Frank shrugged his shoulders.
“Perhaps he knows better than the girl’s parents,” he observed dryly. “He’d better look her up on our registers, or he might ask to see her certificate.”
Ned laughed. He made an impatient gesture.
“Good heavens, Frank,” he snapped; “as if ’twas our fault that they lie so about the kids’ ages! They’d put a babe in arms at the frames if they could. But McGinnis—by the way, where did you get that fellow? and how long have you had him? I can’t remember when he wasn’t here. He acts as if he owned the whole concern, and had a personal interest in every bobbin in it.”
“That’s exactly it,” laughed Frank. “He has a personal interest, and that’s why I keep him, and put up with some of his meddling that’s not quite so pleasant. He’s as honest as the daylight, and as faithful as the sun.”
“Where did you get him? He must have been here ages.”
“Ages? Well, for twelve—maybe thirteen years, to be exact. He was a mere boy, fourteen or fifteen, when he came. He said he was from Houghtonsville, and that he had known Dr. Harry Spencer. He asked for work—any kind, and brought good references. We used him about the office for awhile, then gradually worked him into the mills. He was bright and capable, and untiring in his efforts to please, so we pushed him ahead rapidly. He went to night school at once, and has taken one or two of those correspondence courses until he’s acquired really a good education.
“He’s practically indispensable to me now—anyhow, I found out that he was when he was laid up for a month last winter. He stands between me and the hands like a strong tower, and takes any amount of responsibility off my shoulders. You’ll see for yourself when you’ve been here longer. The hands like him, and will do anything for him. That’s why I put up with some of his notions. They’re getting pretty frequent of late, however, and he’s becoming a little too meddlesome. I may have to call him down a peg.”
“You’d think so, I fancy, if you had heard him run on about this mill-girl half an hour ago,” laughed Ned. “He said he should speak to you.”
“Very good. Then I can speak to him,” retorted the other, grimly.