“Ah, yes, you’re referring to Ginny, of course. That was a long time ago, Senator.” He flexed his hands; they ached, the skin callused from wielding pickaxes and shovels. He felt suddenly weary, and disgusted. Blue eyes hardened, and he said softly, “You have no scruples when it comes to making a profit, why would it bother you to get rid of a man who gets in your way?”

“It wouldn’t.” Brandon’s flinty gaze held his. “But you have influential friends and contacts, men who could ruin me. I have worked too hard to take the chance of losing it all now. This mine promises to be the most profitable venture yet. With a railroad to get the ore out more efficiently, we stand to be the richest men in America. You could profit as well.”

“I don’t think I could stand the stench of the blood on my hands.” Steve stood abruptly, saw Brandon brace himself, and said softly, “These men are treated as little more than animals. If you insist upon using prisoners, at least treat them as men instead of beasts.”

“Until I arrived today, I had no idea they were being ill used. For the love of God, Morgan, I’m not uncivilized!”

“I’d like to believe that. Recent events, however, make it a bit difficult. What are you doing here?”

Brandon gave him a sour look. “I came to investigate my interests. A man cannot always trust subordinates to take care of his business as well as he would.”

“I suppose you learned that from Hearst.”

“A consummate businessman, you must admit.”

“Better than Jay Gould,” Steve replied cynically, “but not by much. One of your investors, I presume, another shark in the waters. I would think a man such as yourself, worried about his reputation with the voters, would be more careful about who he went into business with. It would be a shame if it became known that you condone the use of virtual slavery in your mines. What would your constituents have to say about that? Seems to me the stigma of using slaves has a nasty connotation to it lately. Maybe some of the men who put you here condone slavery, but that war is over. How would it look if they found out about these conditions?”

Clearly irritated, Brandon’s knuckles whitened on the head of his cane and he scowled. “I pay the Mexican government for workers, and they provide them. I cannot dictate their policies toward prisoners.”