imeter. I'll stay in tomorrow night and I'll put a little
chalk-mark on the barrel I'm in--right near the top rim. First thing you
do when you come to work the next morning is seal it and line it up with
the filled ones."

"Okay, but I gotta go home now. I got a head. I gotta get some sleep."

* * * * *

"What's in the duffel bag?"

"Clean overalls--towel." Joe pulled the zipper down halfway. The guard
fingered the blue denim but didn't dig deeper to find the towel. He
checked Joe's badge number, made a note on his pad, and motioned to the
next worker. Joe let tight breath slowly out of his lungs as he walked
toward Building B. Getting past the guard was a load off his mind. He'd
expected to get by, but it was one of the calculated risks that could
have stopped him cold.

Once inside the building, he put the bag into his locker and went to
work. He labored briskly and carried more than his share of the load.
But now and again he stopped to look over at the outline of Building A,
limned hard against hot blazing sky. And each time it was with a sense
of heady exhilaration that he thought of his destiny--his hard-earned,
dearly bought destiny. To be among that select group who would first set
foot upon the surface of the Moon!

He had no worries about not being allowed to do so. Once he showed
himself--with the ship far out in space--they'd have to accept him. Not
graciously of course, but they'd have to admire his courage and
tenacity. They could not, in all humanity, deny him a share of the
victory.

The day wore on and as quitting time approached, he became more
tense--more alert. Five minutes before the whistle, he faded back into
the building and hurried to the lavatory. He went into the booth
furthest from the entrance and locked the door. Now there was nothing to
do but wait. Another of the calculated risks.

The whistle blew. Almost immediately, the sound of footsteps broke the
silence and the lavatory was filled with hurrying men. Their stay in the
room was short, however, as Joe had known it would be. Men leaving for
home do not dawdle on the premises.

The lavatory was empty again. A period of silence while Joe raised his
feet from the floor and braced them on the toilet seat. The entrance
door opened. A guard making the departure checkup.

Joe held his breath. If the guard came down the line and tried the door,
he was finished. But Joe had banked upon human nature. The