It was a circular tent, some forty feet in diameter.

The second tent, only a little smaller, was now being hoisted.
"Who's in charge of this work ?" asked Tom in his usual pleasant tone.
"My manager, Mr.Bemis--Dock Bemis," answered Jim Duff suavely, as he moved forward to meet the party.

"Dock, come here.

I want you to know Mr.Reade, the engineer in charge of this job." Duff's manners were impudently easy and assured.

The fellow known as Dock Bemis, an unprepossessing, shabbily dressed man of thirty-five, with a mean face and an ugly-looking eye, came forward.
"I'll take Mr.Bemis's acquaintance for granted," Tom continued, with an easy smile.