"The men were getting settled. Now you have played into the hands of two of the most unscrupulous rascals in Colorado. Between you, you've got the men stirred up to a point where a strike is inevitable." For a time, Hartwell was apparently crushed by Firmstone's unanswerable logic, as well as by his portentous forecasts. He could not but confess to himself that his course of action looked very different under Firmstone's analysis than from his own standpoint alone. He drummed his fingers listlessly on the desk before him. He was all but convinced that he might have been wrong in his judgment of Firmstone, after all. Then Pierre's suggestions came to him like a flash.
"You are aware, of course, that I shall have to make a full report of the accident to the stage to our directors?"
"I made a report of all the facts in the case, at the time. Of course, if you have discovered other facts, they will have to be given in addition."
Hartwell continued, paying no attention to Firmstone.
"That in the report which I shall make, I may feel compelled to arrange my data in such a manner that they will point to a conclusion somewhat at variance with yours?"
"In which case," interrupted Firmstone; "I shall claim the right to another and counter statement."
Hartwell looked even more intently at Firmstone.
"In your report you stated positively that there were three thousand, one hundred and twenty-five ounces of bullion in your shipment; that this amount was lost in the wreck of the stage."
"Exactly."
Hartwell leaned forward, his eyes still fixed on Firmstone's eyes. Then, after a moment's pause, he asked, explosively,—