"In fact," Mr. Rogers said to the Assistant Manager, "Mr. Lawson, I think I'll give him over to you."
"Sir," he again addressed me, "you are under the orders of Mr. Lawson. You will report to him, take his orders, his advice, and I hope that everything will be right." As he finished he politely led us to the door. "Good-bye, sir. Let's hope you will accomplish the right kind of work for us."
We entered the office of the Assistant Manager. Mr. B. soon excused himself and left the room. Mr. Lawson let me wait fully ten minutes before he addressed a word to me. He busied himself with the different papers in the pigeon holes of his desk, but this was only pretence, I felt right along, to impress me with his superior rank.
After having satisfied himself that he had accomplished this, he said to me, still looking at the papers:
There was no chair except the one right near his desk, so I had to remain standing.
"Oh, yes," and he offered the chair near his desk. I had hardly seated myself when he stood up, and making a wry face said:
"I haven't any time to-day to give you instructions. We'll leave it for to-morrow. Meanwhile, I'll turn you over to Mr. Cram. He might be of use to you, as he has had a great deal of experience in this line of work."
He rang for the office boy. "Call Mr. Cram," was the order. A few seconds later Mr. Cram, a young man of about twenty, appeared. Mr. Lawson introduced me and told Cram to keep me at his desk for the afternoon. It was one o'clock.
We passed through all the offices, where he introduced me to a few of the other employees, and then proceeded to the basement.
The place was in half darkness, cold and dreary, and I stumbled along. Near the windows, towards the street, was a desk, and near the desk a gas oven. Cram put a chair near the desk, and as my eyes became accustomed to the semi-darkness I began to distinguish men, women and children sitting on the benches at the farther end of the cellar.
Mr. Cram again inquired my name, remembered that he had read some of my stories, shook hands again with me and added that he was himself a "red hot Socialist," "a reformer" of the real kind, and he grew very friendly. I had lit a cigarette, but seeing a "No smoking" sign I put it out.