A few weeks later a new system of payment forced each worker to sacrifice from half an hour to an hour of precious time, her only capital. Hitherto payments had been made at the desk when work was brought in, but now checks were given on a Bowery bank, and the women must walk over in heat and storm alike, and wait their turn in the long line on the benches. If paid by the week this would make little difference, as any loss of time would be the employers', but this form of payment is practically abolished, piece-work done at home meaning the utmost amount of profit to the employer, every loss in time being paid by the workers themselves. When questioned as to why the check system of payment had been adopted by this and various other firms, the reply was simply:-- "It saves trouble. The bank has more time to count out money than we have." "But the women? Does it seem quite fair that they should be the losers?" "Fair? Anything's fair in business. You'd find that out if you undertook to do it." As the case then at present stands, for this firm, and for many which have adopted the same methods, the working-woman not only pays the rent that would be required for a factory, but gives them a profit on expressage, thread, time lost in going to bank, and often the price on a dozen of garments, payment for the dozen being deducted by many foremen if there is a flaw in one. This foreman becomes the scapegoat if unpleasant questions are asked by any whose investigation might bring discredit on the firm. In some cases they refuse positively to give any information, but in most, questions are answered with suspicious glibness, and if reference is made to any difficulties encountered by the women in their employ, they take instant refuge in the statement:-- "Oh, that was before the last foreman left. We discharged him as soon as we found out how he had served the women." "Do you see those goods?" another asked, pointing to a counter filled with piles of chemises. "How do you suppose we make a cent when you can buy a chemise like that for fifty cents? We don't. The competition is ruining us, and we're talking of giving up the business." "That's so. It's really more in charity to the women than anything else that we go on," his partner remarked, with a look toward him which seemed to hold a million condensed winks. "That price is just ruin; that's what it is."