The living
bodies, minds, and souls that, moving here and there in the haze of
smoke and steam and dust, vitalized the inanimate machinery and gave
life and intelligent purpose to the whole, were no more to him than one
of his adding machines in the office that, mechanically obedient to his
touch, footed up long columns of dollars and cents. It is not strange
that the humanity of the Mill should respond to the spirit of its owner
with the spirit of his adding machines and give to him his totals of
dollars and cents--with nothing more.
Quickly the feeling of Adam Ward's presence spread throughout the busy
plant. Smiling faces grew grim and sullen. In the place of good-natured
jest and cheerful laugh there were muttered curses and contemptuous
epithets. The very atmosphere seemed charged with antagonism and
rebellious hatred.
"Wad ye look at it?" said one. "And they tell me that white-faced old
devil used to work along side of Pete and the Interpreter at that same
bench where Pete's a-workin' yet."
"He did that," said another. "I was a kid in the Mill at the time;
'twas before he got hold of his new process."
"Pete Martin is a better man than Adam Ward ever was or will be at
that--process or no process," said a third, while every man within
hearing endorsed the sentiment with a hearty word, an oath or a pointed
comment.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133