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Guy rose from his seat. “It almost sounds as though you are threatening me, Mr. Huxley.”
“It isn’t a threat; it’s a warning.”
“It sounds like a threat to me, and I do not take kindly to those.”
Before Albert could reply, his father’s voice came from the doorway. “Do disregard what my son just said, Mr. Stewart,” Mr. Huxley said. “He is a halfwit.”
Albert didn’t bother to respond to his father. Instead, he swiftly exited the bank.
Mr. Huxley gestured towards the back room. “Would you care to step into my office?”
“I would.”
After Guy was situated on a chair, Mr. Huxley went around his desk and sat down. “How is your report going?”
“Frankly, I am saddened to see the conditions at the mine, and I intend to detail them at great length in my report.”
“That would be most foolish on your part.”
“Why is that?”
“The colliery is very profitable, and we wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize its earning potential.”
Guy leaned back in his chair. “I understand, but the poor women and children are suffering greatly.”
Mr. Huxley waved his hand in front of him. “Most of them are migrants,” he said. “No one cares what becomes of them.”
“That is horrible of you to say.”
“I’m afraid it is true,” Mr. Huxley replied. “If we dismissed our workers, we would have a line of people vying for their positions.”
“It still doesn’t justify the terrible conditions at the mine, especially for the children.”
“No one is forcing them to work at the colliery,” Mr. Huxley pointed out. “You must put your emotions away when dealing with business matters.”
Guy rose from his chair. “I do thank you for your advice, but I will write the report how I see fit.”
Mr. Huxley shrugged. “So be it, but I can assure you no changes will result from it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You aren’t the first inspector to have grown a conscience.”
Guy frowned. “How do you sleep at night, knowing what you know, and doing nothing to stop it?”
“Sleep has never been a problem for me,” Mr. Huxley replied.
Guy shook his head. “It is only a matter of time until an accident occurs at the mine and people die.”
“Then we will hire more workers to replace the ones that are lost,” Mr. Huxley remarked dismissively.
Guy stared at him for a moment, not believing that someone could be as cold and unfeeling as this man.
Mr. Huxley intertwined his fingers and placed them on the desk. “You are young,” he started, “and have a misplaced notion of how things should be. But we are in the business of making money, Mr. Stewart.”
“I am well aware.”
“If we enacted safety protocols for the workers, then it would cost us money,” Mr. Huxley pressed. “And we like to make money, not spend it.”
