Free Shrouded In Thought (Gilded Age Mysteries Book 2) by N. S. Wikarski Page A

men whom I represent. I must set an example.”
    “Engie, you shouldn’t tempt Mr. Bracecote to forget his duty.” Jane’s eyes twinkled.
    “Of course not. Let us be guided by the voice of reason.” Evangeline nudged Jane. “That’s you, in case there was any doubt.”
    “If you would be so kind?” Jane hinted for their guide to resume the tour.
    Bracecote shook himself out of a dejected contemplation of the factory and started forward. “Yes, quite so. To your right you will see the Arcade Building . It houses our post office, a theater, the library, and the bank.”
    “Is that the bank where your rents are paid?” Jane asked.
    “Yes,” Bracecote replied quietly, “or where we are driven into debt because we cannot pay.”
    “But surely the bank that doles out your wages knows you haven’t any money left for rent,” Evangeline protested.
    Bracecote shrugged. “They tell us we must pay what we can each month.   When we cannot, we are treated with scorn. Rude comments are made that we are cheating the company.”
    “A sad choice,” Jane observed. “To keep a roof over your heads, you must deny your children bread.”
    “This past winter was the worst. The depression that swept the nation finally came to Chicago . Our wages were cut almost in half but our rents remained the same. Some of the children didn’t have shoes or warm clothes and couldn’t leave their homes to attend school. But they were luckier than the ones whose parents couldn’t afford the heating bill. The little ones had to stay in bed, huddled in blankets all day just to keep warm.”
    “This is an outrage!” Evangeline exclaimed, but a warning frown from Jane silenced further comment.
    The trio continued to stroll down One Hundred Eleventh Street . To their left, the factory loomed. To their right stood several ornate houses. From the perspective of a common laborer, they might have appeared as mansions.
    “I take it the workers don’t live in these?” Evangeline asked dryly.
    “No, these are reserved for the company managers. The front windows face toward the factory.”
    “To what purpose?”
    “To watch.” Bracecote replied simply.
    “To watch what?” Evangeline persisted.
    “To watch everything.” Bracecote sighed. “To watch everything and everybody. Everything that goes on in the factory and everything that goes on in the town. Mr. Pullman has spies everywhere.”
    “Spies!” Both women cried at the same time.
    “The company wishes to know at all times whether its employees are loyal. It is said there are spies in every parlor. A man who says something unfavorable about the company at Sunday dinner may find himself dismissed from work on Monday morning.”
    “My word, this is too much!” Evangeline was incensed. “Who could live under conditions like these? Why not move to the city where you wouldn’t be watched day and night?”
    Bracecote appeared crestfallen. “It wouldn’t help. The common belief is that preference is given to those who live at Pullman . When jobs are available, they are given first to residents.”
    “Is that actually the case?” Jane sounded doubtful.
    “Perhaps not, but it is the perception and so we remain. Last winter when work was scarce everywhere, the men chose to remain here in case something opened up. Even if it meant going into debt to pay the rent.”
    The little group paused again before an ornately landscaped park to their right. Just ahead of them was a building of some four stories. Its size and elaborate Queen Anne architecture suggested it was something other than a residence.
    “This must be the Hotel Florence,” Jane said.
    “How odd that it shouldn’t be named after Mr. Pullman. Everything else is,” Evangeline added.
    Bracecote cleared his throat uncomfortably. “In a way it is. It is named for Mr. Pullman’s favorite daughter.”
    “Of course. Why not.” Evangeline rolled her eyes.
    Their attention was caught by a group of well-dressed men lounging