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Updated: May 31, 2025
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."
Kate Mershon was idly tossing a tennis-ball into the air, and making ineffectual strokes at it with a racquet, and at Mrs. Mershon's feet sat Amy, reading, the golden sunlight resting tenderly on her head, and bringing out the reddish tones of her hair.
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.
Bonbright's part in that was enough to keep one man occupied, for, however much he might leave to Mershon, there were countless details that he must decide; innumerable points to be referred to him and discussed.
He had bidden a cadaverous animal painter named Mershon and two equally hungry-eyed Michiganders yclept Albright to his room with the rakish back wall, where the feast had been a regal if somewhat subdued one. And now Trotter looked about the room, thoughtfully, and decided it was time to act. All record of this past orgy would have to be wiped out.
Mershon might return at any time. I stole downstairs, and into the room devoted to Hilyard's chemical experiments. Fool! I had forgotten to bring a cup or bottle with me. I looked hurriedly around the bare room, and discovering a broken bottle on a shelf, I took the key of the cabinet from its place and unlocked it. Yes, there in the corner stood the rough glass bottle, with the metal around it.
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?" Mershon nodded. "The next room is yours."
"Well, Mr. Mershon, if labor wants to cut its own throat by striking let it strike. I'm giving it work. I'm giving it wages that equal or are higher than union scale. They've no excuse for a strike. I'm willing to do anything within reason, but I'm going to run my own concern. Before I'll let this plant be unionized I'll shut it down.
They're going to get more out of him than organization could compel or even hope for. If they prod him too hard they may upset things. He's fine capacity for stubbornness." The labor representatives were on their way to the office. When they arrived they asked first for Mershon, who received them and notified Bonbright. "Show them in," he said. "We may as well have it over."
Look you, Mershon, at his eagerness to better the conditions of his men that's why I'm abandoning classes of boys who ought to be interested in what I teach them, but aren't and then place beside it his antagonism to unionism...." Mershon was interested at that instant more in the practical aspects of the situation. "The unions are snapping at our heels.
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