Helen of the Old House Part 17

And John returned these greetings in the same good spirit of fellows.h.i.+p. To one it was, "h.e.l.lo, Tony, how is that new baby at your house?" To another, whose hand was swathed in a dirty bandage, "Take care of that hand, Mack; don't get funny with it just because it's well enough to use again." To another, "How is the wife, Frank, better?

Good, that's fine." Again it was, "You fellows on number six machine made a record this week." Again, "Who's the hoodoo on number seven furnace?--four accidents in six days is going some--better look around for your Jonah." And again, "I heard about that stunt of yours, Bill; the kid would have been killed sure if you hadn't kept your head and nerve. It was great work, old man." And to a lad farther down the line, "You'll know better next time, won't you, son?" But there were some who pa.s.sed John Ward with averted faces or downcast eyes. Here and there there were sneering, vicious glances and low muttered oaths and curses and threats. Not infrequently the name of Jake Vodell was mentioned with approved quotations from the agitator's speeches of hatred against the employer cla.s.s.

The last of the long line of workmen was approaching the window when Pete Martin greeted the son of his old bench mate with a smile of fatherly affection and pride.

"h.e.l.lo, Uncle Pete," returned John. "Where is Charlie?"

"I'm sure I don't know, John," the old man answered, looking about. "I supposed he had gone on, I was a little slow myself."

"There he is," said John, as the soldier workman came running from a distant part of the building.

When Captain Charlie came up to them, his father moved on to the window so that for a moment the two friends were alone.

"It's come, Charlie," said John, in a low tone. "Father told me and gave it out to the superintendent to-day."

"Hurrah!" said Charlie Martin, and he would have said more but his comrade interrupted him.

"Shut up, will you? We must go out to the hill to-morrow for a talk.

I'll come for you early."

"Right!" said Charlie with a grin, "but may I be permitted to say congratulations?"

"Congratulations your foot!" returned the new general manager. "It's going to be one whale of a job, old man."

The last of the stragglers came near and Charlie Martin moved on, in his turn, to the pay window.

When John arrived home in the late afternoon, his sister met him with many joyful exclamations. "Is father in earnest? Are you really to take his place, John?"

John laughed. "You would have thought he was in earnest if you had heard him." Then he asked, soberly, "Where is father, Helen; is he all right?"

"He has been shut up in his room all alone ever since he told us," she returned, sadly. "I do hope he will be better now that he is to have complete rest."

As if determined to permit no cloud to mar the joy of the occasion, she continued, with eager interest, "Do tell me about it, brother. Were the men in the office glad? Aren't you happy and proud? And how did the workmen take it?"

"The people in the office were very nice," he answered, smiling back at her. "Good old George looked a little like he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. The men in the plant don't know yet, except Charlie--I told him."

A little shadow fell over Helen's happy face and she looked away. "I suppose of course you would tell Charlie Martin the first thing," she said, slowly. Then, throwing her arm suddenly about his neck, she kissed him. "You are a dear, silly, sentimental old thing, but I am as proud as I can be of you."

"As for that," returned John, "I guess it must run in the family somehow. I notice little things now and then that make me think my sister may not always be exactly a staid, matter-of-fact old lady owl."

When he had laughed at her blushes, and had teased her as a brother is in duty bound, he said, seriously, "Will you tell me something, Helen?

Something that I want very much to know--straight from you."

"What is it, John?"

"Are you going to marry Jim McIver?"

"How do you know that he wants me?"

"Father told me to-day. Don't fence please, dear. Either tell me straight out or tell me to mind my own business."

She replied with straightforward honesty, "Mr. McIver has asked me, John, but I can't tell you what my answer will be. I don't know myself."

CHAPTER X

CONCERNING THE NEW MANAGER

When the Mill whistle sounded at the close of that pay day, Mary was sitting under the tree in the yard with her sewing basket--a gift from the Interpreter--on the gra.s.s beside her chair. The sunlight lay warm and bright on the garden where the ever industrious bees were filling their golden bags with the sweet wealth of the old-fas.h.i.+oned flowers.

Bright-winged b.u.t.terflies zigzagged here and there above the shrubbery along the fence and over her head; in the leafy shadows of the trees her bird friends were cheerfully busy with their small duties. Now and then a pa.s.sing neighbor paused to exchange a word or two of their common interests. Presently workmen from the Mill went by--men of her father's cla.s.s who lived in that vicinity of well-kept cottage homes; and each one called a greeting to the daughter of his friend.

And so, at last, Peter Martin himself and Captain Charlie turned in at the little white gate and came to sit down on the gra.s.s at her feet.

"You are late to-day," said Mary, smiling. "I suppose you both have forgotten that the vegetable garden is to be hoed this afternoon and that you, Charlie, promised to beat the rugs for me."

Captain Charlie stretched himself lazily on the cool gra.s.s. "We should worry about gardens and rugs and things," he returned. "This is the day we celebrate."

The father laughed quietly at his daughter's look of puzzled inquiry.

"The day you celebrate?" said Mary. "Celebrate what?"

Charlie answered with a fair imitation of a soapbox orator, "This, my beloved sister, is the day of our emanc.i.p.ation from the iron rule of that cruel capitalist, who has for so many years crushed the lives of his toiling slaves in his Mill of h.e.l.l, and coined our heart's blood into dollars to fill his selfish coffers of princely luxury. Down through the ringing ages of the future this day will be forever celebrated as the day that signals the dawning of a new era in the industrial world of--uh-wow! Stop it!"

Captain Charlie was ticklish and the toe of Mary's slippered foot had found a vital spot among his ribs.

"You sound like that Jake Vodell," she said. "Stop your nonsense this minute and tell me what you mean or--" Her foot advanced again threateningly.

Captain Charlie rolled over to a safe distance and sat up to grin at her with teasing impudence.

"What's the matter with him, father?" she demanded.

But Pete only laughed and answered, "I guess maybe he thinks he's going to get promoted to some higher-up position in the Mill."

"No such luck for me!" said Charlie quickly. "John will need me too much right where I am."

A bright color swept into Mary's cheeks and her eyes shone with glad excitement. "Do you mean that John--that his father has--" She looked from her father's face to her brother and back to her father again.

Pete nodded silently.

"You've guessed it, sister," said Charlie. "Old Adam walked out for good to-day, turned the whole works over to John--troubles, triumphs, opportunities, disasters and all. And it's a man's sized job the boy has drawn, believe me--especially right now, with Jake Vodell as busy as he is."

"The men in the Mill were all pleased with the change, weren't they?"

asked Mary.

"They will be, when they hear of it," answered Captain Charlie, getting to his feet. "That is," he added, as he met his father's look, "most of them will be."