I read it and reached for the pen to sign. He must have seen some doubt upon my face.
“Is it satisfactory,” he asked.
“No, but I’ll sign.”
“Why, I drew that contract myself! What’s the matter with it?”
“There is not enough time,” I replied.
His eyes narrowed.
“Mr. Simmons, you have lived a long time across the water? Yes? Let me tell you something about American business methods. Never complain over here that you haven’t enough time. If the job suits you, wade in and do it. If you can’t finish it yourself, put on more men and work nights!”
“But there are things that can’t be done that way,” I insisted.
“Sir, I’ve been a contractor for twenty years in New York City and if there is anything you cannot do that way, I should like to hear about it.”
“Well,” I said, “I admit your business position, but I still believe that if you wanted a son and heir you would have to respect the old rule to wait nine months, and not put on more men and work nights.”