The Gibson Upright | Page 2

decides to use the pencil, sharpens it without going to a wastebasket over by the desk; then beamingly looks about the room. He is about to strike a chord on the piano, seems alarmed by the idea, moves away from it, dusts the lapel of his coat, adjusts his collar, studies the posters, shakes his head over them as if they were not to his taste, goes to the desk, and after studying it smiles at the rose and gives it a kittenish peck with his forefinger. NORA comes back and MIFFLIN turns to her with his benevolent smile.]
NORA [going back to her work at the piano]: He'll be right here.
[GIBSON appears in the open doorway, speaking with crisp determination to someone not seen.]
GIBSON: That's my last word on it; that's in accordance with the agreement you signed two weeks ago.
A HARSH VOICE: We don't care nothin' about no agreement!
GIBSON: That's all!
[He comes in. He is a man of thirty-something; well but not clubbishly dressed; an intelligent, thoughtful face; a man of affairs. Just now he is exercising some self-control over irritations which have become habitual, but he is not uncordial, merely quiet, during his greeting of MIFFLIN.]
NORA: This is Mr. Mifflin, Mr. Gibson.
GIBSON: How do you do, Mr. Mifflin.
MIFFLIN [heartily, as they shake hands]: I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Gibson! I hope you don't mind my not writing to you myself for this interview.
GIBSON: Not at all!
MIFFLIN [taking a chair]: I heard Miss Gorodna speak at a meeting two nights ago--
GIBSON: Yes?
MIFFLIN: And learning that she was one of your employees I asked her to speak to you about it for me.
GIBSON: I see.
MIFFLIN: Now, in the first place, Mr. Gibson--
[There is a telephone on GIBSON'S desk; its bell rings.]
GIBSON: Excuse me a moment!
[At the telephone]: Hello!... Yes--Gibson.... Oh, hello, McCombs!... Yes. I want you to buy it.... I want you to buy all of that grade wire you can lay your hands on. Get it now and go quick. All you can get; I don't care if it's a three years' supply. There'll be a shortage within a month.... No; I don't want any more of the celluloid mixture.... No, I don't want it. They can't make a figure good enough. I've got my own formula for keys and we're going to make our own mixture.... I'm going to have my own plant for it right here. I can make it just under fifty per cent, better than I can buy it.... Wait a minute! I want you to get hold of that lot of felt over in 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 "Co?peration 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