Hallock.

"That is where my wire-tapper fell down; he couldn't tell."

"Then why do you say there is still a chance for me?"

"Oh, on general principles, I guess. If it was an even break that he
would refuse, it is still more likely that he won't stay after he has
seen what he is up against, don't you think?"

Hallock did not say what he thought. He rarely did.

"Of course, you made inquiries about him when you found out he was a
possible; I'd trust you to do that, Gridley. What do you know?"

"Not much that you can use. He is out of the Middle West; a young man
and a graduate of Purdue. He took the Civil degree, but stayed two years
longer and romped through the Mechanical. He ought to be pretty well up
on theory, you'd say."

"Theory be damned!" snapped the chief clerk. "What he'll need in the Red
Desert will be nerve and a good gun. If he has the nerve, he can buy the
gun."

"But having the gun he couldn't always be sure of buying the nerve, eh?
I guess you are right, Rankin; you usually are when you can forget to be
vindictive. And that brings us around to the jumping-off place again. Of
course, you will stay on with the new man--if he wants you to?"

"I don't know. That is my business, and none of yours."

It was a bid for a renewal of the quarrel which was never more than half
veiled between these two. But Gridley did not lift the challenge.

"Let it go at that," he said placably. "But if you should decide to
stay, I want you to let up on Flemister."

The morose antagonism died out of Hallock's eyes, and in its place came
craft.

"I'd kill Flemister on sight, if I had the sand; you know that, Gridley.
Some day it may come to that. But in the meantime----"

"In the meantime you have been snapping at his heels like a fice-dog,
Hallock; holding out ore-cars on him, delaying his coal supplies,
stirring up trouble with his miners. That was all right, up to
yesterday. But now it has got to stop."

"Not for any orders that you can give," retorted the chief clerk, once
more opening the door for the quarrel.

The master-mechanic got up and flicked the cigar ash from his
coat-sleeve with a handkerchief that was fine enough to be a woman's.

"I am not going to come to blows with you. Rankin--not if I can help
it," he said, with his hand on the door-knob. "But what I have said
will have to go as it lies. Shoot Flemister out of hand, if you feel
like it, but quit hampering his business."

Hallock stood u