Business activities of Teletype Corporation were now growing rapidly and with good profit. The capital structure of 10,000 shares was wholly inadequate, so by a 15-to-1 stock dividend the capital structure was raised to 150,000 shares, and dividends on an annual basis of $12.00 were paid. The successful development of apparatus for different applications useful in the telegraph field was largely due to the close cooperation between the research-development and the manufacturing departments of the organization. Howard Krum had expert engineers and designers in his department, Kleinschmidt brought his leading engineers and designers from the Long Island City plant, and there was a definite spirit of cooperation all around. To quote again from the _Fortune_ magazine story:[10] As the years up to 1925, when the Kleinschmidt-Morkrum merger took place, were wanderings in a profitless desert, so the years from 1925 to 1930 found the teletype in a land of milk and honey. Mr. Morton, however, was inclined to think that a company which had only two or three major customers is not strongly placed. Furthermore (and by the spring of 1930), at least one of those customers was actively in the market as a Teletype purchaser. This buyer was Colonel Sosthenes Behn, whose International Telephone & Telegraph Co. includes Postal Telegraph at home in addition to many communication and manufacturing companies abroad. With Colonel Behn wanting to buy and Mr. Morton wanting to sell, negotiations rapidly proceeded to a point at which Mr. Morton, at least, thought the deal was almost concluded. But while Mr. Morton and the Colonel were discussing the prospective acquisition, into the Colonel’s office walked a man who has no other place in this story except that he happened to interrupt at this moment. As this gentleman was introduced, he asked whether Mr. Morton were related to Joy or Paul Morton. When Mr. Morton admitted that they were his father and uncle, the man turned to Colonel Behn and said in jest: “Better watch your step. That’s a smart family.” Only Colonel Behn knows whether he gave that remark any weight, but the point is that the negotiations suddenly collapsed, and that the visitor’s remark about the smart family still lives vividly in Mr. Morton’s memory. This setback was not a setback at all to such a negotiator as Mr. Morton. Two months later, in May, 1930, you find him walking into the office of Clarence G. Stoll, vice president of Western Electric, A. T. & T.’s manufacturing subsidiary. This time there had been no preliminaries. Mr. Stoll rose from his desk and said: “Good morning. What can I do for you?” “Do you want to buy Teletype?” “Is it for sale?” “Yes, at a price.” “All right. Let’s get down to business.”