"Look there," said the bookkeeper, pointing a long and nervous finger at
three of the tags he held in his hand.

"There's three errors." He held out for inspection the original
sealers' report which he had dug out of the files.

Bob looked at the discrepant figures with amazement. He had checked the
tags over twice, and both times the error had escaped his notice. His
mind, self-hypnotized, had passed them over in the same old fashion. Yet
he had taken especial pains with that list.

"I happened, just happened, to check these back myself," Collins was
saying rapidly. "If I hadn't, we'd have made that contract with Robinson
on the basis of what these tags show. We haven't got that much seasoned
uppers, nor anything like it. If you've made many more breaks like this,
if we'd contracted with Robinson for what we haven't got or couldn't
get, we'd be in a nice mess--and so would Robinson!"

"I'm sorry," murmured Bob. "I'll try to do better."

"Won't do," said Collins briefly. "You aren't big enough for the job. I
can't get behind, checking over your work. This office is too rushed as
it is. Can't fool with blundering stupidity."

Bob flushed at the word.

"I guess you'd better take your time," went on Collins. "You may be all
right, for all I know, but I haven't got time to find out."

He rang a bell twice, and snatched down the telephone receiver.