"That the lower shaft and the last drift was cut by your order. Write it!" He pointed to the paper on the desk. Wickersham sat down and wrote a few lines. His hand trembled.
"Here it is," he said sullenly.
"Now pay me," said the glowering Scotchman.
The money was paid, and Matheson, without a word, turned and walked out.
"D--- him! I wish the mine had fallen in on him," Wickersham growled.
"You are well quit of him," said Mr. Plume, consolingly.
"I'll get even with him yet."
"You have to answer your other friend," observed Mr. Plume.
"I'll answer him." He seized a sheet of paper and began to write, annotating it with observations far from complimentary to Keith and Matheson. He read the letter to Plume. It was a curt inquiry whether Mr. Keith meant to make the charge that he had crossed his line. If so, Wickersham & Company knew their remedy and would be glad to know at last the source whence these slanderous reports had come.
"That will settle him."