A Man's Hearth

by Eleanor M. Ingram

  CHAPTER XII

  THE UPPER TRAIL

  Adriance had not spent half a year in the mill, even in the limitedcapacity of chauffeur, without observing many things. He had come torecognize flaws in that smooth-running mechanism of which he was a part.Might he not find in this fact an opportunity? He saw much that hehimself, given authority, might do to promote efficiency. He did notdelude himself with the idea that he could go into any factory as anefficiency expert; he did see that here he might fairly earn and ask fora salary that would give Elsie more luxuries than she had even known inher own home and more than he himself had learned to desire. After all,there had been no quarrel between his father and himself. When the youngman had chosen a course that he knew to be disagreeable to the older, hesimply had withdrawn from their life together as a matter of courtesyand self-respect. Since he no longer gave what was expected of TonyAdriance, he could not take Tony's privileges; now however, knowledgeof Elsie had changed the situation. His father had only to meet hiswife, Anthony felt assured, for his marriage to explain itself. Even ifMr. Adriance were disappointed by the simplicity of his son's choice andambitions, even if he preferred the brilliant Mrs. Masterson to theserene young gentlewoman as a daughter-in-law, why should there berancor between the two men? For the first time it occurred to Adriancethat his father might be lonely and welcome a reconciliation. They neverhad been intimate, but they had been companions, or at least pleasantacquaintances. The house on the Drive had not contained only servants,as now it must--servants who were merely servants, too, not thefaithful, devoted, tactful servitors of romance, but the average modernhireling. The house-keeper engaged and dismissed them and was herself ashadowy automaton, who appeared only to receive special orders andrender monthly accounts. For any atmosphere of home created in thehouse, the Adriances might as well have been established in a hotel.Anthony wondered if even Elsie could leaven that dense mass offormality, or if her art was too delicate, too subtle a combination ofheart and mind and personality to affect such conditions. He could notbe certain. He could well imagine her, daintily gowned and demurelyself-possessed, as mistress of that household; but he could not imaginethe household itself as altered very much or made less stupidlyponderous by her presence. He had not thought of this before, but now hecould not think his pleasure would be quite the same if they sattogether in state in that drawing-room he knew so well, while she toldhim the tales he had learned to delight in. It could not be quite thesame as a hearth of their own, and his pipe, burning with a coarse,outrageous energy, expressed in volumes of smoke, while Elsie leanedforward, little hands animated, gray eyes sparkling, and mimicked ordrolled or sang as the mood swayed them or the tale demanded. He knewthat he himself could never read aloud with enthusiasm and verve if Mr.Adriance listened with amused criticism. No, Anthony realized with someastonishment that he did not want to take his wife home.

  Nevertheless, the thing must be done. It was a duty. He could notselfishly continue in the way he liked so well. He must consider Elsieand the third who was to join their circle. He must pick up for themwhat he had thrown aside for himself.

  But he refused to go back to his father like a defeated incompetent toplead for his inheritance. His pride recoiled from the certainty thathis father would so regard his return; there must be a middle course. Atthe great gate to the factory yard he paused to survey again theenormous buildings with their teeming life. In more than one sense thiswas his workshop.

  There was more than the usual hubbub and confusion in the shipping-roomwhen he went down the stone incline to that vast subterranean apartment.The little wizened man in horn-rimmed spectacles, who vibrated aroundhis long platform, checking rolls and bales and boxes as they wereloaded into the trucks, had already the appearance of wearieddistraction. His thin hair was flattened by perspiration across hisknobby forehead, although it was not yet eight o'clock and freezingdraughts of air swept the place as the doors swung unceasingly open andshut. Groups of grinning chauffeurs and porters loitered in corners orbehind pillars, eying with enjoyment or indifference, as the case mightbe, the little man's bustling energy and anxiety.

  This condition had already lasted two days, like a veritable festival ofconfusion. Adriance had watched it with the utter indifference of hismates, merely attending to the duties assigned him and leaving Mr. Cookto solve his own perplexities; but this morning he hesitated beside thefiery, streaming little man. The little man caught sight of his notunsympathetic face and hailed him, calling through the tumult of cars,rattling hand-trucks, pushed by blue-shirted porters, and the complexdin of the place.

