CHAPTER I.
THE SHUT DOWN
"Oh Jack! how blue you look!"
"I feel blue, Deb," answered Jack Willington, as he entered the door ofhis modest home and gave his sister the brotherly kiss he knew she wasexpecting.
"Is there something the matter up at the tool works, Jack?"
"Yes, Deb. The works are going to shut down."
"To shut down?" repeated the girl, her eyes wide open in affright, forshe knew only too well what such a calamity meant. "When will theyclose?"
"To-morrow. In fact we have quit on the regular work already."
"And how long will the shut-down last?"
"Nobody knows. I asked Mr. Johnson--he's the foreman, you know--and hesaid he thought a month or six weeks, but he wasn't sure."
"A month! Oh, Jack, it's an awfully long time!"
And Deb Willington's face grew very grave.
"I know it is--longer than I care to remain idle, even if I could affordto, which I can't. But that's not the worst of it."
"No?"
"No; they didn't pay us for the last two weeks' work."
"Why not?"
"Johnson said that they wanted to pay off every man in full, and thatthe figuring would take several days."
"And you won't get any money till then?"
"Not a cent. My private opinion is that the company is in some sort ofa financial difficulty, and only want to gain time. Mont didn't have aword to say about it when I asked him, and, I imagine he knows a gooddeal about his uncle's affairs."
Deb cast down her eyes in a meditative way.
"To-morrow is rent day," she said, after a pause.
"I know it. I've been thinking of it all the way home. How much havewe got toward paying the six dollars?"
"Three dollars and a half." And Deb brought forth the amount from hersmall purse.
"Humph! I don't see what's to be done," mused Jack, as he removed hishat and sat down. "Mr. Hammerby will have to wait for his money."
"Will he?"
"I don't see what else he can do. But, aside from that, three dollarsand a half won't keep us a month. I'll have to look elsewhere forwork."
Deborah and John Willington were orphans. Their father had died some tenyears before. He had been a strong, industrious and ingeniousmachinist, of a quiet nature, and at his demise left his wife and twochildren with a small property, which, however, was subject to amortgage of several hundred dollars.
His widow found it no easy matter to get along. Jack was but seven yearsof age and Deb five, and, of course, could do little or nothing, exceptoccasionally to "help mamma."
Mrs. Willington in her reduced circumstances had taken in sewing, andalso opened a school for little children, and by these means had earneda scanty living for her family.
But it was not long before the strain began to tell upon the bravewoman. She was naturally delicate, and grew weaker slowly but surely,until, eight years later, she quietly let slip the garment she wasmaking, folded her hands, and peacefully went to join her husband in theGreat Beyond.
Deb and Jack were terribly startled when the sad event occurred. Theywere utterly alone in the world. It was true that there were distantrelatives upon their mother's side, but they had always been too proudto notice the Willington family, and now made no attempt to help theorphans.
Shortly after the mother's funeral, the mortgage on the homestead felldue, and as it could not be met, the place went under the auctioneer'shammer.
Realty in Corney, as the factory town was called, was not booming at thetime, and, as a consequence, when all the costs were paid, only onehundred dollars and the furniture remained as a start in life for thetwo children.
They had no home, no place to go. What was to be done?
A kind neighbor spoke of adopting Deb, and another obtained for Jack ajob in the Tool Company's works.
But the two would not separate. When Jack mentioned it, Deb sobbed andclung to him, until he declared that she should remain with him nomatter what happened.
At this time Jack earned eight dollars a week, and had the prospect of araise. With this amount they rented three rooms for six dollars amonth, and Deb, young as she was, took upon herself the important dutiesof housekeeping.
Things moved crudely at first, but it was so nice to be together, towork for one another, that, excepting for their recent bereavement,which still hung as a heavy cloud over their lives, they lived ashappily as "two bugs in a rug."
Jack thought the world of his sister Deb. He was a rather silentfellow, with a practical turn of mind, not given overmuch to fun making,and his sister's bright and cheerful way was just what was needed tolift his mind out of the drudge-rut into which it was wont to run.
He spent all his evenings in her company, either at home or, when theweather was fine, in strolling around Corney, or in attendance upon someentertainment that did not cost much money, and which gave Deb keenenjoyment. Sometimes, when he got the chance, he would do odd jobs athis bench on the sly, and then, with the extra money thus earned, wouldsurprise Deb by buying her something which he knew she desired, butwhich their regular means would not afford.
