Mr. Foote shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't attract me."
"Huh!… You can have that plant up in six months. I'll give you a contract for five years. Two years' profits will pay for the plant. Don't know what your profits are now, but this ought to double them. … Doesn't half a million a year extra profit make you think of anything?"
"Mr. Lightener, this business was originally a machine shop. It has grown and developed since the first Bonbright Foote founded it. I am the first to deviate in any measure from the original plan, and I have done so with doubt and reluctancy. I have seen with some regret the manufacturing of axles overshadow the original business—though it has been profitable, I admit. But I shall go no farther. I am not sure my father and my grandfather would approve of what I have done. I know they would not approve of other changes…. More money does not attract me. This plant is making enough for me. What I want is more leisure. I wish more time to devote to a certain literary labor upon which I have been engaged…"
"Literary flub-dub," said Lightener. "I'm offering you half a million a year on a silver platter."
"I don't want it, sir…. I am not a young man. I have not been in the best of health—owing, perhaps, to worries which I should not have been compelled to bear…. I am childless. With me Bonbright Foote, Incorporated, comes to an end. Upon my death these mills close, the business is to be liquidated and discontinued. Do I make myself clear?… I am not interested in your engines."
"What's that you said?" Lightener asked. "Childless? Wind up this business? You're crazy, man."
"I had a son, but I have one no longer…. In some measure I hold you responsible for that. You have taken sides with a disobedient son against his father…"
"And you've treated a mighty fine son like a dog," said Lightener, harshly.
"I have done my duty…. I do not care to discuss it with you. The fact I want to impress is that my family becomes extinct upon my death. My wife will be more than amply provided for. I may live ten years or twenty years—but I shall live them in such comfort as I can obtain…. Is there anything else you wish to talk to me about?"
It was a dismissal, and Malcolm Lightener was not used to being dismissed like a troublesome book agent.