  "Here, Andy--you know New York, how long should I allow this man to goto the Valparaiso dock, unload and get back? Three hours?"

  "Two," responded Adriance, mounting the long platform beside his chief.

  "Can't be done," the chauffeur of the waiting truck sullenlycontradicted.

  "Why not?"

  "You ain't allowing for the ferry running across here only every halfhour, nor for the traffic over on the other side."

  The tone was insolent, and Adriance answered sharply, unconsciouslyspeaking as Tony rather than as Andy:

  "You don't know your business when you propose going that way. Go downthe Jersey side here where the way is open, and take the down-townferry, that runs every ten minutes. And come back by the same route."

  "Who are you----" the chauffeur began, but was curtly checked by Mr.Cook:

  "Do as you're told, Pedersen, and if I catch you at more tricks likethat you're fired. You've got two hours. Next! Herman, get your truckloaded and take the same route and time; do you hear?"

  "Yes, sir; but----"

  "Get out, and the two of you come in together."

  "Excuse me, Mr. Cook;" said Adriance, his glance taking appraisal of thesecond truck; "Herman has a cargo of heavy stuff, he can hardly get itunloaded in as short a time as Pedersen."

  The little man turned on him wrathfully.

  "Can't? Can't? They've got to get back for second trips."

  "Then give him two extra helpers."

  Mr. Cook stared at him through his spectacles, then turned and shoutedthe order. When he turned back he dried his forehead and relievedhimself by a burst of confidence.

  "There's a lot of stuff to go to South America by the boat sailing atthree o'clock. A rush order, and just when we are rushed with otherdeliveries; and Ransome is home sick. _I_ never send out the trucks; _I_don't know when they should come in or how they should go. I've got allmy own work checking over every shipment that goes out, too. It's toomuch, it can't be done. The chauffeurs are playing me, I know they are.Look at the stuff left over that ought to have been got out yesterday,not moved yet! They tell me lies about the motors breaking down; I knowthey are lies; why should half the trucks in the place break down justwhen Ransome is away? But I can't prove it."

  "Why not put a mechanic in a light machine to go out to any truck thatbreaks down, and then give orders that any man whose truck stops is to'phone in here at once?" suggested Adriance.

  This time Mr. Cook regarded him steadily for a full minute. Seizing theadvantage of the other man's attention, Adriance struck again:

  "Would you like me to take Mr. Ransome's place for the day? I know bothcities pretty well and I know your men. One of the other men can takeout my truck; Russian Mike, for instance."

  "He can't drive."

  "I beg your pardon, he drives very well; I taught him myself thiswinter."

  The little man jerked a telephone receiver from the wall beside him.

  "Mr. Goodwin! Cook, sir. I've got a man here to fill Ransome's place forthe present; one of our chauffeurs, sir. Oh, yes! Andy--I forget hislast name. He's all right, yes. I've got to have help; can't handle themen, Mr. Goodwin. All right; thank you, sir."

  He whirled about to Andy. In the brief moments of their talk thecongestion had thickened appallingly, and Mr. Cook looked at thedisorder aghast.

  "Go over to Ransome's box," he snapped; "you're appointed; and I wish
you luck! Fire them if they kick, and, you may count on it, I'll backyou up."

  Ransome's box was on a small pier run out upon the main floor, in such asituation that every vehicle leaving or entering must pass it andreport. It was railed around and contained a desk, a telephone and achair. Adriance slipped off his overcoat and cap as he walked out on thelittle elevation and took his place. The men lounging about the roomsstraightened themselves and stared up at this new arrival. A littleimprovement in calmness came over the horde at the mere sight of afigure in the post of authority.

  The invalided Ransome was missed no more. Opportunity had visitedAdriance on the day when he was inspired to seize it and attuned toaccord with it. He and his fellow chauffeurs had been very good friends,but only as their work for the same employer brought them together. Noneof them had been so intimate with him as to feel his present position aslight upon themselves. Indeed, they were a good-natured, hard-workingset, whose heckling of Mr. Cook had been as much mischief as any desireto take a mean advantage of the present situation.

