The next morning, Sam Caldwell, under the guidance of McKildrick, paid an official visit to the light-house on which the men of the F. C. C. were then at work. When his tour of inspection was finished he returned to the wheel-house of the tug that had brought him across the harbor, and sent for Roddy. Roddy appeared before him in his working-clothes. They consisted of very few garments, and those were entirely concealed by the harbor mud. Caldwell, in cool, clean duck and a flamboyant Panama hat, signified with a grin that he enjoyed the contrast. He did not like Roddy, and Roddy treated him with open insolence. They were nearly of the same age and for years had known each other, but they had always been at war. As son of the president of the company, every chance had been given Roddy to advance his own interests. And it was not so much that he had failed to be of service to the company, as that he had failed to push himself forward, that caused Caldwell to regard him with easy contempt.
On his side, Roddy considered Caldwell the bribe-giver and keeper of the corruption fund for the company, and, as such, beneath his royal notice. It therefore followed that in his present position of brief authority over Roddy, Caldwell found a certain enjoyment. This he concealed beneath the busy air of a man of affairs.
“I have a cable here from your father, Roddy,” he began briskly. “Translated, the part that refers to you reads, ‘Tell Forrester take orders from you or leave service company. If refuses, furnish return passage, month’s wages.’”
After a pause, Roddy said: “I take it that is in answer to a cable from you.”
“Exactly,” assented Caldwell. “I informed your father you were insubordinate to my authority, and that I had been reliably informed you were hostile to our interests. What you do as an individual doesn’t count for much, but as the son of your father, apparently down here at least, it does. Why you made that play at me last night I don’t know, and I haven’t time to find out. I am not here to teach you manners. But when you butt in and interfere with the business of the company I must take notice. You’ve either got to stop working against us, or go home. Which do you want to do? And before you answer,” Caldwell added, “you ought to know that, as it is, you don’t stand very high at headquarters. When your father got word you’d been fighting Vega, our friend, in defense of Alvarez, the man that’s robbing us, that’s giving us all this trouble, he was naturally pretty hot. He said to me: ‘Roddy isn’t down there to mix up in politics, but if he does, he must mix up on our side. I can’t take money from the company to support my son, or any one else, who is against it.’ That’s what your father said to me. Now, as I understand it, although it is none of my business, you are dependent on him, and I advise——”
“As you say,” interrupted Roddy, “it’s none of your business. The other proposition,” he went on, “that I can’t take money from the company and work against it, is fair enough. What you call my work against it was begun before I knew it was in any way opposed to the company’s interests. Now that I do know, I quite agree that either I must give up my outside job or quit working for you.” Roddy reached to the shoulder of his flannel shirt, and meditatively began to unroll his damp and mud-soaked sleeve. “I guess I’ll quit now!” he said.
The answer was not the one Caldwell expected or desired. As an employee of the company Roddy was not important, but what he was doing as an individual, which had so greatly excited Vega, was apparently of much importance. And what it might be Sam Caldwell was anxious to discover. He had enjoyed his moment of triumph and now adopted a tone more conciliatory.
“There’s no use getting hot about it,” he urged. “Better think it over.”
Roddy nodded, and started to leave the wheel-house.
“Have thought it over,” he said.