But once in this and walking about, how different it all seemed to the world to which so recently he had beenaccustomed. For here, as he had thus far seen, all was on a so much smaller scale. The depot, from which only ahalf hour before he had stepped down, was so small and dull, untroubled, as he could plainly see, by muchtraffic. And the factory section which lay opposite the small city--across the Mohawk--was little more than a redand gray assemblage of buildings with here and there a smokestack projecting upward, and connected with thecity by two bridges--a half dozen blocks apart--one of them directly at this depot, a wide traffic bridge acrosswhich traveled a car-line following the curves of Central Avenue, dotted here and there with stores and smallhomes.
But Central Avenue was quite alive with traffic, pedestrians and automobiles. Opposite diagonally from thehotel, which contained a series of wide plate-glass windows, behind which were many chairs interspersed withpalms and pillars, was the dry-goods emporium of Stark and Company, a considerable affair, four stories inheight, and of white brick, and at least a hundred feet long, the various windows of which seemed bright andinteresting, crowded with as smart models as might be seen anywhere. Also there were other large concerns, asecond hotel, various automobile showrooms, a moving picture theater.
He found himself ambling on and on until suddenly he was out of the business district again and in touch with awide and tree-shaded thoroughfare of residences, the houses of which, each and every one, appeared to possessmore room space, lawn space, general ease and repose and dignity even than any with which he had ever been incontact. In short, as he sensed it from this brief inspection of its very central portion, it seemed a veryexceptional, if small city street--rich, luxurious even. So many imposing wrought-iron fences, flower-borderedwalks, grouped trees and bushes, expensive and handsome automobiles either beneath porte-cocheres within or speeding along the broad thoroughfare without. And in some neighboring shops--those nearest Central Avenueand the business heart where this wide and handsome thoroughfare began, were to be seen such expensive-looking and apparently smart displays of the things that might well interest people of means and comfort-motors,jewels, lingerie, leather goods and furniture.
But where now did his uncle and his family live? In which house? What street? Was it larger and finer than anyof these he had seen in this street?
He must return at once, he decided, and report to his uncle. He must look up the factory address, probably in thatregion beyond the river, and go over there and see him. What would he say, how act, what would his uncle sethim to doing? What would his cousin Gilbert be like? What would he be likely to think of him? In his last letterhis uncle had mentioned his son Gilbert. He retraced his steps along Central Avenue to the depot and foundhimself quickly before the walls of the very large concern he was seeking. It was of red brick, six stories high-almosta thousand feet long. It was nearly all windows--at least that portion which had been most recently addedand which was devoted to collars. An older section, as Clyde later learned, was connected with the newerbuilding by various bridges. And the south walls of both these two structures, being built at the water's edge,paralleled the Mohawk. There were also, as he now found, various entrances along River Street, a hundred feetor more apart--and each one, guarded by an employee in uniform--entrances numbered one, two and three-whichwere labeled "for employees only"--an entrance numbered four which read "office"--and entrances fiveand six appeared to be devoted to freight receipts and shipments.
Clyde made his way to the office portion and finding no one to hinder him, passed through two sets of swingingdoors and found himself in the presence of a telephone girl seated at a telephone desk behind a railing, in whichwas set a small gate--the only entrance to the main office apparently. And this she guarded. She was short, fat,thirty-five and unattractive.
"Well?" she called as Clyde appeared.
"I want to see Mr. Gilbert Griffiths," Clyde began a little nervously.
"What about?""Well, you see, I'm his cousin. Clyde Griffiths is my name. I have a letter here from my uncle, Mr. SamuelGriffiths. He'll see me, I think."As he laid the letter before her, he noticed that her quite severe and decidedly indifferent expression changed andbecame not so much friendly as awed. For obviously she was very much impressed not only by the informationbut his looks, and began to examine him slyly and curiously.
"I'll see if he's in," she replied much more civilly, and plugging at the same time a switch which led to Mr.
