“It is rather primitive, I’ll admit. But it’s business—in the modern meaning of the word. More than that, I owe it to your father.”
“You don’t owe him anything that ought to be paid with such a frightful price! What ought to be done with that place in the tunnel? What would be done if you were not blind to everything but profit and loss?”
David shrugged his shoulders and turned his face away. “I suppose the bad piece of roof would be shot down.”
“And you are deliberately allowing it to stay up—if it will—and endangering the lives of your workmen every hour of the day and night?”
“Hard-rock men always take a chance. It is a part of their trade. And Regnier, or some other member of the staff, is always there to take it with them.”
“You are hopeless—absolutely and utterly hopeless, David! Don’t you see what you are forcing me to do?”
“No.”
“I have some little conscience, if you haven’t. I can’t say anything to Mr. Lushing, of course, and I wouldn’t if I could. But I can write to Mr. Maxwell, the general manager of the railroad at Brewster. It so happens that I know him, and his wife.”
“Hold on; you wouldn’t do anything like that! Think a minute of the position in which it would place your father.”
She shook her head despairingly.