  There was an authority in Adriance himself of which he was quiteconscious, a personal force that grew with exercise. He stood on hiselevation, sending out man after man with clear, reasonable orders,noting the distance, the time of departure and the time allowed for theerrand of each. He acquainted each man with the new rule concerningmachines broken down or temporarily disabled, wisely giving this as anorder of Mr. Cook's. When Russian Mike came by with Andy's truck, thebig man smiled up at the man on the pier.

  "I ain't going to bust her," he assured him; "I guess I'm a pretty gooddriver?"

  "Of course you are," laughed Adriance, leaning down to give him his slipand a hand-clasp by way of encouragement. "You're all right, Michael;take care of yourself and remember what I told you about going slow."

  "Sure!" A smile widened the broad lips. "Say, I guess it's a pretty goodthing we wasn't being checked up this way when we met that actor lady,yes?"

  "Never mind her." Adriance's color rose a trifle. "I am not holding anyone down to too close time, either; but this is a rush morning. Go alongnow."

  And Michael placidly went.

  The room began to clear before the efforts of the excitable, nervous Mr.Cook at one end and the quiet management of the young man at the otherextremity of the place. This was far more exacting work than driving oneof those motor-trucks he dispatched in such imperious fashion, Adriancesoon discovered. For he did not merely hand each driver a slip statinghis destination, as was the custom of Ransome. Under that systemAdriance knew from his own observation that hours a day were wasted bythe men. Only if a chauffeur outrageously over-staid the reasonable timefor his journey did he receive a sarcastic rebuke, which wassufficiently answered by the allegation of engine trouble. The newmethod was received with astonishment and some scowls, but withoutrevolt. Instead of each truck sent out failing to return until the noonhour, two, and even three trips were completed during the morning. Therewere some complaints, of course. Adriance cut them off in theirincipience. He was enjoying himself in spite of the strain.

  In the middle of the morning, when the trucks first sent out began tocome in again, Cook left his post for a few moments. Adriance did notsee him leave, nor did he note that two other men returned with histemporary colleague and remained standing for some time in the shadow ofthe pillared arcade around the wall, watching the proceedings on thefloor. During a lull in the coming and going, when Adriance was sortinghis piles of slips, one of these men walked out to his raised enclosure.

  "Good morning," the stranger opened.

  "Good morning," Adriance absently replied; turning his head andperceiving his visitor to be a frail little old gentleman, he offeredhim the solitary chair. Of course he knew that his visitor must beconnected with the factory, if only from the air of tranquil assurancewith which he settled his _pince-nez_ and surveyed the younger man.

  "How do you keep all those apart?" he questioned, motioning toward theslips.

  "Put them in order on a file as the men go out, then turn the heap over.The first one out should be the first one in," explained Adriance,smiling. "Of course, I have to keep together those who haveapproximately the same distance to cover. It is a very rough and readymethod, I know; but it was devised under the stress of the moment. A rowof boxes with a compartment for each truck numbered to correspond wouldbe one better way that occurs to me; but, of course, I am merely atemporary interloper."

  "My name is Goodwin; Mr. Cook did not tell me yours----?"

  The manager of the factory and his father's associate! It was the purestchance that Tony and he never had met at the Adriance house. But Mr.Goodwin belonged to an older generation than the senior Adriance, hishome was in Englewood and he rarely came to New York unless uponbusiness--the great city was distasteful to him. Something of thisAdriance recollected after his first dismay, and drew such reassurancefrom it as he might, as he answered:

  "My name is Adriance, Mr. Goodwin."

  "Adriance?"

  "Yes, sir. It is not so odd; I am a distant connection of the New Yorkfamily, I believe." He had a cloudy recollection of a witty Frenchmanwho alluded to an estranged member of his family as his "distantbrother."

  "I see, I see; after all, even somewhat unusual names are constantlyrepeated." Mr. Goodwin scrutinized the other in the glare of artificiallight that rather confused vision. "But, excuse me, you hardly speaklike a chauffeur."

  "Does not that depend on the chauffeur?" Adriance parried pleasantly. "Ihope not to remain one all my life, anyhow."

  "Ah--certainly. Mr. Cook asked me to come down and observe theimprovement in the conditions here this morning. I am pleased, muchpleased. I should have regulated the system in this department before;but these modern innovations press upon me rather fast. I looked forwardto retiring, I do indeed," he coughed impatiently and glanced vaguelyover the great room. "However, that is not the point. I should like youto keep this position, Adriance; at least until Mr. Ransome recovers. Ihear he is threatened with pneumonia."

