THE PARTNERS DO A LITTLE TALKING.
Mr. Forbes was at his office in the store early the next morning after
his interview with Mr. Watkins. He would have been glad to stay away for
another day, but there were many details of the business that needed his
attention. Sam Watkins, his office boy, was not waiting for him as
usual, but Mr. Forbes was confident that he could find him when he
wanted him. He looked around for his assistant, but he was absent also.
This fact was more annoying, because it aroused his suspicions.
"Bolted!" he muttered with an angry frown. "Ten to one he's run away and
I'll never get my money."
Then he smiled a little, for he knew that Watkins had no funds with
which to make his escape, but even if he had there were many ways of
catching him.
As he seated himself at his desk both of his partners entered, and there
were expressions of condolence offered in a punctilious manner.
"Sometimes I think that we fathers are all wrong," remarked Mr. Denton,
after the condolences were over. "We bind ourselves hand and foot in the
bondage of business, and all for what--our wives and children! If they
needed such a sacrifice we would not begrudge it, but the more they have
the more they want, until the head of the family is a mere automaton--a
machine to pamper useless folly."
This was a lengthy speech for the senior partner to make, as he was
naturally a reticent man, who allowed others to do the talking.
"You may be right," remarked Mr. Day pompously, "still, you must admit
that wealth brings advantages even to us who slave--we can drop business
cares and go abroad now and then--our time is our own beyond a certain
figure."
"I have never reached that figure," said Mr. Forbes, very dryly, "and
further, when I drop the reins the horses run wild, for be as careful as
you may in the choice of employees there is never one who will not take
advantage of your absence--the exceptions are so rare that they are
scarcely worth mentioning."
"Well, I for one am getting discouraged," said Mr. Denton. "There's that
boy of mine, Jim; how is he repaying my efforts?"
There was no answer to his question, but he did not expect one. After a
moment's silence he finished his observations.
"If that boy had a million he would spend it in a month, yet no one has
ever yet accused him of being vicious. I've set him up in business and
everything else--he's had money and an example, but with it all, what is
he?"
"Perhaps you are not strict enough," suggested Mr. Day, who was thanking
his stars at that moment that he had no children.
"It will take something besides discipline to make a man of Jim."
Mr. Denton sighed as if he was very unhappy.
"Oh, he'll marry and settle down some day," said Mr. Day, laughing.
"When he has a family to support he'll take life more seriously."
"I wish he had one," said Mr. Denton, speaking quickly, "but I hope
he'll marry a working girl and not a 'society lady.'"
Both of his partners looked up in unfeigned surprise, but it was evident
that the words had been said deliberately.
"There's a girl, a packer, down in the ribbon department. I've only seen
her once, but she's a perfect beauty. That's the kind of a girl that
would make a good wife; she's not afraid of work and she's honestly
religious."
Mr. Forbes and Mr. Day were almost gasping now, but Mr. Denton went
right on as though his words were not extraordinary.
"When that Miss Jennings died this girl held her in her arms. She's not
over seventeen, yet death did not even frighten her. In that poor girl's
last hour she was her only comfort, and if I ever saw an angel I saw
one at that moment."
Some one tapped on the door, but no one rose to open it. Mr. Denton
waited a moment and then went on with his subject.
"I don't remember how I happened to be in the basement that day. Oh,
yes, I do. Mr. Forbes was away, and Mr. Gibson sent for me. I was
waylaid on the first floor by one of those Government Inspectors; she
went with me to the cloak-room. I simply couldn't stop her! When I got
there that girl, Miss Jennings, was dying, and what do you think, with
her very last breath she looked me in the face, and said she 'forgave'
me."
"What!"
Mr. Day leaned forward with astonishment on his features.
Mr. Forbes half arose from his chair, and then fell back heavily.
Before he spoke again Mr. Denton began pacing the office floor. He was
becoming more and more disturbed as he continued his recital.
"They tell me that girl has been with us six years, and that she has
never lost a day except from sickness. She was a consumptive
always--inherited it from her mother--but in spite of it, she had to
work to support herself and a brother. She was getting ten dollars a
week at the time she died, yet the cashier tells me that her checks for
one hour alone have frequently amounted to twenty dollars. I tell you,
this bit of information has set me to thinking, and the outcome of my
thoughts is a simple question: 'Are we men or brutes?' That is what I
want to know, and as it concerns you two as well as me, I'm going to ask
you to answer it!"
There was the silence of death in the superintendent's office. Even Mr.
Denton stood perfectly still as he asked his question.
Suddenly Mr. Day raised his head with a little jerk. His cheeks became
inflated as he tried to assume his usual bearing.
"It is possible we have been a little thoughtless," he said sweetly,
"but our subordinates should attend to these matters; that is what they
are paid for."
Mr. Forbes wheeled around in his chair and faced the speaker.
"I have hired no subordinates on that basis," he said distinctly. "My
orders have been to get all the work possible out of a clerk, and when
they were incompetent or in any way useless, turn them out and get new
ones, and I believe that I have acted with the full consent of my
partners."
Mr. Day looked crestfallen for about a minute.
"Oh, if you put it that way, why, of course, Mr. Forbes. We could not
expect to sell our goods with a lot of dummies behind our counters."
"We've had worse than 'dummies,'" spoke up Mr. Denton. "We've had
skeletons and lunatics and almost corpses! Just go down and look at
them, men, women and children! There's not ten healthy human beings on
any floor in the building; yet they came to us, many of them, glowing
with health, like Miss Marvin."
"Are they worse than at other stores?" asked Mr. Day, sullenly.
"I don't know," was the answer; "but that doesn't matter."
"They get their pay regularly," said Mr. Forbes. "Further, we do not
solicit their services, nor compel them to stay with us."
"No; we merely take advantage of their wretched conditions to secure
their services cheap," said Mr. Denton bitterly; "then instead of
bettering their lot we grind them lower and lower, until at last they
die either forgiving or cursing us."
There was another silence more oppressive than the first; then Mr. Day
rose slowly and started to leave the office.
"We are exciting ourselves foolishly, I think," he said loftily;
"neither you nor I, my partners, can hope to remedy the conditions of
labor."
He closed the door softly, and was free from the unpleasant atmosphere
of the office.
As he did so, a young girl stepped out of the elevator and walked
directly to the door which he had just closed behind him. He turned and
looked at her--she was as a saint. Almost instinctively it came to him
what his partner had said, that she was "not afraid of work and was
honestly religious."
"Pshaw! What nonsense!" he muttered. "Think of our patterning after a
saint! It is strange how death will upset some men, but they'll get over
it when they hear the money jingling!"
He opened the door to his private office just as a boy came upstairs
with a message from Mr. Gibson.
"Mr. Watkins was taken to the hospital last night," it read; "are we
expected to do anything? There's a reporter from the _Herald_."
"I'll send down the answer in a moment," he said to the boy, "or, wait;
tell Mr. Gibson to say that we are looking into the case, and if our
employee is found to be deserving he will be cared for by the firm. The
reporter can call again if he wishes anything further."
With the note in his hand he went back to the superintendent's office.