Eckstein was gripping the arms of his chair and setting his teeth deep into his cigar while the probabilities were getting themselves threshed out.  At the end of the dispute he said quietly:  “It’s a hell of a pity we can’t have the use of the wire for this one night.  But, gentlemen, we can’t stop for trifles.  There are five of us here in this room who know how much is at stake.  One of two things is due to happen.  If we can keep Adair out of it for another twelve hours, Ford will be disgraced and asked to resign.  If he gets to that point, we’re safe.  I know Ford’s temper.  If Mr. Colbrith puts it as he is likely to put it, Ford will say and do things that will make it impossible for Adair or any one else to get him back into the service.”

“Thrue for you, Misther Eckstein; ye have ‘im down to the crossin’ of a ’t’,” agreed the eldest of the brothers MacMorrogh.

“That is one of the due things,” Eckstein went on smoothly.  “The other isn’t pretty to look at.  If Adair gets here in time, it will be another story.  He can handle Ford; and he has proved once or twice that he can handle Mr. Colbrith.  If he hadn’t been out of the way when you went to New York with Mr. North, you’d never have seen the thin edge of this contract, Brian.  Well, then what happens?  With Adair on the ground to back him, Ford wins out.  Do you know what that means?  Investigations, muck-rakings, and worse.  There are two or three of us here, and some more on the other side of the range, who won’t get off with less than ten years apiece.  I’m willing to take the chance of a few more years for another play on the red.  How is it with the rest of you?”

The elder MacMorrogh spread his hands.

“It’s all in the same boat we are.  You’ve a notion in the back par-rt of your head, Misther Eckstein; lave us have it.”

“As I’ve said, we can’t stick at trifles.  If Adair’s train is on the extension, it mustn’t get here.  Somebody goes up the line on a hand-car to-night and stops it.”

“Is it to ditch it, ye mane?” asked the youngest of the brothers in a hoarse whisper.

Eckstein laughed cynically.  “What a lot of crude cutthroats you are!” he jeered.  “Now if it were Ford, instead of Adair—­but pshaw! a rail or two taken up and flung into the river well beyond walking distance from this camp does the business.  Only the man who does it wants to make sure he has gone far enough back to cover all the possible chances.”

“That’s me,” said Dan MacMorrogh; and he rose and let himself out, with the younger brother to lock the door behind him.

The door-keeping attended to, the younger brother drew closer into the circle.

“There’s wan thing,” he said, looking furtively at Eckstein.  “I was in Copah this day:  I got the buckboards for Misther Colbrith.  Goin’ past the bank, who would I see but our old bookkeeper, Merriam, chinnin’ wid the bank president.  I thought he was out o’ the way entirely.”