let's go along to the restaurant. I'm hungry."

As the two young engineers stepped into the car and were driven away, Ashby dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands.

"So I'm to be beaten out of the hotel game here, am I!" the hotel man asked himself, gritting his teeth. "I'm to be driven out by Reade, the fellow whom I once kicked out of my hotel! Oh--well, all right!"