"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 his seat with a weary gesture. His face, so much like somebody's grandmother, looked tragic as he spoke his next words. "You don't need the Accountovac to tell you the significance of those figures, gentlemen." His voice was soft, with a slight quaver. "We are not making much p-r-o-f-i-t. We are losing m-o-n-e-y. And the point is--what's the reason? There must be _some_ reason." His eyes went over them again, and Colihan, feeling like the culprit, slumped in his chair. "I have a suggestion," said the President. "Just an idea. Maybe some of us just aren't showing enough p-e-p." There was a hushed silence. The boss pushed back his chair and walked over to a cork-lined wall. With a dramatic gesture, he lifted one arm and pointed to the white sign that covered a fourth of it. "See that?" he asked. "What does it say?" The department heads looked dubious. "_Well, what does it say?_" repeated Moss. "ACT!" The department heads cried in chorus. "Exactly!" said the little old man with a surprising bellow. "ACT! The word that made us a leader. The word that guides our business destiny. The word that _built_ General Products!" * * * * * He paced the floor. The chairs in the conference room creaked as the department heads stirred to follow him with their eyes.