"Here I am just the
same and so much interested already that I can't tear myself away. Come
on, let's start--that is, if you really have the time to take me."
Time to take her! John Ward would have lost the largest contract he had
ever dreamed of securing rather than miss taking Helen through the
Mill.
* * * * *
With an old linen duster, which had hung in the office closet since
Adam Ward's day, to cover her from chin to shoes, and a cap that John
himself often wore about the plant, to replace her hat, they set out.
Helen's first impression, as she stood just inside the door to the big
main room of the plant, was fear. To her gentle eyes the scene was one
of terrifying confusion and unspeakable dangers.
Those great machines were grim and threatening monsters with ponderous
jaws and arms and chains that seemed all too light to control their
sullen strength. The noise--roaring, crashing, clanking, moaning,
shrieking, hissing--was overpowering in its suggestion of the
ungoverned tumult that belonged to some strange, unearthly realm.
Everywhere, amid this fearful din and these maddening terrors, flitting
through the murky haze of steam and smoke and dust, were men with sooty
faces and grimy arms.
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