“I will pay you to take me up to the plant,” said Ralph, “as quickly as you can.”
“You’ll pay me nothing,” replied the other. “You needn’t be afraid of any trouble until midnight. Dorsett is too keen to overslip the law in any way. His men may hang around and dog your footsteps and spy about and all that, but they’ll do no harm until Dorsett has the power right in his hands. Then--look out.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Ralph reflectively.
His guide went with him until they came to the factory. Here he left Ralph, saying he was almost starved and must get a good meal.
The factory was a grim-looking, isolated, one-story stone building. One end was rounded with brick and had heavy iron shutters. The front was a kind of office. Behind it was an iron partition and a windowless stretch of factory room fully fifty feet in length.
Ralph tried the front door and found it locked. In a minute or two, however, a big, stalwart man with a face of considerable character came from the inner room. He did not open the door, but stood at a window and called out:
“What do you want?”
“Are you Mr. Bartlett?” inquired Ralph.
“That’s me.”
“I am a friend to Mr. Glidden, and I come here from his lawyer.”