Many of them had slept so soundly that even the noise of dynamiting they had regarded only as a part of their dreams.

But the whistle meant business.
"Get the torches out, Mr.Rivers," called Tom, as one of the foremen reported on a run.
To Foreman Payson, Harry gave the order to marshal a hundred of the men to remain in and around the camp, alertly watchful.
"That's a good idea," nodded Mr.Ellsworth.

"The explosion may be only a trick to, empty the camp, as a prelude to further mischief." Scores of torches flared in the darkness as the workmen hurried westward.

At the head of all went Tom Reade and the general manager.
Less than half a mile away they came upon the scene of mischief.
"It's just what I expected," nodded Tom, as the leading party halted under the flare of the torches.

"You see, sir, here was the point of greatest cave and drift in the quicksand.