ipped the card inside.

* * * * *

The meeting had already begun when Colihan took his appointed place.
Grimswitch, the Materielovac operator looked at him quizzically. _Damn
your eyes, Grimswitch_, he thought. _It's no crime to be three minutes
late. Nothing but a lot of pep talk first five minutes anyway._

"PEP!" said President Moss at the end of the room. He slammed his little
white fist into the palm of his other hand. "It's only a little word. It
only has three little letters. P-E-P. Pep!"

Moss, standing at the head of the impressive conference table, leaned
forward and eyed them fixedly. "But those three little letters, my
friends, spell out a much bigger word. A _much_ bigger word for General
Products, Incorporated. They spell PROFIT! And if you don't know how
_profit_ is spelled, it's M-O-N-N-E-Y!"

There was an appreciative laugh from the assembled department heads.
Colihan, however, was still brooding on the parade of pink cards which
had been emerging with frightening regularity from his think-machine,
and he failed to get the point.

"Naughty, naughty," Grimswitch whispered to him archly. "Boss made a
funny. Don't forget to laugh, old boy."

Colihan threw him a sub-zero look.

"Now let's be serious," said the boss. "Because things _are_ serious.
Mighty serious. Somewhere, somehow, _somebody's_ letting us down!"

The department heads looked uneasily at each other. Only Grimswitch
continued to smile vacantly at the little old man up front, drumming his
fingers on the glass table top. When the President's machine-gunning
glance caught his eyes, Colihan went white. _Does he know about it?_ he
thought.

"I'm not making accusations," said Moss. "But there is a let-down
someplace. Douglas!" he snapped.

Douglas, the Treasurer, did a jack-in-the-box.

"Read the statement," said the President.

"First quarter fiscal year," said Douglas dryly. "Investment capital,
$17,836,975,238.96. Assets, $84,967,442,279.55. Liabilities,
$83,964,283,774.60. Production costs are--"

Moss waved his hand impatiently. "The meat, the meat," he said.

Douglas adjusted his glasses. "Total net revenue, $26,876,924.99."

"COMPARISON!" The President screamed. "Let's have last first quarter,
you idiot!"

"_Ahem!_" Douglas rattled the paper in annoyance. "Last first quarter
fiscal year net revenue $34,955,376.81. Percent decrease--"

"Never mind." The little old man waved the Treasurer to