Wolf smiled grimly, stroked his thick, coarse reddish beard, and looked at Norman thoughtfully a moment.
"Well, my boy," the regent began, with friendly patronage, "we'd as well come to the point without ceremony. You are down and out. The new board of governors will do what I wish. I am in supreme command of the ship of state. Do you want to fight or work?"
"It's a poor doctor, Wolf," Norman said, coolly, "who can't take his own medicine. I came here to work."
"Congratulations on your good sense!" the regent replied. "I've no desire to make trouble for you. I have nothing against you personally. I had to put you out and take command to save the colony from ruin. You meant well, but you were a bungling amateur, and you can be of greater service in the ranks than in command. I know you don't like me after what has happened, but you don't have to. I'll be generous. What sort of work would you like to have assigned you?"
"Thanks, that's very kind of you, Wolf, I'm sure. I believe the warden of every penitentiary is equally generous to all convicts. However, that's a minor detail, seeing that I assisted in the creation of this ideal world."
Wolf smashed the desk top with his big fist and suddenly glared at Norman, his cold eyes gleaming angrily.
"Come to the point! I've no time to waste! Have you any choice as to the kind of work to which you wish to be assigned?"
"I have a decided choice. Our mines have all failed. I'll redeem the failure by perfecting and completing the big dredge for mining gold from the low-grade sands on the beach."
"A waste of time and money," Wolf snapped. "I can't afford to spare the men on any more fool inventions. Such things must stop."
"You mean to stop all progress by stopping inventions?" Norman asked.