"What?" bellowed McShay, jumping into the air and feeling for his gun. His dismay on realizing that he didn't have this final argument was pathetic.
"I told you, Parson," he said to the chairman bitterly; "I told you it was a mistake."
"No unsupported statement need bother you, Mr. McShay," suggested the preacher, his eyes, twinkling, for now that he felt that he had the situation well in hand he was amused at the play of human emotions going on before him.
"That's right, Parson," said McShay. "That's right, 'unsupported' is a glad word and it epitomizes the situation. But the young feller'll have to make this good some other time and place."
"I'll make it good now, Mr. McShay. Bill, come here, will you?"
As the big foreman sauntered over to him, the young man went on:
"As you all know, Bill was the Earl's foreman for years, and knows his signature as well as he knows his own. Will you let me submit this signature to Bill?"
As Mr. McShay did not refuse, being by this time somewhat bewildered, Hal passed the paper up to the cattle-boss, who looked it over and over, and then, thinking Of other things, looked at the back of the paper.
"He didn't sign it on both sides of the paper, Bill," growled McShay impatiently, "and it ain't leaked through."
"'Tain't Jim's—the Earl's, I mean," said Bill decisively.