"You understand from this, do you not, that the gold recovered from the plates should then be twenty-two dollars and twenty-five cents a ton?"
"Yes, sir." Luna's face was reddening; beads of perspiration were oozing from his forehead.
"Well, then," pursued Firmstone, "just look over this statement. Read it out loud."
Luna took the paper offered him, and began to read.
"What do you make out of that?" Firmstone was looking straight into the foreman's eyes.
Luna tried his best to return the look, but his eyes dropped.
"I don't know," he stammered.
"Then I'll tell you. Not that I need to, but I want you to understand that I know. It means that out of every ton of ore that was delivered to this mill in May thirteen dollars and forty-five cents have been stolen."
Luna fairly gasped. He was startled by the statement to a cent of the amount stolen. He and his confederates had been compelled to take Pierre's unvouched statements. Therefore he could not controvert the figures, had he chosen. He did not know the amount.
"There must have been a mistake, sir."