"That's what interests most of 'em—getting out of the place after the whistle blows."
"Dad!" said Hilda. "What was it interested you then, Mr. Foote?"
"The men," said Bonbright—"that great mob of men pouring out of the gates and filling the street…. Somehow they seemed to stand for the business more than all the buildings full of machinery…. I stood and watched them."
Interest kindled in Lightener's eyes. "Yes?" he prompted.
"It never occurred to me before that being at the head of a business meant—meant commanding so many men… meant exercising power over all those lives…. Then there were the wives and children at home…."
Bonbright's father leaned forward icily. "Son," he said, coldly, "you haven't been picking up any queer notions in college?"
"Queer notions?"
"Socialistic, anarchistic notions. That sort of thing."
"I don't believe," said Bonbright, with utter honesty, "that I ever gave the workingman a thought till to-day…. That's why it hit me so hard, probably."
"It hit you, eh?" said Lightener. He lifted his hand abruptly to motion to silence Mr. Foote, who seemed about to interrupt. "Leave the boy alone, Foote…. This is interesting. Never saw just this thing happen before…. It hit you hard, eh?"