l.

At this stage in the journey Tom could not have accounted for himself in
the ethical field. Something, a thing intangible, had gone out of him.
He could not tell what it was; but he missed it. The kindly Gordon
nature was intact, or he hoped it was, but the neighbor-love, which was
his father's rule of life, seemed not to have come down to him in its
largeness. Ruth for the Farleys was not to be expected of him, he
argued; but behind this was a vaster ruthlessness, arming him to win the
industrial battle, making him a hard man as he had suddenly become a
strong one.

And the experiences of the summer were all hardening. He plunged
headlong into the world of business, into a panic-time competition which
was in grim reality a fight for life, and there seemed to be little to
choose between trampling or being trampled. By early autumn the iron
industries of the country were gasping, and the stacks of pig in the
Chiawassee yards, kept down a little during the summer by a few meager
orders, grew and spread until they covered acres. As long as money could
be had, the iron was bonded as fast as it was made, and the proceeds
were turned into wages to make more. But when money was no longer
obtainable from this source, the pipe venture was the only hope.

With the entire foundry force at the Chiawassee making pipe, Tom had
gone early into the market with his low-priced product. But the
commercial side of the struggle was fire-new to him, and he found
himself matched against men who knew buying and selling as he knew
smelting and casting. They routed him, easily at first, with increasing
difficulty as he learned the new trade, but always with certainty. It
was Norman, the correspondence man, transformed now into a sales agent,
who gave him his first hint of the inwardnesses.

"We're too straight, Mr. Gordon; that's at the bottom of it," he said to
Tom, over a grill-room luncheon at the Marlboro one day. "It takes money
to make money."

Tom's eyebrows went up and his ears were open. The battle had grown
desperate.

"Our prices are right," he said. "Isn't that enough?"

"No," said Norman, looking down. Like all the others, he stood a little
in awe of the young boss.

"Why?"

"Four times out of five we have to sell to a municipal committee, and
the other time we have to monkey with the purchasing agent of a
corporation. In either case it takes money--other money besides the
difference in price."

Tom wagged his head