Cugel arranged a tray with viands of quality, while Weamish took only a small dish of boiled burdock leaves. Cugel asked in wonder: “Is that paltry meal adequate to your appetite?”

Weamish frowned down at his dish. “It is admittedly a trifle spare. I find that an over-rich diet reduces my zeal.”

Cugel laughed confidently. “I intend to innovate a program of rational operations, and this frantic harum-scarum zeal of yours, with all shirt-tails flying, will become unnecessary.”

Weamish pursed his lips. “You will find that, at times, you are working as hard as your underlings. That is the nature of the supervisorial position.”

“Never!” declared Cugel expansively. “I insist upon a rigid separation of functions. A toiler does not supervise and the supervisor does not toil. But as for your meal tonight, you are retired from work; you may eat and drink as you see fit!”

“My account is closed,” said Weamish. “I do not care to reopen the books.”

“A small matter, surely,” said Cugel. “Still, if you are concerned, eat and drink as you will, to my account!”

“That is most generous!” Jumping to his feet, Weamish limped at speed to the buffet. He returned with a selection of choice meats, preserved fruits, pastries, a large cheese and a flask of wine, which he attacked with astonishing gusto.

A sound from above attracted Cugel’s attention. He looked up to discover Gark and Gookin crouched on a shelf. Gark held a tablet upon which Gookin made entries, using an absurdly long stylus.

Gark inspected Cugel’s plate. “Item: oil-fish, smoked and served with garlic and one leek, at four terces. Item: one fowl, good quality, large size, served with one cup of sauce and seven garnishes, at eleven terces. Item: three pastries of mince with herbs, at three terces each, to a total of nine terces. A salad of assorted stuffs: six terces. Item: three fardels, at two terces, to a total of six terces. Item: one large order of quince conserve, valued at three terces. Wine, nine terces. A service of napery and utensils: one terce.”

Gookin spoke. “Noted and calculated. Cugel, place your mark at this point.”

“Not so fast!” spoke Weamish sharply. “My supper tonight is at Cugel’s expense. Include the charges to his account.”

Gark demanded: “Cugel, is this correct?”

“I did in fact issue the invitation,” said Cugel. “I dine here, however, in my capacity as supervisor. I hereby order that the charges for sustenance be waived. Weamish, as an honoured ex-employee, also eats without charge.”

Gark and Gookin uttered shrill cackles of laughter, and even Weamish showed a painful smile. “At Flutic,” said Weamish, “nothing is left to chance. Twango carefully distinguishes sentiment from business. If Twango owned the air, we would pay over coins for every gasp.”

Cugel spoke with dignity: “These practises must be revised and at once! Otherwise I will resign my position. I must also point out that the fowl was underdone and the garlic lacked savor.”

Gark and Gookin paid him no heed. Gookin tallied the charges on Weamish’s meal. “Very well, Cugel; once more, we require your mark.”

Cugel inspected the tablet. “These bird scratchings mean nothing to me!”

“Is that truly the case?” asked Gookin mildly. He took the tablet. “Aha, I notice an oversight. Add three terces for Weamish’s digestive pastilles.”

“Hold up!” roared Cugel. “What is the account at this instant?”

“One hundred and sixteen terces. We are often rendered a gratuity for our services.”

“This is not one of the occasions!” Cugel snatched the tablet and scribbled his mark. “Now be off with you! I cannot dine in dignity with a pair of weird little swamp-hoppers peering over my shoulder.”

Gark and Gookin bounded away in a fury. Weamish said: “That last remark struck somewhat close to the knuckle. Remember, Gark and Gookin prepare the food and whoever irks them sometimes finds noxious substances in his victual.”

Cugel spoke firmly. “They should rather beware of me! As supervisor, I am a person of importance. If Twango fails to enforce my directives, I will resign my post!”

“That option is of course open to you — as soon as you pay off your account.”

“I see no great problem there. If the supervisor earns three hundred terces a week, I can quickly discharge my account.”

