Presently he came over to me. He had evidently been both working and thinking hard.
"Say, do you still think this move is made by the owners to get value for their property, or is it a rascally deal to block us?" he asked doggedly.
"I don't know—it may be one or the other, or even both—anyhow it's our next move."
Hiram rubbed his stubbly chin with one hand and then the other, and looked at the Fearsome as though in some way it had become a part of him.
"Somehow I feel it is the owners—perhaps this is the only way they could proceed—of course, she is worth twenty times what we paid—if it is, they ought to be reasonable. The Fearsome lying out there rotting, without power, and the Fearsome with power and at work, is very different, but they may rightfully expect more than the crew's back wages."
I nodded assent, wondering where his line of reasoning would lead.
"Now it may be only money they want—as soon as this load is out of her we can collect two thousand freight—and, Ben—you—you have not said anything lately about that barrel—is it possible to sell that now? Whatever it will bring will come in handy to get time enough to pay this claim—there's lots of timber up there and they want it moved. If we can get enough help I believe we can make two trips a week instead of one. Three thousand a week will soon wipe them out—and sooner or later we've got to pay the railroad for that motor."
"But, Hiram, what about Becker & Co.? We started out to get into their place and we must not lose sight of that now."
"I know—I know—but if these men mean to be fair they must allow us time. Ben, you are a better diplomat; go down and see these attorneys."