Carstairs looked at him in astonishment, his anger seemed so genuine and righteous. "You're welcome to try any time you like," he answered.
Darwen gazed at him a moment, then he suddenly smiled. "Look here, old chap, I can see you believe you're in the right, but I assure you you're not. I'm positive I won the toss."
"And I'm equally positive I won it."
"My dear chap, I held the coin right under your eyes, and I remember distinctly it was a tail."
"Precisely; that's what I guessed."
Darwen's face seemed to lighten with a sudden comprehension. "I'm devilish sorry," he said. "I remember now. I didn't notice particularly at the time what you said. I was watching the coin. "Head" is so often the choice that I assumed it was head. Look here, I'll withdraw my application. I'll tell Thompson." He started off.
Carstairs followed, and stopped him at the office. "Let it go now, Darwen," he said.
Thompson looked from one to the other inquiringly. Darwen explained.
"It's too late now, any way," Thompson said. "The letter's gone. I think it's best as it is, too."
They went out into the engine room again together. Darwen was profuse, more than profuse, in his apologies. "I'd sooner almost anything had happened than this," he said.