, that. Most marvelous of 'em all, if you ask me.
Sizes up a man beautifully. And best of all, it's one hundred percent
_honest_. That's a mighty important quality, Ralph."

* * * * *

Colihan was getting worried. The boss's conversation was just a little
too folksy for his liking.

"Yes, sir, a mighty fine quality. My father used to say: 'Andrew, an
honest man can always look you in the eyes.'"

Colihan stared uncomprehendingly. He realized that Moss had stopped
talking, so he looked him squarely in the eyes and said: "He must have
been a fine man, your father."

"He was honest," said Moss. "I'll say that for him. He was honest as
they come. Did you ever hear of Dimaggio?"

"It sounds familiar--"

"It should. Dimaggio was a legendary figure. He took a lantern and went
out into the world looking for an honest man. And do you know
something? He couldn't find one. You know, Ralph, sometimes _I_ feel
like Dimaggio."

Colihan gulped.

"And do you know why? Because sometimes I see a thing like _this_--" the
boss's hand reached into the desk and came out with a thick bundle of
pink cards--"and I wonder if there's an honest man left in the world."

* * * * *

He put the cards in front of Colihan.

"Now, sir," said Moss. "Let's talk a little business. These cards are
all pink. That means dismissal, right? That's twenty-four people fired
in the last month, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir," said Colihan unhappily.

"And how many cards went through the Personnelovac this month?"

"Forty."

"So that's twenty-four out of forty. A batting average of--" The boss's
brow puckered. "Well. Never mind. But that's quite an unusual record,
wouldn't you say so?"

"Yes, sir, but--"

"_So_ unusual that it would call for immediate ACTION, wouldn't it?" The
President's face was now stormy.

"Yes, sir. But I checked the Brain--"

"Did you, Ralph?"

"Yes, sir. And the Maintainovac said it was perfect. There's nothing
wrong with it."

"_Nothing_ wrong? You call twenty-four firings out of forty _nothing_?"
The old man stood up, still holding the core of his apple.

"Well, I don't understand it either, Mr. Moss." Colihan felt dew on his
forehead. "Nothing seems to satisfy the Brain anymore. It seems to
develop higher and higher standards, or something. Why, I'm not sure it
wouldn't even fire--"

"WHO?" said Moss thunderously. "WHO wouldn't it even fire?"

The