"And you make cartridges, too, don't you?" Hamilton asked.
"That's one of the largest branches of our business," his guide replied, "but there's not very much in that to show you, except of course the making of the metal caps, and this is simply the punching of circular pieces of copper or brass, turning up the edges, or 'cupping' them, as it is called, drawing them to length, inserting the primer pocket and heading--the filling is done in a building perpetually closed to visitors. We think too much of our visitors," he added with a smile, "to risk blowing them up. I don't suppose really, that there would be any danger,--we have not had an accident for years,--but it's a business in which accident is only prevented by extreme care, and we believe in being thorough."
Chatting pleasantly, Mr. Nebett showed Hamilton through the various general offices, the payroll department, and the draughting and designing room, and finally returned to the business manager's office, where they found the schedule awaiting him, filled out in almost every detail. A few spaces had been left blank until the boy's return, some trifling explanation being readily answered by him.
[Illustration: "A BULL'S-EYE EVERY TIME!" The expert looking through telescope at target which he has fired at with new guns to test their accuracy. (_Courtesy of Winchester Repeating Arms Co._)]
"I must thank you ever so much," said the boy, turning to the director of the company who had taken so much trouble in showing him around, "it has been one of the most interesting afternoons I have had in all my life. I feel quite as though I had been witnessing the equipping of the world's armies on the eve of a great war."
"That would be all right," said the business manager, "if we were making military rifles, but ninety-five per cent of our work is for sporting purposes."
"There, perhaps," Mr. Nebett said, "The Hague tribunal would look askance at us."
Hamilton had his portfolio under his arm, but at the door he turned.
"How many cartridges do you put out?" he asked.
So long as Hamilton's work dealt with the larger manufactories of the district he encountered comparatively little trouble, as he knew enough of the desires of the Census Bureau to be able to help those business men whose books did not specifically divide receipts, expenses, and so forth in the same order as the government required. Indeed, he made several very pleasant acquaintanceships during the weeks in New Haven, and it was not until he was "checking up," going to all the small places that had not been listed, that he really found himself in difficulties. He anticipated trouble with the dressmakers, and consequently his delight was great when he learned that this had been omitted from the census since 1904 because it is a "neighborhood industry." But the milliners proved just as bad.