His foreman was waiting beside the time clock. He was a big man, and what was left of his red hair matched in color the skin of his neck. And the color of his face, when he grew angry. His name was Rogers. He smiled now as Ernie nervously pushed his time card into the clock. His voice was warm and jovial as he spoke. "Well ... _good morning_, Mr. Stump. And did we have a nice, late, cozy little sleep-in this morning?" Ernie smiled uncertainly. "I'm sorry, Rogers. I know I'm late, but the time just sort of got away from me--" Rogers laughed lightly. "Think nothing _of_ it, Mr. Stump. These things happen, after all." "Uh, yeah. Well, like I said, I'm sorry and--" Rogers went on, unheeding. "Of course, complications can develop when your number three wrist-pin man decides that he just isn't feeling sharp this morning and he needs a little extra sleep to put him right. If you're the foreman for Sub-Assembly Line 3-A, for example, Mr. Stump, one wonders if the rush order that must be filled by this morning is going to be finished any time before next Christmas. One wonders where the wrist-pin man is, Mr. Stump. Does he intend to come in at all, or will he just snooze his little head off all day? One wonders what to say to the plant manager, Mr. Stump. How do you tell him that twenty men are standing idle on Sub-Assembly Line 3-A because, through a laughable oversight, there is no one to put in a wrist-pin? How do you explain it so he will _understand_, Mr. Stump?" Rogers stopped and caught his breath. His face began growing red. He said slowly, "You _don't_, Mr. Stump. You don't explain it so he will understand. I just tried!" Ernie swallowed. Hurriedly, he said, "Look I'm sorry. I'll get right in there--" Rogers smiled. "That would be nice, Mr. Stump. I imagine there are quite a few Sub-Assembly 3-A's stacked up in there by now. You just trot in there and get them cleaned up." Ernie nodded doubtfully. "You ain't mad?" Rogers' smile grew broader. "Mad, Mr. Stump? Why, being chewed out by the manager is a trifle. It's something a foreman must expect. It happens to some of them every day--for a while. And when it does, it doesn't matter because in just a little while they are no longer foremen. Sometimes, they aren't even workmen, any more. And then they have nothing at all to worry about, so don't let it concern you, Mr. Stump. Do you take the streetcar to work?" "Huh? Uh, yeah, I do." "I thought so." Rogers nodded his head benignly. "Well, just as a suggestion, the next time you see you're going to be late it might be better if you saved your car-fare and used it to buy a newspaper." Ernie smiled uncertainly. "O.K. Uh, why?" "Because," Rogers said slowly, no longer smiling, "the next time you leave me in a crack like that, you're going to be reading the 'Help Wanted' section! _Now get in there and get to work!_" Ernie did.