"I want to talk with you, John," he said, grimly, and passed on into
his private office.
The closing of the door of that sacred inner room behind John was the
signal for a buzz of excited comments.
"Lordy," gasped a stenographer to her nearest neighbor, "but I'm sorry
for poor young Mr. Ward--did you see the old man's face?"
The half-whispered remark expressed, with fair accuracy, the general
sentiment of the entire force.
Adam Ward did not sit down at his desk, but going to a window he stood
looking out as though deep in thought.
"Father," said John, at last, "what is it? Has anything happened?"
Adam turned slowly, and it was evident that he was holding his
self-control by a supreme effort of will. "I have made up my mind to
quit," he said. "From to-day on you will take my place and assume my
responsibilities in the Mill."
"I am glad, father," said John, simply, "You really should be free from
all business cares. As for my taking your place in the Mill," he
smiled, "no one could ever do that, father."
"You have full control and absolute authority from to-day on," returned
Adam. "I shall never put my foot inside the doors of the plant or the
office again."
"But, father!" cried John. "There is no need for you to--"
Adam interrupted him with an imperious gesture.
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