"'We don't keep run of the hands after they 've left unless they go ter another mill, an' she ain't,' says he, clappin' to the ledger with a bang thet said plain as could be, 'Time 's up.' "'I guess you 'll have ter let me see the women, fer it's a life an' death matter ter me', says I, fer his drivin' ways madded me, an' I was pretty green an' did n't know as much as I might have. "The strength seemed ter come floodin' right in ter me when I 'd said thet, and I guess there must have been a kinder 'knock-yer-down' look in my eyes, fer the feller sort o' winced--there war n't but us two in the office--an' said: "'It's against the rules an' 't won't do no good, but if you 'll feel any better you can this time.' "You see I thought if I could see the women, I 'd ask 'em, an' p'raps they 'd know 'bout her. But, Lord! when I see thet great room stretchin' away ter nothin', an' them hundreds of girls and women a-workin', tendin' them looms as if their life depended on them wooden bolts shovin' back'ards an' for'ards like lightnin', I jest set down on the first bench I come ter sicker 'n death. "A great wave of black an' a wave of green went through the room. My pulses kept time to the _rick-rack_ of the flyin' shuttles, an' my head swum with the dizzyin' of the wheels an' the pumpin' of the shafts. "'Good God,' I thought, 'is this the place she 's been breathin' out her sweet life in!' "I tried ter think, but could n't, the floor jarred so with the rumble of the great machines; an' the air grew as thick with dust as a barn floor in threshin' time; an' right through it all, a scorchin' August sun burned in great quiverin' furrers; an' from outside where it slanted on the river rushin' through the mill-sluices, it sent a blindin' reflection whirlin' an' eddyin' along the glarin' white ceilin's till I felt like a drownin' man bein' sucked under... "I got out somehow, fer I found myself on the street. I went ter every mill in the place--an' might have spared myself the trouble. "Then I took the houses by rote, askin' at each one for Jemimy Morey. Up one street, down another, I went, the little red brick boxes lookin' as like as one honeycomb ter another; most of 'em was empty--all at the mills except the old women and babies; the fust could n't give me no kind of an answer, an' the second I stumbled over. "It was gettin' towards six, an' I war n't no nearer findin' what I 'd come fer than when I started, when I heard a factory bell ringin' an' asked what it meant. They told me a quarter ter six an' shuttin' off steam. I started on a dead run fer the little footbridge thet led from the canal alongside, to the mill gates. There I took my stand jest as the six o'clock whistle blew and the great mill gates was hoisted, an' the women an' children come flockin' out an' over the bridge. "I asked every squad of 'em--they could n't get by me without answerin' me fer 't was only a foot-bridge--if they knew a mill hand by name Jemimy Morey?