“Even with him on the project?”

“Yes, ma’am.  He let me put up the money, but it’s got to be paid back out of Dave’s half interest in the Aurora mine.  And likely, likely, that’s what Dave Weatherbee would have wanted done.”

CHAPTER XXX

THE JUNIOR DEFENDANT

It was following a recess during the third afternoon of the trial; a jury had at last been impanelled, the attorney for the prosecution and the leading lawyer for the defense had measured swords, when Stuart Foster, the junior defendant in the “Conspiracy to Defraud the Government,” was called to the stand.  Frederic Morganstein, the head of the Prince William Development Company, straightened in his seat beside the vacated chair.  He was sleekly groomed, and his folded, pinkish white hands suggested a good child’s; his blank face assumed an expression of mildly protesting innocence.  But the man who stepped from his shadow into the strong light of the south windows was plainly harassed and worn.  His boyishness was gone; he seemed to have aged years since that evening in September when he had sailed for Alaska.  Tisdale’s great heart stirred, then his clear mind began to tally the rapid fire of questions and Foster’s replies.

“When were you first connected with the Prince William Development Company, Mr. Foster?”

“In the summer of 1904.”

“You were then engaged in the capacity of mining engineer at a fixed salary, were you not?” The prosecuting attorney had a disconcerting manner of arching his brows.  His mouth, taken in connection with his strong, square jaw, had the effect of closing on his questions like a trap.

“Yes,” Foster answered briefly, “I was to receive two hundred and fifty dollars a month the first year, and its equivalent in the company’s stock.”

“Did you not, at the same time, turn over to the company your interests in the Chugach Railway and Development Company?”

“Yes,” said Foster.

“And was not this railroad built for the purpose of opening certain coal lands in the Matanuska region, in which you held an interest?”

“Yes, I had entered a coal claim of one hundred and sixty acres.”

“All the law allowed to an individual; but, Mr. Foster, did you not induce others, as many as thirty persons, to locate adjoining claims with the idea that the entire group would come under one control?”

Foster colored.  “It was necessary to co-operate,” he said slowly, “in order to meet the enormous expense of development and transportation.  We wished to build a narrow-gauge road—­it was then in course of construction—­but the survey was through the Chugach Mountains, the most rugged in North America.  The cost of moving material, after it was shipped from the States, was almost prohibitive; ordinary labor commanded higher wages than are paid skilled mechanics here in Seattle.”