“It has been the habit of our family to hold aloof from our employees.  We do not come directly into contact with them.  Intercourse between us and them is invariably carried out through intermediaries.”

Bonbright waited for his father to continue.

“You are being discussed by every man in the shops.  This is peculiarly unfortunate at this moment, when a determined effort is being made by organized labor to force unionism on us.  The men have the notion that you are not unfriendly toward unionism.”

“I don’t understand it,” said Bonbright.  “I don’t know what my feelings toward it may be.”

“Your feelings toward it,” said his father with decision, “are distinctly unfriendly.”

Again Bonbright was silent.

“Last evening,” said his father, “you mingled with the men leaving the shops.  You did a thing no member of our family has ever done—­ consented to an interview with a professional labor agitator.”

“That is hardly the fact, sir. ...  I asked for the interview.”

“Which is worse. ...  You even, as it is reported to me, agreed to talk with this agitator at some future time.”

“I asked him to explain things to me.”

“Any explanations of labor conditions and demands I shall always be glad to make.  The thing I am trying to bring home to you is that the men have gotten an absurd impression that you are in sympathy with them. ...  Young men sometimes come home from college with unsound notions.  Possibly you have picked up some socialistic nonsense.  You will have to rid yourself of it.  Our family has always arrayed itself squarely against such indefensible theories. ...  But the thing to do at once is to wipe out any silly ideas your indiscretion may have aroused among our workingmen.”

“But I am not sure—­”

“When you have been in this business ten years I shall be glad to listen to your matured ideas.  Now your ideas—­your actions at least-must conform to the policy we have maintained for generations.  I have called some of our department heads to my room.  I believe I hear them assembling.  Let us go in.”

Bonbright followed his father mechanically.  The next room contained some ten or twelve subordinate executives who eyed Bonbright curiously.

“Gentlemen,” said the elder Foote, “this is my son, whom you may not have met as yet.  I wish to present him to you formally, and to tell you that hereafter he and I share the final authority in this plant.  Decisions coming from this office are to be regarded as our joint decisions—­except in the case of an exception of immediate moment. ...  As you know, a fresh and determined effort is afoot to unionize this plant.  My son and I have conferred on the matter, but I have seen fit to let the decision rest with him-as to our policy and course of action.”

The men looked with renewed curiosity at the young man who stood, white of face, with compressed lips and troubled eyes.