he missed them. Perhaps it was intention. Courtland went
early. He wanted to see things for himself; went alone first. Afterward
he could go the rounds to satisfy Mr. Thomas, but first he would see it
alone.

Then, after all, it was the Rev. Robert Burns who met him at the door
and took him through the factory, bent on seeing some parishioner on an
errand of love. And there was that strange sense of the Presence having
been there before them, walking about among the machinery, looking at
the tired face of one, sorrowing over the wrinkles in another forehead,
pitying the weary hands that toiled, blessing the faithful! It reminded
him of the morgue in that. For a minute he began to think that if the
Presence was here in this peculiar sense, then, of course, it was an
indication that he was needed here to work for these people, as Uncle
Ramsey had tried with strange worldly wisdom to make him understand. But
then, suddenly, he caught a glimpse of the face of the little minister,
white under its freckles, with a righteous wrath as he fixed his gaze
sternly on the door at the end of the long room. He looked up quickly to
hear the click of a key in a lock as the foreman passed from one room to
another.

He glanced down at the minister and their eyes met.

"They lock them in here like sheep in a pen. If a fire should break out
they would all die!" said the minister under his breath. His lips were
trembling with the helplessness of himself against the power of a great
trust.

"You don't say!" said Courtland, startled. It was his first view of
conditions of this sort. He looked about with eyes alive to things he
had not seen before. "But I thought this was a model factory! Isn't it
absolutely fire-proof?"

"Somewhat so, on the _out_side!" shrugged Burns. "It's a whited
sepulcher, that's what it is. Beautiful marble and vines, beautiful
rest-room and library--for the _visitors_ to rest and read in--beautiful
restaurant where the girls must buy their meals at the company's prices
or go without; beautiful outside everywhere; but it's rotten,
_absolutely rotten_ all through! Look at the width of that staircase!
That's the one the employees use. The visitors only see the broad way by
which you came up. Look at those machines! All painted and gilded! They
are old models and twice as heavy to work as the new ones, but we can't
get them to make changes. Look at those seats, put there to impress the
visitors! The fact is not one o