Not a man moved. Sinclair and Karg smiled at each other, and with no apparent embarrassment McCloud himself smiled. "I like to see men loyal to their bosses," he said good-naturedly. "I wouldn't give much for a man that wouldn't stick to his boss if he thought him right. But a question has come up here, boys, that must be settled once for all. This wreck-looting on the mountain division is going to stop--right here--at this particular wreck. On that point there is no room for discussion. Now, any man that agrees with me on that matter may step over here and I'll discuss with him any other grievance. If what I say about looting is a grievance, it can't be discussed. Is there any man that wants to come over?" No man stirred. "Sinclair, you've got good men," continued McCloud, unmoved. "You are leading them into pretty deep water. There's a chance yet for you to get them out of serious trouble if you think as much of them as they do of you. Will you advise them to go back to work--all except Karg?" Sinclair glared in high humor. "Oh, I couldn't do that! I'm discharged!" he protested, bowing low. "I don't want to be over-hasty," returned McCloud. "This is a serious business, as you know better than they do, and there will never be as good a time to fix it up as now. There is a chance for you, I say, Sinclair, to take hold if you want to now." "Why, I'll take hold if you'll take your nose out of my business and agree to keep it out." "Is there _any_ man here that wants to go back to work for the company?" continued McCloud evenly. It was one man against thirty; McCloud saw there was not the shadow of a chance to win the strikers over. "This lets all of you out, you understand, boys," he added; "and you can never work again for the company on this division if you don't take hold now." "Boys," exclaimed Sinclair, better-humored every moment, "I'll guarantee you work on this division when all the fresh superintendents are run out of the country, and I'll lay this matter before Bucks himself, and don't you forget it!" "You will have a chilly job of it," interposed McCloud. "So will you, my hearty, before you get trains running past here," retorted the wrecking boss. "Come on, boys." The disaffected men drew off. The emptied wagon, its load scattered on the ground, stood deserted on the hillside, and the mules drooped in the heat. Bill Dancing, a giant and a dangerous one, stood lone guard over the loot, and Young had been called over by McCloud. "How many men have you got with you, Reed?" "Eleven." "How long will it take them to clean up this mess with what help we can run in this afternoon?" Young studied the prospect before replying. "They're green at this sort of thing, of course; they might be fussing here till to-morrow noon, I'm afraid; perhaps till to-morrow night, Mr. McCloud."