"Boss," said Benny, "he's from nothing--all thumbs with an air wrench and he don't know alclad from stainless." "Be right out," Vogel said, hanging up. Before he had a chance to fire Amenth, the Fabrication Super came in with a production problem. Vogel solved it, but it was almost an hour before he returned to Benny's bench--and stared. Amenth was a blur of motion. His Keller chattered like a live thing. A furious sweating Benny snapped at Vogel, "You playing practical jokes? Look, this guy's gone crazy, he's fifty per cent under standard! Tell him to slow down before I file a grievance." Amenth beamed. "I am of the aptitude," he said. A queer deep tingle went through Vogel. The crystal delight of challenge he felt when confronted by an apparently impregnable fianchetto. That was the first day. * * * * * A week later, Vogel was compiling a progress report from completed shop travelers. Abruptly he scowled at one traveler, then said, "Charlie!" "Yes, sir," one of the planners said. "Why didn't these galley panels go out for drop hammer?" Charlie peered at the form and whistled. "Somebody must have changed the planning sheet." "Get me the story!" Charlie went hurriedly out into the shop. Some time later he returned with a pale dazed look. "It's this guy in assembly," he said. "Name is Amenth. He didn't even read the traveler. Just looked at the attached detail print and decided to miter the edges, then reverse the flange with a weld." He threw the completed part on Vogel's desk. "Go ahead, check those tolerances," he said whitely. "Right on the money." Vogel walked over to a calculator and figured. There was a dreamy expression in his eyes. He said softly, "All fabrication in our own shop. A net saving of 93 cents per unit, or eight hundred dollars total. I believe you planned this item, Charlie." Vogel fired him. That same afternoon Amenth came into the office on Vogel's order. "Sir?" "Don't you know how to read a traveler?" Vogel asked sternly. "It was a lucky accident." Amenth looked terrified. "I just read the print--" "And did what seemed logical." Statement, then a very quiet question. "What happened to your accent?" The little man looked blank. Vogel took a slow deep breath. "I've got a material planning job open," he said tightly. "Three-fifty to start. Interested?" For a moment he thought Amenth would lick his hand. The little man took to planning sheets like a duck to water. He pored feverishly over blueprints, turning out travelers in a steady flood. Vogel watched him. He went over to Personnel, requested Amenth's employment application, read it and scowled. It was a masterpiece of anonymity. Birthplace: New York. Former Occupation: Laborer. Hobbies: None. He memorized Amenth's address and returned the application. Vogel always ate lunch in the office with his expediters. That noon two of them got into an argument about the planets.