It was a busy place, perhaps the busiest in the whole of the Eighth District, and in it were employed a large number of men.

The office was a small brick edifice, separated from the main buildings, in which the noise of machinery was so great that one speaking could scarcely be heard.

The manager was in, Kenneth and Beth learned, but could not see them until he had signed the letters he had dictated for the noon mail.
So they sat on a bench until a summons came to admit them to Mr.
Marshall's private office.
He looked up rather ungraciously, but motioned them to be seated.
"Mr.Forbes, of Elmhurst ?" he asked, glancing at the card Kenneth had sent in.
"Yes, sir." "I've been bothered already over your election campaign," resumed the manager, arranging his papers in a bored manner.

"Some girl has been here twice to interview my men and I have refused to admit her.

You may as well understand, sir, that I stand for the Democratic candidate, and have no sympathy with your side." "That doesn't interest me, especially, sir," answered Kenneth, smiling.
"I'm not electioneering just now.