"Funny thing about apples. My father used to keep 'em in barrels down in the basement. He used to say to me, 'Andrew,' he'd say, 'don't never put a sour apple in one of these barrels. 'Cause just one sour apple can spoil the whole derned lot.'" The boss looked at Colihan and took a big noisy bite. Colihan smiled inanely. Was Moss making some kind of point? "Well, we can't sit around all day and reminisce, eh, Ralph? Much as I enjoy it. But we got a business to run, don't we?" "Yes, sir," said the Personnel Manager. "Mighty big business, too. How's your side of it, Ralph? Old Personnelovac hummin' along nicely?" "Yes, sir," said Colihan, wondering if he should voice his fears about the Brain. "Marvelous machine, that. Most marvelous of 'em all, if you ask me. Sizes up a man beautifully. And best of all, it's one hundred percent _honest_. That's a mighty important quality, Ralph." * * * * * Colihan was getting worried. The boss's conversation was just a little too folksy for his liking. "Yes, sir, a mighty fine quality. My father used to say: 'Andrew, an honest man can always look you in the eyes.'" Colihan stared uncomprehendingly. He realized that Moss had stopped talking, so he looked him squarely in the eyes and said: "He must have been a fine man, your father." "He was honest," said Moss. "I'll say that for him. He was honest as they come. Did you ever hear of Dimaggio?" "It sounds familiar--" "It should. Dimaggio was a legendary figure. He took a lantern and went out into the world looking for an honest man. And do you know something? He couldn't find one. You know, Ralph, sometimes _I_ feel like Dimaggio." Colihan gulped. "And do you know why? Because sometimes I see a thing like _this_--" the boss's hand reached into the desk and came out with a thick bundle of pink cards--"and I wonder if there's an honest man left in the world." * * * * * He put the cards in front of Colihan. "Now, sir," said Moss. "Let's talk a little business. These cards are all pink. That means dismissal, right? That's twenty-four people fired in the last month, is that correct?" "Yes, sir," said Colihan unhappily. "And how many cards went through the Personnelovac this month?" "Forty." "So that's twenty-four out of forty. A batting average of--" The boss's brow puckered. "Well. Never mind. But that's quite an unusual record, wouldn't you say so?" "Yes, sir, but--" "_So_ unusual that it would call for immediate ACTION, wouldn't it?" The President's face was now stormy. "Yes, sir. But I checked the Brain--" "Did you, Ralph?" "Yes, sir. And the Maintainovac said it was perfect. There's nothing wrong with it." "_Nothing_ wrong? You call twenty-four firings out of forty _nothing_?" The old man stood up, still holding the core of his apple.