Gilbert Griffiths' private office. Word coming back to her apparently that Mr. Gilbert Griffiths was busy at themoment and could not be disturbed, she called back: "It's Mr. Gilbert's cousin, Mr. Clyde Griffiths. He has aletter from Mr. Samuel Griffiths." Then she said to Clyde: "Won't you sit down? I'm sure Mr. Gilbert Griffithswill see you in a moment. He's busy just now."And Clyde, noting the unusual deference paid him--a form of deference that never in his life before had beenoffered him--was strangely moved by it. To think that he should be a full cousin to this wealthy and influentialfamily! This enormous factory! So long and wide and high--as he had seen--six stories. And walking along theopposite side of the river just now, he had seen through several open windows whole rooms full of girls andwomen hard at work. And he had been thrilled in spite of himself. For somehow the high red walls of thebuilding suggested energy and very material success, a type of success that was almost without flaw, as he sawit.
He looked at the gray plaster walls of this outer waiting chamber--at some lettering on the inner door whichread: "The Griffiths Collar & Shirt Company, Inc. Samuel Griffiths, Pres. Gilbert Griffiths, Sec'y."--andwondered what it was all like inside--what Gilbert Griffiths would be like--cold or genial, friendly or unfriendly.
And then, as he sat there meditating, the woman suddenly turned to him and observed: "You can go in now. Mr.
Gilbert Griffiths' office is at the extreme rear of this floor, over toward the river. Any one of the clerks inside willshow you."She half rose as if to open the door for him, but Clyde, sensing the intent, brushed by her. "That's all right.
Thanks," he said most warmly, and opening the glass-plated door he gazed upon a room housing many over ahundred employees--chiefly young men and young women. And all were apparently intent on their duties beforethem. Most of them had green shades over their eyes. Quite all of them had on short alpaca office coats or sleeveprotectors over their shirt sleeves. Nearly all of the young women wore clean and attractive gingham dresses oroffice slips. And all about this central space, which was partitionless and supported by round white columns,were offices labeled with the names of the various minor officials and executives of the company--Mr. Smillie,Mr. Latch, Mr. Gotboy, Mr. Burkey.
Since the telephone girl had said that Mr. Gilbert Griffiths was at the extreme rear, Clyde, without muchhesitation, made his way along the railed-off aisle to that quarter, where upon a half-open door he read: "Mr.
Gilbert Griffiths, Sec'y." He paused, uncertain whether to walk in or not, and then proceeded to tap. At once asharp, penetrating voice called: "Come," and he entered and faced a youth who looked, if anything, smaller and alittle older and certainly much colder and shrewder than himself--such a youth, in short, as Clyde would haveliked to imagine himself to be--trained in an executive sense, apparently authoritative and efficient. He wasdressed, as Clyde noted at once, in a bright gray suit of a very pronounced pattern, for it was once moreapproaching spring. His hair, of a lighter shade than Clyde's, was brushed and glazed most smoothly back fromhis temples and forehead, and his eyes, which Clyde, from the moment he had opened the door had felt drillinghim, were of a clear, liquid, grayish-green blue. He had on a pair of large horn-rimmed glasses which he wore athis desk only, and the eyes that peered through them went over Clyde swiftly and notatively, from his shoes tothe round brown felt hat which he carried in his hand.
"You're my cousin, I believe," he commented, rather icily, as Clyde came forward and stopped--a thin andcertainly not very favorable smile playing about his lips.
"Yes, I am," replied Clyde, reduced and confused by this calm and rather freezing reception. On the instant, as henow saw, he could not possibly have the same regard and esteem for this cousin, as he could and did have for his uncle, whose very great ability had erected this important industry. Rather, deep down in himself he felt that thisyoung man, an heir and nothing more to this great industry, was taking to himself airs and superiorities which,but for his father's skill before him, would not have been possible.
At the same time so groundless and insignificant were his claims to any consideration here, and so grateful washe for anything that might be done for him, that he felt heavily obligated already and tried to smile his best andmost ingratiating smile. Yet Gilbert Griffiths at once appeared to take this as a bit of presumption which oughtnot to be tolerated in a mere cousin, and particularly one who was seeking a favor of him and his father.
However, since his father had troubled to interest himself in him and had given him no alternative, he continuedhis wry smile and mental examination, the while he said: "We thought you would be showing up to-day or tomorrow.
