The crowd surged around Reade and Hazelton.

Mr.Bascomb, seeing his chance, dodged and ran out of the crowd.

But Mr.Prenter, with a spring, placed himself at Tom Reade's side.
"Come on, men!" yelled the sallow-faced fellow.
"Run dem w'ite slave-drivers outah camp!" yelled a score of negroes.

Yells in Italian and Portuguese also filled the air.
In an instant it was plain that Tom Reade had stirred up more than a hornet's nest.
"Come on, Harry," spoke Tom, firmly.

"Let's run this pair out of camp.
Then we'll come back and look for more trouble-makers and trouble-hunters! Make way there, men!" One excitable Italian rushed through the crowd, brandishing a revolver.