Explore "The Rapids" by Alan Sullivan on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The paralyzing news had lain in the faithful keeping of a confidential operator and the white faced secretary who had guarded it jealously. The latter followed to the private office. When the door was closed in his face, he went to his own desk and sat blindly at his letters. Clark stood at a big window that commanded the rapids. Deep lines were furrowed suddenly on his face, and his eyes were like sunken bits of cold, gray steel. He felt the gentle vibration of the mills, and through it pierced the words of the telegram like a thin sharp voice that would not be denied. It was fully an hour later that his call sounded for the secretary.
"The rail mill will be closed shortly for temporary alteration. If you are asked anything about it -- and you will be -- that is all you know. This means that the furnaces must be blown down. I don't anticipate any serious delay. You will repeat this telegram to Philadelphia, and add that I will report more fully in the next twenty-four hours. There's just one thing more. A good deal of importance will attach to your manner and attitude for the next few days. That's all."