Nearly every one smiled when he finished an interview with Adam Ward's
son; probably because John himself nearly always smiled when he ended a
consultation or gave an order.
"That's all from my side, George," he said, leaning back in his chair
and looking up at the superintendent in his open, straightforward way
that so surely invited confidence and trust. "Have you anything else on
your mind?"
"Nary a thing, John," returned the older man, and with a parting "so
long" he started toward the door that opened into the Mill.
With that smile of genuine affection still lingering on his face, John
watched the sturdy back of the old superintendent as if, for the
moment, his thoughts had swung from George Parsons' work to George
Parsons himself.
The superintendent opened the door and was about to step out when he
stopped suddenly and with a quick, decided movement drew back into the
room and closed the door again. To the young man in the other end of
the big office it looked as though the superintendent had seen
something that startled him. Another moment and George was again
bending over John's desk.
"The old man is out there, John."
"What! Father! Why I had no idea that he was coming down to-day." A
look of anxiety came into the frank gray eyes.
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