  "I should be glad to do so, Mr. Goodwin."

  "We might use him in the office to better advantage. Well, we will tryyour system first. Write an order for any filing cabinets or apparatusyou deem necessary. Give it to Mr. Cook and I will see personally thatall is supplied. This is a critical moment on which may depend aconsiderable trade with South America. Cook tells me that more goodshave been moved this morning than in any entire day recently. We hadthought of buying more trucks."

  "I think that is not required, sir; I wish you would try my way for aweek before doing so, at least. It is only a question of using to thefull extent the materials on hand. I fancy new troubles grow up with newinstitutions, and an outsider may more easily see the remedy."

  "Yes? Young blood in the business, you think? Perhaps, perhaps."

  Two trucks roared into the place and up to Adriance's post. When he hadfinished with them and sent them on to Cook's end of the room, he turnedback to Mr. Goodwin; but that gentleman, satisfied as to the improvedconditions, was already stepping into the elevator to return to his ownoffices above.

  "Seventy-three, the old top is," remarked Cook, running over to pass hisfellow-worker a mass of memoranda. "Keen as ever, but not up-to-date,that is all. Here--these to the dock, these to the Erie yards; thisstraight to the decorator on Fifth Avenue, who is waiting for it--it's aspecial design landscape-paper for a club grill-room on Long Island.Rush the one to the steamer--Long Island and Buffalo can wait."

  "You were mighty good to help me that way," said Adriance. He took theslip, regarding the little man with a glance in which many thoughts met.He smiled at one of these, and his face became warmly kind for aninstant and rather startled Cook.

  "You helped me out of a scrape by volunteering this morning," Cookanswered, a trifle abruptly. "I only asked him to come see how thingswere going. You are to keep on here?"

  "Yes, for the present."

  "Glad of it! Ever do this kind of work before?"

  "Handli
ng trucks?"

  "No; handling men."

  Adriance considered.

  "Only on a yacht, I think."

  A group of four trucks came in. Outside a whistle began to blow; othersjoined the clamor and a gong clanged heavily through the intermittentshudder of the machinery-crowded building. Twelve o'clock! Cook hurriedaway to his own men, who had fallen idle with the surprising promptnessof the true workmen; and the examination was ended. Adriance foresawthat it would recommence, but he was indifferent. He cared very littlehow soon his father discovered him, now that he had resolved to seek hisfather as soon as he saw his way a little more clearly.

  He was profoundly gratified and excited by this morning's success. Itgave him self-confidence, and it enabled him to ask a share in thefactory's management with something more tangible to offer his fatherthan the mere assertion that he saw improvements to be made. He actuallyhad accomplished something. He would save many thousands of dollars byutilizing the machines on hand instead of purchasing more of the costlymotor-trucks, with their expenses of upkeep, additional chauffeurs, andinevitable deterioration from use.

  He walked out into the cold, fresh air to glimpse the sunshine and coolhis hot flush of satisfaction. He thought of Elsie with a passion oftenderness and triumph. He resolved that he would not tell her of hisplans until they were better assured. He must begin to shelter her fromexcitement or possible disappointment. No, he would not speak of thereconciliation he hoped to effect with his father; not yet. But ofcourse he would tell her of his new position in the factory, and theywould exult over it together. Adriance decided he would wait until theirdinner was over and cleared away, then he would draw her down beside himin the firelight and astonish her.

  There was a little lunch cart across the way, much frequented bychauffeurs, car-conductors and ferry-men. He went there for his lunch,as he usually did when noon found him near the factory. It seemed to himthat there was already a little difference in the way the fellow-workerswhom he found there treated him. Already they seemed to feel that he wasmoving away from them--had taken the upper trail, as it were. Indeed, hefelt a change in himself not to be denied. It was not arrogance, merelythe assurance of a man who sees a definite path before him and followsit to his own end; he had ceased to live from day to day.

  But he was quite sure that he would never forget this day. If he had ason he would tell him about this when he reached manhood. And he wouldbe his son's guide to this satisfaction of work accomplished, lest hemiss it altogether, as Tony himself so nearly had done. There were to beno worthless Adriances.