I sent in? You won the contest or sumpin'! Hey, that's
great!"

* * * * *

Jones and Dwindle watched the draftees file into the examination room.

"I still don't see how this is going to solve the problem," Jones
frowned.

"I believe it will," Dwindle contradicted him. "Specialists in each of
the major fields have been consulted, and each provided fifty
questions."

"The hardest questions they could think up, I imagine."

"No, not at all. The purpose is to provide comprehensive coverage of
each field. And each question is of the type that, if the examinee knows
the answer, it can be reasonably assumed that he knows quite a bit in
that particular phase of the field. For instance, if he knows what
enzyme is associated with the stomach, he probably knows what enzyme is
associated with the liver."

"I know one big problem you're going to run into," Jones sulked. "Just
like the IBM cards. You're going to find one guy who clobbers the
Electronics part of the test but completely busts out in History and
everything else."

"I don't think so," Dwindle said. "The preliminary test will have taken
care of that. It was designed so that, in order to answer every question
right, a person would have to have at least a rudimentary knowledge of
all twenty-four major fields."

As Jones was considering whether it would be better to slit his own
throat or Dwindle's, General Marcher entered the room and approached.

"Excellent. Excellent," the general declared. "A very
distinguished-looking group you've assembled here, Dwindle. Hello,
Jones."

"Yes, sir," Dwindle said, "with the possible exception of the seedy chap
in the rear."

Jones looked to the rear of the room, and his eyes bugged.

Freddy the Fish, clean-shaven but tattered, was alternately wetting the
pencil lead in his mouth and eating peanuts.

"That's the bum who feeds sparrows in the park!" Jones gasped. "How did
he get out of jail so quick? I saw a couple of policemen haul him off
just a day or so ago."

"This is where they hauled him to," General Marcher said. "It just so
happens that he answered every question right on the preliminary
examination. He says his name's Freddy Smith, although I doubt that he
could prove it."

"He says he never had a father," Dwindle added. "Says his family was too
poor."

Jones stared at General Marcher, then stared at Dwindle, then turned and
stared at Freddy the Fish, who had just left his