Weamish drank deeply from his goblet. The wine seemed to loosen his tongue. He leaned toward Cugel and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Three hundred terces a week, eh? For me that was a fluke! Yelleg and Malser are slime-divers, as we call them. They earn three to twenty terces for each scale found, depending on quality. The ‘Clover-leaf Femurials’ bring ten terces, as do the ‘Dorsal Double Luminants’. An ‘Interlocking Sequalion’ for either turret or pectorus brings twenty terces. The rare ‘Lateral Flashers’ are also worth twenty terces. Whoever finds the ‘Pectoral Skybreak Spatterlight’ will gain one hundred terces.”

Cugel poured more wine into Weamish’s goblet. “I am listening with two ears.”

Weamish drank the wine but otherwise seemed hardly to notice Cugel’s presence. “Yelleg and Malser work from before dawn until dark. They earn ten to fifteen terces a day on the average, from which the costs of board, lodging and incidentals are deducted. As supervisor you will see to their safety and comfort, at a salary of ten terces per day. Additionally, you gain a bonus of one terce for each scale exhumed by Yelleg and Malser, regardless of type. While Yelleg and Malser warm themselves at the fire or take their tea, you yourself are entitled to dive for scales.”

“‘Dive’?” asked Cugel in perplexity.

“Precisely so, into the pit created by Sadlark’s impact with the mire. The work is tedious and one must dive deep. Recently —” here Weamish drank an entire goblet of wine at a gulp “— I scratched into a whole nest of good quality scales, with many ‘specials’ among them, and the next week, by great good fortune, I did the same. Thus I was able to amortize my account, and I have elected to retire on the instant.”

Cugel’s meal had suddenly gone tasteless. “And your previous earnings?”

“On good days I might earn as much as Yelleg and Malser.”

Cugel turned his eyes to the ceiling. “With an income of twelve terces a day and expenses ten times as much, how does one profit by working?”

“Your question is to the point. First of all, one learns to dine without reference to subtle distinctions. Also, when one sleeps the sleep of exhaustion, he ignores the decor of his chamber.”

“As supervisor, I will make changes!” But Cugel spoke with little conviction.

Weamish, now somewhat befuddled, held up a long white finger. “Still, do not overlook the opportunities! They exist, I assure you, and in unexpected places!” Leaning forward, Weamish showed Cugel a leer of cryptic significance.

“Speak on!” said Cugel. “I am attentive!”

After belching, swallowing another draught of wine, and looking over his shoulder, Weamish said: “I can only emphasize that, to overcome the wiles of such as Twango, the most superb skills are necessary.”

“Your remarks are interesting,” said Cugel. “May I refill your goblet?”

“With pleasure.” Weamish drank with satisfaction, then leaned once more toward Cugel. “Would you care to hear a great joke?”

“I would indeed.”

Weamish spoke in a confidential whisper: “Twango considers me already in my dotage!” Leaning back in his chair, Weamish showed Cugel a gap-toothed grin.

Cugel waited, but Weamish’s joke had been told. Cugel laughed politely. “What an absurdity!”

“Is it not? When by a most ingenious method I have settled my accounts? Tomorrow I will leave Flutic and spend several years traveling among the fashionable resorts. Then let Twango wonder as to who is in his dotage, he or I.”

“I have no doubt as to his verdict. In fact, all is clear except the details of your ‘ingenious method’.”

Weamish gave a wincing grimace and licked his lips, as vanity and bravado struggled against the last reeling elements of his caution. He opened his mouth to speak … A gong sounded, as someone at the door pulled hard on the bell-rope.

Weamish started to rise, then, with a careless laugh, subsided into his chair. “Cugel, it now becomes your duty to attend to late visitors, and to early visitors as well.”

“I am ‘supervisor of operations’, not general lackey,” said Cugel.

“A noble hope,” said Weamish wistfully. “First you must cope with Gark and Gookin, who enforce all regulations to the letter.”