"
"You take my thoughts away from my work a great many times during
office hours, Helen," he retorted, as the car moved away. "Must I wait
much longer for my answer, dear?"
She replied, hurriedly, "Please, Jim, not that to-day. Let's not think
about it even."
"All right," he returned, grimly. "I just want you to know, though,
that I am waiting."
"I know, Jim--and--and you are perfectly wonderful but--Oh, can't we
forget it just for an hour?"
As if giving himself to her mood, McIver's voice and manner changed.
"Do you mind if we stop at the factory just a second? I want to leave
some papers. Then we can go on up the river drive."
* * * * *
An hour later they were returning, and because it was the prettiest
street in that part of Millsburgh, McIver chose the way that would take
them past the old house.
John Ward's machine was standing in front of the Martin cottage.
McIver saw it and looked quickly at his companion. There was no need to
ask if Helen had recognized her brother's car.
The factory owner considered the new manager of the Mill a troublesome
obstacle in his own plans for making war on the unions. He felt, too,
that with John now in control of the business, his chances of bringing
about the combination of the two industries were materially lessened.
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