“Mister man,” said Vickers evenly, “what do you know about Tom Chavis?”
Masten looked quickly at Vickers, and as quickly looked away, his face slowly reddening.
“He’s foreman now, isn’t he?” he said. “It seems that Harkness trusted him that much.”
“There’s a first time for every man to go wrong, Mister,” said Vickers.
Masten’s voice was almost a sneer.
“Why don’t you tell Chavis that?”
“I’ve told him, Mister—to his face.” Vickers’ own face was growing dark with wrath.
“You were range boss after Harkness’ death,” persisted Masten. “Why didn’t you discharge Chavis?”
“I’m askin’ the new boss for permission to do it now,” declared Vickers. “It’ll be a good wind-up for my stay here.”
“We shall keep Chavis for the present,” said Ruth. “However,” she added firmly, “he shall not be range boss. I do not like him.”