Newark; the syndicate’s after it, but I want you to beat them to it.  Don’t go to Johnson.  You go to Hendricks—­he’s Johnson’s brother-in-law.  You tell him as my purchasing agent you’ve come to finish the talk I had with him the other night.  You’ll find that does it....  All right.  Wait!  Call me up to-morrow afternoon; I’m on the track of a stock of that brass we’ve been using.  We may get three-eighths of a cent off on it.  I’ll know by that time.  All right!...  All right! [Then he hangs up the receiver and turns to MIFFLIN.] Where do you propose to publish this interview, Mr. Mifflin?

MIFFLIN [cheerily]:  Oh, I shall select one of the popular magazines in sympathy with my point of view in these matters.  You probably know my articles.  Numbers of them have been translated.  One called “Cooeperation and Brotherhood” has been printed in thirteen languages and dialects, including the Scandinavian.  But I expect this to be my star article.

GIBSON:  Why?

MIFFLIN:  Because your factory here is so often called a model factory. “The model factory!” [He repeats the phrase with unction.]

GIBSON [wearily]:  Yes, model because it has the most labour trouble!

MIFFLIN [enthusiastically]:  That is the real reason why it will be my star article.  As you may know from my other articles this problem is where I am in my element.

GIBSON:  Yes; I understood so from Miss Gorodna.

     [Giving him an inimical glance, NORA closes the top of
     piano, and moves to go. GIBSON checks her with a slight
     gesture.]

GIBSON:  Would you mind staying, Miss Gorodna?  Miss Gorodna knows more about one side of this factory than I do, I’m afraid, Mr. Mifflin.  We may need her for reference, especially as she seems to be the ringleader of the insurgents.

MIFFLIN [with jovial reproach]:  Now, now!  Before we come to that, Mr. Gibson, suppose we get at the origin of this interesting product. [He waves to the sample piano.] Let’s see!  I understand it was never your own creation, Mr. Gibson; that you inherited this factory from your father.

GIBSON:  Oh, no, I didn’t.

NORA [challenging]:  What! [She checks herself.] I beg your pardon!

GIBSON:  The piano factory I inherited from my father was about one third this size.

MIFFLIN [genially; always genial]:  Nevertheless, you inherited it.  We know that everything grows with the times, naturally.  Let us simply state that it was a capitalistic family inheritance.

NORA [under her breath but emphatically]:  Yes!

MIFFLIN:  Up to the time of your inheriting it, you, I suppose, had led the usual life of pleasure of the wealthy young man?

GIBSON:  I’d been through school and college and through every department of the factory.  That wasn’t hard; it was a pretty run-down factory, Mr. Mifflin.