a crisp?" Kinnison demanded. "What in hell
have they got in their heads--sawdust? They think that because I'm fifty
one years old I've got one foot in the grave--I'll bet four dollars that
I'm in better shape than that cursed Major General and his whole damned
staff!"

"I don't doubt it, dear." Eunice's smile was, however, mostly of
relief. "But here's an ad--it's been running for a week."

"CHEMICAL ENGINEERS ... shell loading plant ... within seventy-five
miles of Townville ... over five years experience ... organic chemistry
... technology ... explosives...."

"They want _you_," Eunice declared, soberly.

"Well, I'm a Ph.D. in Organic. I've had more than five years experience
in both organic chemistry and technology. If I don't know something
about explosives I did a smart job of fooling Dean Montrose, back at
Gosh Whatta University. I'll write 'em a letter."

He wrote. He filled out a form. The telephone rang.

"Kinnison speaking ... yes ... Dr. Sumner? Oh, yes, Chief Chemist....
That's it--one year over age, so I thought.... Oh, that's a minor
matter. We won't starve. If you can't pay a hundred and fifty I'll come
for a hundred, or seventy five, or fifty.... That's all right, too. I'm
well enough known in my own field so that a title of Junior Chemical
Engineer wouldn't hurt me a bit ... O.K., I'll see you about one o'clock
... Stoner and Black, Inc., Operators, Entwhistle Ordnance Plant,
Entwhistle, Missikota.... What! Well, maybe I could, at that....
Goodbye."

He turned to his wife. "You know what? They want me to come down right
away and go to work. Hot Dog! _Am_ I glad that I told that louse
Hendricks exactly where he could stick that job of mine!"

"He must have known that you wouldn't sign a straight-salary contract
after getting a share of the profits so long. Maybe he believed what you
always say just before or just after kicking somebody's teeth down their
throats; that you're so meek and mild--a regular Milquetoast. Do you
really think that they'll want you back, after the war?" It was clear
that Eunice was somewhat concerned concerning Kinnison's joblessness;
but Kinnison was not.

"Probably. That's the gossip. And I'll come back--when hell freezes
over." His square jaw tightened. "I've heard of outfits stupid enough to
let their technical brains go because they could sell--for a
while--anything they produced, but I didn't know that I was working for
one. Maybe I'm not exactly a Timid Soul,