Feetch felt himself sag inwardly. "Mr. Piltdon," he said. "I'm asking only one favor. Let me work full time on research and development, especially on the Piltdon effect. Hire a couple of extra men to help with production. I assure you the company will benefit in the end." "Damn it, no!" roared Piltdon. "How many times must I tell you? You got your job back, didn't you?" The prospect of long years of heavy production schedules, restricted engineering and tight supervision suddenly made Kalvin Feetch feel very tired. Research, he thought. Development. What he had always wanted. Over the years he had waited, thinking that there would be opportunities later. But now he was growing older, and he felt that there might not be a later. Somehow he would manage to get along. Perhaps someone would give him a job working in the new field he had pioneered. With a sense of relief he realized that he had made his decision. "Mr. Piltdon," Feetch said. "I--" klunk!--"resign." Piltdon started, extreme astonishment crossing his face. "No use," said Feetch. "Nothing you can say--" klunk! klunk! klunk!--"will make any difference now." "But see here, the New Type Super-Opener...!" "Will remain my secret. Good day." "Feetch!" howled Piltdon. "I order you to remain!" Feetch almost submitted from force of habit. He hesitated for a moment, then turned abruptly. "Good-day," said Feetch firmly, sprinting through the falling cans to the door. * * * * * Money, Feetch decided after a while, was a good thing to have. His supply was running pretty low. He was not having any luck finding another job. Although the cans had stopped falling on the fifteenth day, as predicted by the statisticians, industry would not soon forget the inconvenience and losses caused by the deluge. It was not anxious to hire the man it regarded as responsible for the whole thing. "Feetch," the personnel man would read. "Kalvin Feetch." Then, looking up, "Not the Kalvin Feetch who--" "Yes," Feetch would admit miserably. "I am sorry, but--" He did no better with research organizations. Typical was a letter from the Van Terrel Foundation: "--cannot accept your application inasmuch as we feel your premature application of your discovery to profit-making denotes a lack of scientific responsibility and ethics not desirable in a member of our organization--former employer states the decision was yours entirely. Unfavorable reference--" Piltdon, Feetch thought, feeling a strange sensation deep within his chest that he had not the experience to recognize as the beginning of a slow anger, Piltdon was hitting low and getting away with it.