He asked the right question.
“About twenty-four thousand excluding routine maintenance.”
The room quieted.
Eric nodded.
“Thank you.”
He looked around.
“That is the real comparison.”
“Not eleven hundred.”
“Twenty-four thousand invested.”
He asked:
“Annual productive hours?”
“Last twelve months: nine hundred eighty-six.”
“Fuel consumption average?”
Hannah gave it.
“Repair and maintenance?”
She gave it.
“Insurance?”
She gave it.
“Revenue attributable to machine-supported work?”
She hesitated.
Private.
Then decided.
“One hundred forty-six thousand gross jobs where the 648 was primary extraction or recovery equipment.”
The room changed.
Dale turned fully toward her.
Eric asked:
“Direct operating cost?”
“About forty-six thousand excluding my labor.”
“Operator labor imputed?”
“Twenty-nine thousand.”
“Transport/admin allocation?”
“Eleven.”
Eric did mental math.
“So machine-supported contribution before taxes and general business overhead roughly sixty thousand?”
“About sixty.”
Silence.
Then Eric said:
“That is excellent for the capital base.”
A contractor in the front said:
“Yeah, but a new skidder makes more.”
Eric nodded.
“Gross?”
“Yes.”
“Probably.”
He changed slides.
“Return on invested equipment capital?”
The room laughed less.
Eric continued:
“Production matters.”
“Safety matters.”
“Operator comfort matters.”
“Dealer support matters.”
“Resale matters.”
“But if you ask which machine earns more, define earns.”
“Gross production?”
“Net contribution?”
“Return on capital?”
“Owner cash flow?”
Hannah looked toward Dale.
He stared at the screen.
His company ran three newer machines.
He earned several hundred thousand dollars gross.
His payroll was larger.
So were payments.
Different business.
Not wrong.
But now the comparison had language.
After the session, contractors crowded around Hannah.
Not because they wanted to buy old Deere skidders.
Because they wanted her spreadsheet.
“How’re you tracking transport?”
“What repair reserve?”
“Do you count shop labor?”
“Your own labor?”
“Insurance allocation?”
“How do you separate chainsaw crew from machine?”
Dale stood at the edge.
Hannah caught his eye.
Three years earlier he had stood in auction mud pointing at the 648.
Now he waited for her numbers.
She smiled.
Dale raised one finger.
“Do not say it.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
Then asked:
“Send me the spreadsheet?”
Hannah pretended to think.
“Maybe.”
“Hannah.”
“Six hundred dollars.”
He stared.
“Recovery fee.”