Jack was now earning twelve dollars a week and they lived much morecomfortably than before. During the past three years they had savedquite a neat sum, but a month of severe illness for Deb had now reducedthem to their original capital of one hundred dollars, which wasdeposited in the Mechanics' Savings Bank of Corney--a sum that both haddecided should not be touched unless it became absolutely necessary.
Young as he was, Jack understood the machinist's trade thoroughly. Hetook a lively interest in his work, and the doing of jobs on his ownaccount had led him to erect a small workbench at home.
Here he often experimented upon various improvements in machinery,hoping at some time to invent that which might bring him in asubstantial return.
One of his models--a planing machine attachment--was nearly completed,and this had been considerably praised by Mr. Benton, a shrewdspeculator in inventions of various kinds.
"I'm afraid we'll have to draw part of that hundred dollars from thebank," observed Jack as the two were eating the neat supper Deb hadprepared. "I hate to do it, but I don't see any way out of it."
"It does seem a shame, after we've kept it so long," returned hissister. "But do as you think best. Only, Jack, dear, please don'tworry. It will all come out right in the end."
Her brother had laid down his knife and fork and was resting his chin onhis hand in deep meditation.
"You're right, Deb," he exclaimed starting up, "and I ought to bethankful for what we have got, especially for having such a good littlesister to ease things up."
"Say, Jack," suddenly began Deb, struck with an idea, "you are so handywith the tools, why don't you open a little shop of your own? Wouldn'tit pay?"
Jack's face brightened more than it had for many a day.
"I'm glad you said that," he replied. "I've often thought of it. But Ihated to give up a certainty like my wages for----"
"Yes, but now----" began Deb.
"One misfortune gives me a chance to tempt another." He gave a sorrylittle laugh. "Is that what you mean?"
"You'll get along--never fear."
"There ought to be a chance, true enough. I could sharpen tools, repairlawn mowers and bicycles, and mend all sorts of things. There is nosuch shop in Corney as yet, and it ought to pay."
"How much would it cost to start?" asked Deb, with great interest.
"I think fifty or sixty dollars would put me into shape to do smallwork. I have most of the tools, and would only need a lathe and one ortwo other things--that I could get second-hand."
"I'll tell you what to do then," was Deb's conclusion; "to-morrowmorning, go down to the bank and draw out seventy-five dollars. Thenwe'll pay the rent, and you can take the rest and try your luck."
"Yes, but----"
"No buts, Jack; I'
m willing to put up with whatever comes--bad luck aswell as good. I'm sure you'll succeed."
"If your good wishes count for anything, I certainly shall," exclaimedJack, earnestly. "I think I can rent a shop for ten dollars a month,or, maybe, if I pay a little more, I can get one with living roomsattached, which would be cheaper than hiring two places."
"And nicer, too," returned Deb; "you wouldn't have to go so far fordinner, and I could attend to customers while you were away."
The pair talked in this strain for over an hour. His sister's sanguineway of looking at the matter made the young machinist feel as if perhapsthe shut-down was not such a bad thing, after all, and might prove theturning point to something better than they had ever before known.
The next morning, for the first time in several years, Jack hadbreakfast late. It was soon over, and then he put on his good clothesand started for the bank.
The streets were thronged with idle men. The Corney Tool Companyemployed nearly a thousand persons--in fact, it was by far the principalfactory in the place--and to have all these employes thrown out of workwas a calamity discussed by everyone.
The Mechanics' Savings Bank had been organized by Mr. Felix Gray, theowner of the tool works, who presided over both places. He was a man offifty, with an unusually sharp and irritable disposition.
As Jack approached the bank he noticed a large crowd collected in andaround the building.
"I suppose, as they can't get their pay, they want to withdraw some oftheir savings," was his thought as he drew nearer.
An instant later a queer cry came from the interior of the bank, and itwas quickly taken up by those outside.
"What is it?" asked the young machinist, of a bystander.
"They've suspended payment," was the short reply.
"What!" gasped Jack, in horror. "You don't mean it?"
But at the same time the crowd cried out loudly, in angry tones:
"The bank's burst! She's gone up for good! No money for the poor man!We can all starve!"