The President bowed his head and walked slowly back to his seat. He sat down, and with great fatigue evident in his voice, he concluded his polemic.
"That's why we must have pep, gentlemen. Pep. Now—how do you spell it?"
"P! E! P!" roared the department heads.
The meeting was over. The department heads filed out.
Colihan's secretary placed the morning mail on his desk. There was a stack of memos at least an inch thick, and the Personnel Manager moaned at the sight of it.
"Production report doesn't look too good," said Miss Blanche, crisply. "Bet we get a flood of aptitude cards from Morgan today. Grimswitch has sent over a couple. That makes eleven from him this month. He really has his problems."
Colihan grunted. He deserves them, he thought.
"How did the meeting go?"
"Huh?" Colihan looked up. "Oh, fine, fine. Boss was in good voice, as usual."