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 of the hands dare use them, except a
minute now and then when the foreman happens to leave the room! They
know they will get docked in their pay if they are caught sitting down
at their work! And yet it is always flaunted before the visitors that
the workmen can sit down when they like.
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