Jonathan Radbourne, though a good man
to work for and, as Jim Blaisdell had said and David soon found, by no
means a fool. There was no hint of masterfulness about him, which was
because he never thought of himself as a master. He never gave orders
and never reproved; he made polite requests and sometimes, gently and
apologetically, he showed where mistakes had been made. If you
happened to do about what you were paid for doing, he beamed with
delight and thanked you as though you had done him a favor. He was
always busy and nearly always on the move, flitting back and forth
between office and shop with hopping little strides that made him more
robin-like than ever, and really accomplished a great deal. But he
often found time for friendly little chats with his employees on topics
that had no connection with the business, such as the babies at home,
the rheumatic old mother, the state of the heart or the lungs; he made
it a specialty to know all their troubles. And he always was
smiling--on that mouth it was really a grin--a crooked cheery smile
that made others smile, too, and he never acknowledged bad weather.

From the first he made a habit of seeking out David. His manner on
such occasions was one of shy wistful friendliness, not quite sure of
its welcome, that gave David an impulse to pat him on the head and say,
"There, there, little man! It's all right. You're my chief and my
time is all yours--though _I'd_ rather use it for work." However, he
never said that, but was always respectful and polite. He took
advantage of these chats to learn more of his duties. With unwearied
patience Jonathan explained them, as well as other details of the
business, expressing delight at David's interest.

David saw that he had much to learn and he had grave doubts that he was
earning his salary. He knew next to nothing of mechanics and did not
always understand when Jonathan or Hegner, the foreman, explained some
new device for which drawings were needed. But that wrought no change
in Jonathan's manner.

"I'm afraid," he would say, "we weren't very clear on that." And he
would go over the explanation once more.

When the drawings were correct: "Very good!" he would beam. "I wish I
could draw as beautifully as you."

"Do you think," David asked on one such occasion, when he had been in
the position nearly a month, "that I'm really the man you want?
Sometimes I seem pretty slow."

"Oh, you mustn't think that,