"They won't be," said Bonbright, with a tightening of his jaw. "Can you lend me Mershon for a while?" Mershon was Lightener's engineer, the man who had designed and built his great plant.
"I can't, but I will."
"As soon as he can arrange it, please. I want to get started."
"He'll be there in half an hour."
Mershon came, a gray, beefy, heavy-faced man—with clear, keen, seeing eyes.
"Mr. Lightener has loaned you to me, Mr. Mershon. It was a tremendous favor, for I know what you can do."
Mershon nodded. He was a man who treasured up words. He must have had a great store of them laid by, for in his fifty years he had used up surprisingly few.
"This is what I want," Bonbright said. "First, I want a plant designed with a capacity of twenty thousand Lightener engines. You designed Lightener's engine plant—so you're about the one man to give me one that will turn out more engines with less labor and at lower cost than his. That's what I want."
Mershon's eyes lighted. "It will cost money," he said.
"I'll find the money; you give me the plant," Bonbright said. "And second, I want a survey made of this present plant. I know a lot of it is junk, but I'm not competent to say how much. You will know what to do. If I have to junk the whole outfit I'll do it. I don't want to waste money, but I want these mills to be the equal of any mills in the country…. Not only in efficiency, but as a place to work. I want them safe. You will understand. I want the men considered. Give them light and air. Wait till you see our wash rooms!" He shrugged his shoulders. "It isn't enough to have the best machines," he said. "I want the men to be able to do the best that's in them…. You understand?"