TOMMY did more hard thinking in the next few days than he had done in his four years at college. He blamed himself for his stupidity that prevented him from seeing the first step. He could not visualize his start. Notwithstanding Thompson's admonition, it was usually the preamble to the speech that was the stumbling-block, for Tommy did not know that there is work which not the head but the heart must do.

Since he could not formulate a plan of campaign in detail, he simply walked about the shop talking genial generalities to the men. He did not know that while he was trying to be a friend to these men they also were becoming friends to him, and he presently found himself telling them all he knew about the new plant, of which they had heard vague rumors, of the better times that were coming, and how one of the greatest problems of all time was settled here, since all jobs were going to be life jobs. And, of course, he could not help asking them one at a time what really was needed to make their life in the shop better, more comfortable, and more worth while working for.

They took him at his word, because though he was young and utterly inexperienced he was also wise enough to listen to wisdom. They answered his questions and freely gave of their own infallibility. He heard architects when he wanted sociologists and lawyers when he wanted brothers, and political economists when he wanted college boys; but he was wise enough to continue to listen attentively. He asked each man confidentially whether it would be possible for him to evolve a plan that would make them all one family. And each promised to think about it. In fact, many even promised to give Tommy the one plan that would do it.

Thompson had little to say to Tommy. He made no suggestions and asked for no reports. But one day, as Tommy was going into the laboratory to see Bill Byrnes, he met the president. He saw that Thompson had something important to say.

“Tommy, have the men given you a nickname yet?”

“They all call me Tommy.”

“But a nickname?”

“Well,”—and Tommy smiled forgivingly—“some of them call me D. O.”

“What does that mean?”

“Door Opener!”

Thompson's face lighted up. He held out his hand and he shook Tommy's so congratulatorily that Tommy realized in part what had happened. He felt that he was progressing.

“Keep on the job, D. O. Remember that miracles are worked with men by men, and not by machinery nor by wages alone.” And Thompson walked off, smiling.

Tommy walked into Bill's new quarters. Bill was happy beyond words, having no financial cares. His contract called for the sale of his patents to the Tecumseh at a price and on a basis to be determined by three men, one chosen by Byrnes, one by the company, and the third by both the others.

“How's Charlotte?” asked Tommy, for Bill's sister had not been well.

“Better. That specialist that Mr. Thompson got from Cleveland to see her has done her a lot of good.”

“You never told me about that, Bill,” said Tommy, reproachfully.

“Well, Thompson asked me about my family and I told him about her—or, rather, he guessed it. How he did it I don't know. And I kind of thought that you'd rub it in. But he won't lose anything, I can tell you.” Bill saw impending speech in Tommy's face, so he went on hastily in order to avert it: “I've got a cinch here, Tommy. We'll all be rich yet, you bet! And say, La Grange knows more than I thought. Now watch this.” And Bill began to put his new apparatus through its paces for Tommy's benefit.

It had worked successfully fifty times that day; but on this, the fifty-first, before a witness, it balked.

“Yes, that's fine!” said Tommy, with great enthusiasm, and waited for the profanity.

But Bill merely frowned and fumbled with the wires. Then he exclaimed, blithely: “Sure thing; the nut worked off! It never happened before, and you can bet it never will again. Now watch it!”

Tommy watched it. It worked smoothly. Then Bill took the apparatus to pieces and showed Tommy that the vaporization of the kerosene had been complete.

“I've made a lot of improvements. La Grange is working now on the generator. He is really a good electrician,” said Bill, with an air of doing justice to a friend who had his faults as all men, even the best, have. Tommy laughed outright. The change in Bill's nature, now that he had no worries, struck him as being quite funny.

“What's biting you?” asked Bill.

“Oh,” said Tommy, “I just thought of something. Keep on the job, Bill. Your friends and your country need you.”

Bill was again at work before Tommy walked out of the room. A great world this, thought Tommy, in which each man had his work, in which he could think of himself and gratify his personal desires, and withal one in which the work of each man would harmonize and merge with the work of the others. He felt a greater admiration for Thompson than ever, but he also began to feel that even without Thompson it was well to work for the Tecumseh Motor Company. If Thompson lived he certainly would make the Tecumseh greater than Thompson.

During the following fortnight Tommy was able to fill himself with joy by bringing some grievances to Thompson. They were minor affairs, but Thompson treated them as seriously as though they were disasters. They were adjusted to the satisfaction of all concerned.

Sometime afterward Thompson sent for Tommy. “Tommy,” said Thompson, his eyes on Tommy's, “I think you ought to go to New York.” Tommy's face showed consternation. “What's happened, Mr. Thompson? My father—”

“Oh no, I have remembered what you told me about getting 'ads' for your college paper. Well, we are going to double our capital stock. Our stockholders are perfectly able and anxious to subscribe to the new issue, but I want you to place some of it among your friends, since you cannot take any yourself. A little later I hope to perfect a plan whereby you and all the men who stay with us will be able to get some of the stock on terms that all of you can meet. I want you, Tommy, to feel a personal responsibility in the management of the company. You can do it by inducing personal friends to buy a couple of thousand shares of our stock. I have prepared a statement showing what we have done and what we are doing, and an estimate of what we expect to do. Our books and our plant are open for examination by any expert your friends may want to send here. We shall have a big surplus, and the book value of the shares will always be much more than par; but we are going to reduce the price of our car every chance we get, and we are going to provide for pensions and life insurance and bonuses for the men. We have no Utopian schemes, and no more elaborate theory than the desire to make this a permanent and continuously productive organization. I don't want any man for a stockholder who expects the company to run its business as he would not have the nerve or the conscience to run his own. I am going not only to give, but to take a chance in giving. The statement I have prepared for you here is for your guidance, that you may make my intentions clear to your friends. You don't have to call attention to the big fortunes that have been made in the automobile business, because I wish you to interest only people who already are interested in Tom Leigh.”

Tommy's feeling of relief had grown as Mr. Thompson spoke. He ceased to think of certain dark possibilities. But there still remained one.

“I don't know whether I can sell the stock or not, Mr. Thompson.”

“I don't expect you to succeed. I only expect you to try,” Thompson reminded him.

“Of course I'll try,” said Tommy, hastily.

“My reasons are good business reasons, Tommy, because I have your future in mind. Can you leave to-night?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well.”

Tommy hesitated; then he held out his hand and said, “Good-by, Mr. Thompson.”

“Wait a minute. Tell the cashier to let you have a hundred dollars expense account.” Then he shook hands. “Place that stock, Tommy!” he said.

A little later, when he said good-by to Bill Byrnes, Tommy realized for the first time how deeply rooted in Dayton his life was. He didn't feel that he was going home, but that he was leaving it!