Mr.
Wickes laid a file before him.

It needed only a rapid survey of the sheets to give him the whole story.

Incompetence and worse, sheer carelessness looked up at him from every sheet.

The planing mill was in a state of chaotic disorganization.
"What does this mean, Mr.Wickes ?" he burst forth, putting his finger upon an item that cried out mismanagement and blundering.

"Here is an order that takes a month to clear which should be done within ten days at the longest." Wickes stood silent, overwhelmed in dismayed self-condemnation.
"It seems difficult somehow to get orders through, sir, these days," he said after a pause.
"Difficult?
What is the difficulty?
The men are there, the machines are there, the material is in the yard.