Did you have a pleasant trip?""Oh, yes, very," replied Clyde, a little confused by this inquiry.
"So you think you'd like to learn something about the manufacture of collars, do you?" Tone and manner wereinfiltrated by the utmost condescension.
"I would certainly like to learn something that would give me a chance to work up, have some future in it,"replied Clyde, genially and with a desire to placate his young cousin as much as possible.
"Well, my father was telling me of his talk with you in Chicago. From what he told me I gather that you haven'thad much practical experience of any kind. You don't know how to keep books, do you?""No, I don't," replied Clyde a little regretfully.
"And you're not a stenographer or anything like that?""No, sir, I'm not."Most sharply, as Clyde said this, he felt that he was dreadfully lacking in every training. And now GilbertGriffiths looked at him as though he were rather a hopeless proposition indeed from the viewpoint of thisconcern.
"Well, the best thing to do with you, I think," he went on, as though before this his father had not indicated tohim exactly what was to be done in this case, "is to start you in the shrinking room. That's where themanufacturing end of this business begins, and you might as well be learning that from the ground up.
Afterwards, when we see how you do down there, we can tell a little better what to do with you. If you had anyoffice training it might be possible to use you up here." (Clyde's face fell at this and Gilbert noticed it. It pleasedhim.) "But it's just as well to learn the practical side of the business, whatever you do," he added rather coldly,not that he desired to comfort Clyde any but merely to be saying it as a fact. And seeing that Clyde said nothing,he continued: "The best thing, I presume, before you try to do anything around here is for you to get settledsomewhere. You haven't taken a room anywhere yet, have you?""No, I just came in on the noon train," replied Clyde. "I was a little dirty and so I just went up to the hotel tobrush up a little. I thought I'd look for a place afterwards.""Well, that's right. Only don't look for any place. I'll have our superintendent see that you're directed to a goodboarding house. He knows more about the town than you do." His thought here was that after all Clyde was a fullcousin and that it wouldn't do to have him live just anywhere. At the same time, he was greatly concerned lestClyde get the notion that the family was very much concerned as to where he did live, which most certainly itwas NOT, as he saw it. His final feeling was that he could easily place and control Clyde in such a way as tomake him not very important to any one in any way--his father, the family, all the people who worked here.
He reached for a button on his desk and pressed it. A trim girl, very severe and reserved in a green ginghamdress, appeared.
"Ask Mr. Whiggam to come here."She disappeared and presently there entered a medium-sized and nervous, yet moderately stout, man who lookedas though he were under a great strain. He was about forty years of age--repressed and noncommittal--andlooked curiously and suspiciously about as though wondering what new trouble impended. His head, as Clyde atonce noticed, appeared chronically to incline forward, while at the same time he lifted his eyes as though actuallyhe would prefer not to look up.
"Whiggam," began young Griffiths authoritatively, "this is Clyde Griffiths, a cousin of ours. You remember Ispoke to you about him.""Yes, sir.""Well, he's to be put in the shrinking department for the present. You can show him what he's to do. Afterwardsyou had better have Mrs. Braley show him where he can get a room." (All this had been talked over and fixedupon the week before by Gilbert and Whiggam, but now he gave it the ring of an original suggestion.) "Andyou'd better give his name in to the timekeeper as beginning to-morrow morning, see?""Yes, sir," bowed Whiggam deferentially. "Is that all?""Yes, that's all," concluded Gilbert smartly. "You go with Whiggam, Mr. Griffiths. He'll tell you what to do."Whiggam turned. "If you'll just come with me, Mr. Griffiths," he observed deferentially, as Clyde could see--andthat for all of his cousin's apparently condescending attitude--and marched out with Clyde at his heels. Andyoung Gilbert as briskly turned to his own desk, but at the same time shaking his head. His feeling at the momentwas that mentally Clyde was not above a good bell-boy in a city hotel probably. Else why should he come onhere in this way. "I wonder what he thinks he's going to do here," he continued to think, "where he thinks he'sgoing to get?"And Clyde, as he followed ............