"You ought to," Paul agreed. "You ain't got no competitors, so far as I could see."
"That's what we all think!" Elkan broke in—"that is to say, all of us except Mr. Sammet; and he ain't willing to wait for his money."
Leon Sammet moved uneasily in his chair as Jacob Paul faced about in his direction.
"Why ain't you willing to wait, Sammet?" he asked; and Leon mopped his face with his handkerchief.
"Well, it's like this, Mr. Paul——" he began, but the connoisseur of antiques raised his hand.
"One moment, Sammet," he said. "You know as well as anybody else, and better even, that a millionaire concern like the Hamsuckett Mills must got to wait once in a while." He paused significantly. "If we didn't," he continued, "there's plenty of solvent concerns would be forced to the wall—ain't it? Furthermore, if the Hamsuckett Mills did business the way you want to, Sammet, I wouldn't keep my job as credit man and treasurer very long."
Sammet nodded weakly and plied his handkerchief with more vigour, while Elkan sat and stared at his acquaintance of Sunday night in unfeigned astonishment.
"Then what is the use of talking, Sammet?" Paul said. "So long as you are the only one standing out, why don't you make an end of it? How long an extension does Dishkes want?"
"Two months," Finkman answered.
"And where is the agreement you fellows all signed?" Paul continued.