"There's just a fair chance that you haven't yet blocked it," remarked the young army officer thoughtfully. "Of course this Sambo of yours merely represents a well-organized gang. This gang may have more ways than one of damaging the property of the Melliston Company. From all I can see, Tom and Harry, you're likely to need to be more vigilant than ever. Whew! But I'm glad that I can be with you a few days. I'm likely to come in for a choice lot of excitement. Also, I may very likely be able to help out a lot." "We wouldn't put you to that trouble, Dick," protested Tom. "You're to be our guest---not our policeman." "Are you going to try to keep me out of all the excitement and fun?" Lieutenant Dick demanded, indignantly. "Sleep? Can't I get enough of that when I go aboard a Pullman again and am riding out to Colorado? Of course I'm going to help---and I'm going to have my share of all the opportunities for excitement here---or else I'm going to cut your acquaintance." "Why, of course we'll be delighted to have your help, Dick, if you want to stand the racket," Reade made haste to say. "It will surely seem like doubling---or trebling---our forces, to have Dick Prescott working hand in hand with us." "Then that's settled," cried Dick, with an air of satisfaction. "You haven't had any sleep lately, have you, Dick?" inquired Tom, after they had chatted a little longer. "No; I haven't." "Then you must turn in and get a few hours," proposed Reade. "I must have a little myself, as I shall have to be up and go into court during the coming forenoon." "I'm wide awake now," said Harry. "So I'll sit right here on the porch and dream of Dick and Greg, and good old Dave Darrin and Danny Dalzell, and the good times we had in old Gridley. What time do you want to be up, Tom?" "Not later than eight," Reade answered. "Trust me," said Harry promptly. Harry went to his own bedroom, pulled his bed apart, remade it with fresh linen, and with a final grip of Dick's hand, he left the army officer to turn in there. At eight o'clock Hazelton called both Tom and Dick. They turned out promptly, to find that Nicolas had laid an appetizing breakfast on the porch. Then Tom had to hurry over to Blixton, Dick going with him, while Hazelton went down to the breakwater to superintend the day's work there. Only a little time had to be spent in the justice's stuffy court. Hawkins and his fellow gamblers and bootleggers were arraigned and held in one thousand dollars' bail each for trial. As none of them had the money the eight men were sent to the county jail pending trial. "That's queer," mused Tom, aloud, as he and Dick walked back to camp. "You'd think that professional gamblers would have money enough to put up small bail." "Not if they're working for other people," suggested Dick. "These men may be merely the agents of some larger crowd."