"Why not all go home?"
"You can't win," said Ben solemnly. "We did all go home once."
"And the accident happened anyway?"
"Certainly. A thief broke in and it clipped him. Just don't forget that this isn't a probability, it's certain. And the same mob-instinct that makes people gather around an injured man will keep the entire gang here, morbidly waiting to see who gets it in what way. There is that element of wonder, too, you know. Every man in the place knows that someone is going to get clipped with that crane. They're all cagey and very careful. It will be an accident despite planning, and therefore the unforeseen something will be out of the ordinary."
"Quite a problem, Peter," said Simpkins.
"I see it is."
"A lot of this veiling is sheer psychiatry. We've consulted the best behavior specialists in the system. Keeping the fact secret is worse than permitting free knowledge, according to them. But identifying the victim is far worse than to have everybody in a slight tizzy."
"Why?"
"Well, when it happens, we have a victim that realizes that part of the chance was his, and shock is not so great than it would be if no warning took place in light of the management knowing all about it beforehand. On the other hand, all the men who were not hurt get as much uplift after it happens as their downswing of anticipation. On the third hand—pardon the numbers, Peter—if the victim were positively identified, the rest would be no better off, but the victim would be a mental case from then on, and shock would set in prior to the accident. Then we'd be likely to run up the casualty rate. Follow?"