There was, he soon learned, a Henry Waterman, Jr., a young man of twenty-five, and a George Waterman, a brother, aged fifty, who was the confidential inside man.
Henry Waterman, Sr., a man of fifty-five years of age, was the general head of the organization, inside and out--traveling about the nearby territory to see customers when that was necessary, coming into final counsel in cases where his brother could not adjust matters, suggesting and advising new ventures which his associates and hirelings carried out.

He was, to look at, a phlegmatic type of man--short, stout, wrinkled about the eyes, rather protuberant as to stomach, red-necked, red-faced, the least bit popeyed, but shrewd, kindly, good-natured, and witty.

He had, because of his naturally common-sense ideas and rather pleasing disposition built up a sound and successful business here.

He was getting strong in years and would gladly have welcomed the hearty cooperation of his son, if the latter had been entirely suited to the business.
He was not, however.

Not as democratic, as quick-witted, or as pleased with the work in hand as was his father, the business actually offended him.