“But I think the safest way to do,” he told, himself, “would be to have Ned make a list of all the documents in there. Then we can check them over from time to time. I’ll do that.”
So, without saying anything to his chum about the visit of Barsky, Tom told the young manager to list all the documents in the chest after attending to the fire insurance matter.
“We can’t be too careful of these invention papers,” remarked the author of many of them.
“You’re dead right you can’t,” agreed Ned.
The fire was but a small incident in the day’s work at the Swift plant. Fires in such a big shop were not at all uncommon; so matters were soon running smoothly again.
During the next two or three days Tom paid several visits to the pattern department, and each time he went there he found Barsky busily at work, using the slide rule with an expertness that gave Tom a good opinion of the fellow’s ability in his own line of work.
“I’m glad I hired him—that is, so far as getting what I wanted done,” Tom said to his father. “He makes patterns better than any man we ever had.”
“Yes, I have looked at some of the models he has turned out,” Mr. Swift replied. “But I can’t get over a certain uneasy feeling when I am near that man, Tom. It’s a sort of fear, I believe.”
“Nonsense!” laughed the young fellow. “You are imagining things, Dad. Barsky is no ten-thousand-dollar beauty, I grant you that, for he has enough hair and whiskers for a dozen sofa cushions. But we aren’t running a beauty parlor, and he does do good work.”
“Yes, Tom. Well, I’ll leave it to you. It’s more in your department than mine, anyhow. By the way, is there anything new in the case of Mr. Newton? We must do all we can to help him.”