TOM BENSON scanned the tenth page of the printed report before him and squeezed it into a last sentence for his summary paragraph. He clipped the two together, tossed them into his OUT box, and stood up. Through the window he could see the far side of Pennsylvania Avenue, where an increase in the pedestrian traffic signalled the beginning of the noon hour. Across the small office, set at an angle between the two windows in this coveted corner location, was the desk of his superior. It had been empty all morning, except for one early descent upon drawers and papers, hurried and wordless. His own desk was against one of the two partitions which had been put up to make the inner office. Through the thin panels came the sounds of the staff in the larger room. Benson stepped outside to one of the four desks, and then back to his own in preparation for joining the rising stream pressing in upon cafeterias and counters and tables all over Washington. In the act of closing the large double drawer, he stopped and took out a folder marked PERSONAL. Among its miscellaneous contents he found a copy of his job application. The neat green type of the questions accented the carboned blur of the answers. Date: February 20, I949. Present position: international economist, Developmental Studies Branch, Trade and Investment Research Staff, Office of Economic Affairs, Department of State. One year ago this formidable designation had entitled him to a desk, surfaced like a Sunday school