“I don’t believe there will be any day’s work,” Rutter answered. “You’re in charge, man! You must put us to work,” Tom insisted. “I don’t know just what ought to be done,” complained Rutter. “I shall have to wait for orders.” “Orders?” repeated Tom, in almost breathless scorn. “From whom can you get orders?” “Howe is Thurston’s assistant at the lower camp,” Rutter rejoined. “He’ll have to come over here and take real charge. I’m going to send a messenger to the telegraph station and wire Mr. Howe to come here at once.” “See here, Rutter,” blazed Tom insistently, “Mr Howe is in charge of the construction forces. He’s laying the bed and the tracks. He can’t be spared from the construction work for even a day, or the road will fail to get through, no matter what we do here. Man, you’ve simply got to be up and doing! Make some mistakes, if you have to, but don’t lie down and kill the S.B. & L. with inaction.” “Cub,” laughed Rutter good-humoredly, “you speak as if this were a big personal matter with you.” “Oh, isn’t it, thought” retorted Tom Reade with spirit. “My whole heart is centered on seeing the S.B. & L. win out within the time granted by its charter. Rutter, if you don’t take hold with a rush and make a live, galloping start with your new responsibilities, I’m afraid I’ll go wild and assault you violently!” “Ha, ha, ha!” Jack laughed loudly. “Here, stop that cackling,” ordered Reade in the same low voice that he had been using. “Let’s get away from the chief’s tent. We’ll disturb him with our noise.” Dr. Gitney, entering the big tent five minutes later, found Mr. Thurston very much awake, for he had heard the low-voiced conversation outside the tent. Mr. Thurston was not quite as ill as was Blaisdell, and had not as yet reached the stage of delirium. “Doctor, I want you to summon the engineer corps here,” begged the patient. “When you’re better,” replied the doctor, with a hand on the sick man’s pulse. “Doc, you’d better let me have my way,” insisted Mr. Thurston in a weak voice. “If you don’t, you’ll make me five times more ill than I am at present.” Watching the fever glow in the man’s face deepen, and feeling the pulse go up several beats per minute, Dr. Gitney replied: “There, there, Thurston. Be good, and I’ll let you have three minutes with your engineers.” “That’s all I ask,” murmured the sick man eagerly. Dr. Gitney went outside and rounded them up. All were present except ’Gene Black, who, according to Matt Rice, had taken a little walk outside of camp. “I hope you’ll soon be better, sir,” began Rutter, as the engineers gathered at the cot of their stricken chief. “Don’t say anything unnecessary, and don’t waste my time,” begged Mr. Thurston. “Rutter, do you feel equal to running this field corps until either Blaisdell or I can take charge again?” “No, I don’t chief,” replied Jack. “I’ve sent a wire to Howe, urging him to come here and take charge.”