Part 15 (2/2)

They had seen this, and they felt ashamed.”

”As nearly as I can make it out,” said the judge, ”there's too many improvements going on, and not enough business. We must do something to stop these big expenses, and find a way to get more bearings sold--”

He checked himself then and looked at Mary, much as Mac had looked the previous day, just before issuing his warning.

”Perhaps he's thinking of Uncle Stanley, too,” thought Mary.

”Another bad feature is this,” continued the judge, ”the bank is getting too strong a hold on the company. We must stop that before it gets any worse.”

”Why?” asked Mary, looking very innocent.

”Because it isn't good business.”

”But Uncle Stanley is president of the bank. You don't think he'd do anything to hurt Spencer & Son; do you?”

The judge tapped his foot on the floor for a time, and then made a noise like a groan--as though he had teeth in his mind and one of them was being pulled.

”Many a time,” he said, ”I have tried to talk you out of your suspicions.

But--if it was any other man than Stanley Woodward, I would say today that he was doing his best to--to--”

”To 'do' me?” suggested Mary, more innocent than ever.

”Yes, my dear--to do you! And another year's work like this wouldn't be far from having that result.”

Curiously enough it was Mary's great idea that comforted her. Instead of feeling worried or apprehensive, she felt eager for action, her eyes s.h.i.+ning at the thoughts which came to her.

”All right,” she said, ”we'll have a meeting in a day or two. I'll wait till I get my copy of the report.”

Wally came that afternoon, and Mary danced with him--that is to say she danced with him until a freckle-faced apprentice came up from the factory with an envelope addressed in MacPherson's crabbed hand. Mary took one peep inside and danced no more.

”If the women can pick it up as quick as the men,” she read, ”I have counted 1653 places in this factory where they could be working in a few weeks time--that is, if the places were vacant. List enclosed.

Respectfully. James O. MacPherson.”

It was a long list beginning ”346 automatics, 407 grinders--”

Mary studied it carefully, and then after telephoning to the factory, she called up Judge Cutler.

”I wish you would come down to the office in about half an hour,” she said, ”.... Directors' meeting. All right. Thank you.”

”What was it dad used to call me sometimes--his 'Little Hustler'?” she thought. ”If he could see, I'll bet that's what he would call me now.”

As she pa.s.sed through the hall she looked in the drawing room to tell Helen where she was going. Helen was sitting on a chaise lounge and Wally was bending over her, as though trying to get something out of her eye with the corner of a handkerchief.

”I don't see anything,” Mary heard him saying.

”There must be something. It hurts dreadfully,” said Helen.

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