It was at that moment that my youngest foreman stuck his head in the
door, a rather stunned look on his face.
"Mr. Morrison," he said. "Will you come out here for a moment?"
"What's the matter now?" I sighed.
He looked more perplexed than ever. "It's that robot, Jerry," he said.
"He says he has a very important question to ask you."
"Well, send him in."
A moment later the eight-foot frame ducked through the doorway.
"I'm sorry to trouble you, Mr. Morrison," Jerry said politely. "But
tomorrow is voting day, you know. And now that we're men--well, where
do we androids go to register?"