From the new arrivals, fixers, case-hardeners and temperers were set to work—women who had learned their trades during the war.
Also a call was issued for local workers and the "school" was opened, larger than ever. For the first few weeks it might be said that half the factory was a school of intensive instruction; and then, one day which Mary will never forget, a few lonely looking bearings made laborious progress through the plant—only a few, but each one embodying a secret which I will tell you about later.
The missing bridges weren't completed yet, you understand—not by any manner of means—but at least the foundations had been laid, and every day the roadway became a little wider and a little firmer—and the progress of the bearings became a little thicker and a little quicker.
And, oh, the enthusiasm of the women—their shining eyes, their breathless attention—as they felt the roadway growing solid beneath their feet and knew it was all their work!
"If we keep on at this rate," said Archey, looking at the reports in Mary's office one morning, "it won't be long before we're doing something big."
There was just the least touch of astonishment in his voice—masculine, unconscious—which raised an equally unconscious touch of exultation in Mary's answer.
"Perhaps sooner than you think," she said.
For no one knew better than she that the new organization was rapidly finding itself now that the roadway of production had been rebuilt. Every day weak spots had been mended, curves straightened out, narrow places made wider.
"Let's speed up today," she finally said, "and see what we can do."
At the end of that day the reports showed that all the departments had made an improvement until the bearings reached the final assembling room and there the traffic had become congested. For the rest of the week the assembly room was kept under scrutiny, new methods were tried, more women were set to work.