The Clock by James Lincoln Collier Read Free Book Online

been afraid would happen. “I just hope you’ll think about it, for Pa’s going to be mighty angry with me if my pay is short.”
    He nodded. “I expect he will be.” He took another drink of rum. “You know, if we were friendly I could do a lot for you. I could even make you lamp girl.”
    That was the easiest job in the mill. In wintertime it was pitch dark when we started work in the morning, and dark before we got finished at night too. The factory was lit by oil lamps, dozens of them on each floor. The lamp girl had to go around and see that the lamps had oil in them, and that the wicks were trimmed so they’d burn right. And then as it got dark she’d go through the mill lighting the lamps. It was easy work, and a whole lot more interesting than working a slubbing billy, for you got to go wherever you wanted, and could talk to people and see what was going on. They liked to have one of the girls for the job, because if you gave the job to one of the New York boys they’d use it as a chance to go into the kitchen and the storerooms and steal whatever they could find.
    But I didn’t want to be beholden to Mr. Hoggart for anything. “I don’t mind the slubbing billy,” I said. “Maybe you could make Hetty Brown the lamp girl.”
    â€œOh, you’d like being lamp girl. But I couldn’t make anybody lamp girl I wasn’t on good terms with.” He squinted at me, his head slanted over. “Come, Annie. Robert’s sweet on you, isn’t he?”
    I blushed again and looked down at the floor. I hated having him talk about Robert and me. I hated him being in it. “We’re just friends, sir.”
    â€œJust friends? I’ll wager it’s more than that.”
    I was still looking at the floor, and suddenly I realized that he had walked softly toward me, and was standing a couple of feet from me. I could smell the rum he’d been drinking. He reached out, clenched my chin, and raised my face up so I had to look at him. “It’d be worth your while to be friendly to me, Annie,” he said in a soft voice. “There’s a lot I could do for you.”
    I felt disgusted, and twisted my head to break loose from his grip. He let go. “That isn’t being very friendly, is it now?”
    â€œPlease, sir, can I go?” I started to step around him, but he grabbed my arm above the elbow.
    â€œYou ought to try to be a little friendly. You’d like being lamp girl.” He let go of my arm, and put his arm around my shoulders, and started to pull me toward him. My nose was filled with the smell of his sweat and rum, and I felt scared and disgusted. I pulled back and slipped out from under his arm. He reached out, and grabbed me by the shoulder; and just then I heard feet clumping up the stairs, and I knew from the clippety-clop way they went that it was Robert. The door slammed open. Mr. Hoggart let go of my arm and snapped around. “What the devil are you doing here?”
    Then he noticed that Robert wasn’t looking at him, or me, but at the two bags of wool next to the candle. “What are you staring at, Bronson?” he shouted.
    Robert jerked his eyes away from the wool. “Nothing, sir. I just came to walk Annie home.”
    Suddenly I saw it: We’d caught Mr. Hoggart stealing wool. Did he realize that we knew?
    Mr. Hoggart gave Robert a mean, hard look. Then he looked back at me. “You can go now, Annie.”

CHAPTER SIX
    W HEN I GOT HOME Pa was sitting by the fire reading a newspaper. When I came in he looked at me, and then at that blame clock. “You’re twenty minutes late,” he said.
    I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to talk about what Mr. Hoggart had tried to do, but I realized I’d better. He was bound to do it again, and some day it’d come out. “Mr. Hoggart kept me late.”
    â€œWhat was that for?” Pa