“Don’t know or don’t care anything about that,” replied Griffiths senior, feeling that his son was a little jealous and in consequence disposed to be unfair to Clyde. “That’s no place for him and I won’t have him there any longer. He’s been there long enough. And I can’t afford to have the name of any of this family come to mean anything but just what it does around here now – reserve and ability and energy and good judgment. It’s not good for the business. And anything less than that is a liability. You get me, don’t you?”
“Yes, I get you all right, governor.”
“Well, then, do as I say. Get hold of Whiggam and figure out some other place for him around here, and not as piece worker or a hand either. It was a mistake to put him down there in the first place. There must be some little place in one of the departments where he can be fitted in as the head of something, first or second or third assistant to some one, and where he can wear a decent suit of clothes and look like somebody. And, if necessary, let him go home on full pay until you find something for him. But I want him changed. By the way, how much is he being paid now?”
“About fifteen, I think,” replied Gilbert blandly.
“Not enough, if he’s to make the right sort of an appearance here. Better make it twenty-five. It’s more than he’s worth, I know, but it can’t be helped now. He has to have enough to live on while he’s here, and from now on, I’d rather pay him that than have any one think we were not treating him right.”
“All right, all right, governor. Please don’t be cross about it, will you?” pleaded Gilbert, noting his father’s irritation. “I’m not entirely to blame. You agreed to it in the first place when I suggested it, didn’t you? But I guess you’re right at that. Just leave it to me. I’ll find a decent place for him,” and turning, he proceeded in search of Whiggam, although at the same time thinking how he was to effect all this without permitting Clyde to get the notion that he was at all important here – to make him feel that this was being done as a favor to him and not for any reasons of merit in connection with himself.
And at once, Whiggam appearing, he, after a very diplomatic approach on the part of Gilbert, racked his brains, scratched his head, went away and returned after a time to say that the only thing he could think of, since Clyde was obviously lacking in technical training, was that of assistant to Mr. Liggett, who was foreman in charge of five big stitching rooms on the fifth floor, but who had under him one small and very special, though by no means technical, department which required the separate supervision of either an assistant forelady or man.
This was the stamping room – a separate chamber at the west end of the stitching floor, where were received daily from the cutting room above from seventy-five to one hundred thousand dozen unstitched collars of different brands and sizes. And here they were stamped by a group of girls according to the slips or directions attached to them with the size and brand of the collar. The sole business of the assistant foreman in charge here, as Gilbert well knew, after maintaining due decorum and order, was to see that this stamping process went uninterruptedly forward. Also that after the seventy-five to one hundred thousand dozen collars were duly stamped and transmitted to the stitchers, who were just outside in the larger room, to see that they were duly credited in a book of entry. And that the number of dozens stamped by each girl was duly recorded in order that her pay should correspond with her services.
For this purpose a little desk and various entry books, according to size and brand, were kept here. Also the cutters’ slips, as taken from the bundles by the stampers were eventually delivered to this assistant in lots of a dozen or more and filed on spindles. It was really nothing more than a small clerkship, at times in the past held by young men or girls or old men or middle-aged women, according to the exigencies of the life of the place.
The thing that Whiggam feared in connection with Clyde and which he was quick to point out to Gilbert on this occasion was that because of his inexperience and youth Clyde might not, at first, prove as urgent and insistent a master of this department as the work there required. There were nothing but young girls there – some of them quite attractive. Also was it wise to place a young man of Clyde’s years and looks among so many girls? For, being susceptible, as he might well be at that age, he might prove too easy – not stern enough. The girls might take advantage of him. If so, it wouldn’t be possible to keep him there very long. Still there was this temporary vacancy, and it was the only one in the whole factory at the moment. Why not, for the time being, send him upstairs for a tryout? It might not be long before either Mr. Liggett or himself would know of something else or whether or not he was suited for the work up there. In that case it would be easy to make a re-transfer.
Accordingly, about three in the afternoon of this same Monday, Clyde was sent for and after being made to wait for some fifteen minutes, as was Gilbert’s method, he was admitted to the austere presence.
“Well, how are you getting along down where you are now?” asked Gilbert coldly and inquisitorially. And Clyde, who invariably experienced a depression whenever he came anywhere near his cousin, replied, with a poorly forced smile, “Oh, just about the same, Mr. Griffiths. I can’t complain. I like it well enough. I’m learning a little something, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Well, I know I’ve learned a few things, of course,” added Clyde, flushing slightly and feeling down deep within himself a keen resentment at the same time that he achieved a half-ingratiating and half-apologetic smile.
“Well, that’s a little better. A man could hardly be down there as long as you’ve been and not know whether he had learned anything or not.” Then deciding that he was being too severe, perhaps, he modified his tone slightly, and added: “But that’s not why I sent for you. There’s another matter I want to talk to you about. Tell me, did you ever have charge of any people or any other person than yourself, at any time in your life?”
“I don’t believe I quite understand,” replied Clyde, who, because he was a little nervous and flustered, had not quite registered the question accurately.
“I mean have you ever had any people work under you – been given a few people to direct in some department somewhere? Been a foreman or an assistant foreman in charge of anything?”
“No, sir, I never have,” answered Clyde, but so nervous that he almost stuttered. For Gilbert’s tone was very severe and cold – highly contemptuous. At the same time, now that the nature of the question was plain, its implication came to him. In spite of his cousin’s severity, his ill manner toward him, still he could see his employers were thinking of making a foreman of him – putting him in charge of somebody – people. They must be! At once his ears and fingers began to titillate – the roots of his hair to tingle: “But I’ve seen how it’s done in clubs and hotels,” he added at once. “And I think I might manage if I were given a trial.” His cheeks were now highly colored – his eyes crystal clear.
“Not the same thing. Not the same thing,” insisted Gilbert sharply. “Seeing and doing are two entirely different things. A person without any experience can think a lot, but when it comes to doing, he’s not there. Anyhow, this is one business that requires people who do know.”
He stared at Clyde critically and quizzically while Clyde, feeling that he must be wrong in his notion that something was going to be done for him, began to quiet himself. His cheeks resumed their normal pallor and the light died from his eyes.
“Yes, sir, I guess that’s true, too,” he commented.
“But you don’t need to guess in this case,” insisted Gilbert. “You know. That’s the trouble with people who don’t know. They’re always guessing.”
The truth was that Gilbert was so irritated to think that he must now make a place for his cousin, and that despite his having done nothing at all to deserve it, that he could scarcely conceal the spleen that now colored his mood.
“You’re right, I know,” said Clyde placatingly, for he was still hoping for this hinted-at