"Oh, a compromise, eh? Well, sit down a minute; I want to find out a few details. Do you think now, for instance, that Whitney H. Stoddard is back of this man, Ike Bray? Because if he is, and their claim is a good one, it might make some difference to me."
He said this so naturally and with such apparent resignation that Jepson almost rose to the bait, but he had learned Rimrock's ways too well. Such an admission as that, if made before the trial, might seriously affect Stoddard's case. And besides, this was a matter for lawyers.
"Well, as to that, Mr. Jones," he replied apologetically, "I really cannot say. As superintendent of the mine, and lately as acting manager, I am fully occupied, I am sure——"
"Yes, no doubt," observed Rimrock, suddenly changing his tone, "but you've got more time, now—I'll take that manager job off your hands."
"What? Take charge of the mine again?" cried Jepson aghast. "Why, I thought——"
"Very likely," returned Rimrock, "but guess again. I'm still general manager, unless the Directors have fired me; and believe me, I'm going to take charge. In the next few days I'm going to go through this office with a six-shooter and a fine-tooth comb and if I find a single dollar paid out to Ike Bray some ex-manager is liable to get shot. You understand that, now don't you, Mr. Jepson? All right then; we can go ahead. Now will you kindly tell me how, as general manager and mine superintendent, and being worried so much over that claim, you came to let the ordinary assessment work lapse on the apex claim to our mine?"
He leaned back in his chair and put one hand in his pocket and Jepson broke into a sweat. It is no easy task for a man to serve two masters, and Rimrock had exposed a heavy pistol.
"Well—why, really!" burst out Jepson in desperation, "I thought you had entrusted that to Mr. Lockhart. He told me so, distinctly, when I spoke of it in your absence, and naturally I let the matter drop."
"Yes, naturally," drawled Rimrock and as he reached for his handkerchief Jepson started and almost ran. "You're a great man, Jepson," he went on cuttingly, "a great little piece of mechanism. Now come through—what does Stoddard want?"
"Mr. Jones," began Jepson in his most earnest manner, "I give you my word of honor I don't know of what you are speaking."