“Baseless?” echoed Ford.  “Surely you don’t doubt ...  Why, Mr. Colbrith, this strike is the biggest thing that has happened in the mining world since the discovery of the wedge-veins in Cripple Creek!”

The president shrugged his thin shoulders as one whose mission in life is to be sturdily conservative after all the remainder of mankind has struck hands with frenzied optimism.

“Nonsense!” he rasped contemptuously.  “What happens?  Two men come to town with certain rich specimens which they claim to have taken out of their prospect hole on Cow Mountain.  That was at seven o’clock last night, less than twenty-four hours ago, and some two or three thousand lunatics have already rushed here in the belief—­founded upon a mere boast, it may be—­that a great gold reef underlies Cow Mountain.  By this time to-morrow—­”

Ford took him up promptly.  “Yes; and by this time to-morrow the Denver Mining Exchange will be howling itself hoarse over Copah mining shares, like those curb-stone fellows down-stairs; the hunt will be up, and every feeder the Pacific Southwestern system has will be sending its quota of gold-seekers to the new field.  That isn’t what you were going to say, I know; but it is what is going to happen.  Mr. Colbrith, it’s the chance of a century for the Pacific Southwestern company, and you are deliberately trying to fire the one man who can make the most of it.”

The president’s lack of sense of humor made it hard for him at times.  He was sitting very erect in the straight-backed hotel chair when he said:  “Mr. Ford, there are occasions when your conceit is insufferable.  Do you imagine for a moment that you are the only engineer in the United States who can build railroads, Sir?”

“Oh, no.”

“Then perhaps you will be good enough to explain your meaning?”

“It was a poor attempt at a jest,” said the young man, rather lamely.  “Yet it had the truth behind it, in a way.  I predict that this is the beginning of one of the biggest mining rushes the world ever saw.  We are within one hundred and forty miles of Copah with a practicable railroad; we are within twelve miles with a track which must be made practicable while the band plays.  If you discharge your entire engineering corps at this crisis—­”

“I beg your pardon,” interrupted the president crustily.  “I have not asked your force to resign.”

“Not meaning to, perhaps,” countered the young man, maliciously rejoicing in the hope that he had found one vulnerable link in the president’s coat of mail.  “But if I go, the entire department will go.  Every man in it is my friend, as well as my subordinate; and they know very well that if they shouldn’t go, your new chief would fire them and put in his own men.”

“Ha!” said the president, straightening up again.  “Am I to understand that you are threatening me, Mr. Ford.”

“No, indeed; I am only stating a fact.  But it is a pretty serious fact.  Let us suppose, for the sake of the argument, that my prediction comes true; that within thirty-six or forty-eight hours Saint’s Rest is packed with people trying to get to Copah.  Your new chief, if you shall have found him, will hardly be in the saddle.  When he comes he will have to reorganize the department, break in new men, learn by hard knocks what I have been learning in detail—­”