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Updated: May 25, 2025
The bliss of being the lightener of your sorrows was reserved by Heaven for a less criminal creature. I did not even know that you were in prison.
He knew costs down to the last bolt or washer on the machine he made, and it was the work of minutes only to determine what price he could afford to pay for the engines he wanted. His runabout carried him to the entrance to Bonbright Foote, Incorporated, and he hurried up the stairs to the office. "Mr. Foote in?" he snapped. "Just returned, Mr. Lightener." "Want to see him right off quick."
He approached his desk in the morning with loathing, and left it at night without relief. Hopelessness was upon him and he could not flee from it; it was inescapable. True, he sought relief. Malcolm Lightener had become his fast friend a sort of life preserver for his soul.
But Bonbright did not come back that day, nor was he visible at home that night.... The next day dragged by and still he did not appear. ... Ruth Frazer had been working nearly two months for Malcolm Lightener, and she liked the place. It had been a revelation to her following her experience with Bonbright Foote, Incorporated. It INTERESTED her, fascinated her.
There were even times when there was a worn, haggard look about his eyes when he came down in the morning. This was when he had allowed himself to think too much. "Just came from your father's office," said Lightener. "I offered him a chance to clean up half a million a year and he turned it down... because his great-grandfather might not like it." Bonbright understood perfectly.
But I don't believe it." He scowled at Bonbright. "No, by Jove! you don't LOOK it." "I don't think father and I are much alike," said Bonbright, slowly. Lightener switched the subject. "You ought to know considerable about this business. Been here six months. From what I hear you've picked up quite a lot outside of office hours." "I've been studying hard. It gave me something to do."
He studied the plan to better it, and did make minor improvements, but in its elements it was just, fair. Bonbright could not understand, but Malcolm Lightener understood and the professor of sociology understood. "I can't understand it," Bonbright said to them. "Huh!" grunted Lightener. "It's just this: You're capital, and they're labor. That's it in a nutshell." "But it's fair."
She could not prevent a feeling of exasperation, especially toward Mrs. Frazer, who had moved from chair to chair, uttering words of self-pity, and pronouncing a constant jeremiad.... Such preliminaries to a wedding she had never expected to witness, and she witnessed them with awakened foreboding. A dozen or so young folks and Malcolm Lightener and his wife witnessed the brief ceremony.
"Well, young fellow?" said Lightener. Then seeing the boy's hesitation: "Come in. Come in. What's happened NOW?" "Mr. Lightener," said Bonbright, "I want a job. I've got to have a job." "Um!... Job! What's the matter with the job you've got?" "I haven't any job.... I I'm through with Bonbright Foote, Incorporated forever." "That's a darn long time. Sit down.
So they scowled at him, and in their homes talked to their wives with apprehension of dark days ahead. He felt their attitude. It could not be helped yet. His work could not be started with the men, it must start elsewhere. He would come to the men later, in good time, in their proper order. His third morning in the office he had called Malcolm Lightener on the telephone.
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