After the midday heat had passed, Schiller and Bruce arrived at the express warehouse.
The work here was simple enough. The recorder was responsible for logging every item during unloading and attaching labels, while Bruce, as a mover, was responsible for transporting cargo from one place to another.
Their work areas did not completely overlap. Bruce spent most of his time outside, while Schiller spent most of his time indoors. Still, there were times when they crossed paths. Whenever Bruce carried something in, he could see Schiller recording items near the shelves.
That eased one of Bruce's worries, because he had actually been very concerned that, once Schiller was out of his sight, he would create far too many job opportunities.
For the entire afternoon, Bruce worked diligently. He also confirmed that Schiller had not pulled any tricks. He merely moved among the shelves, conscientiously logging every item.
For some reason, Bruce actually felt relieved. Schiller had behaved normally for five whole hours—five uninterrupted hours. But he soon realized he had been happy too soon.
By the time work ended, it was nearly dark. Bruce headed straight out of the warehouse, but Schiller called to him and said, "Come on. Let's go collect today's wages."
Bruce asked curiously, "Wages? Didn't we just get paid?"
"Did we? You mean those few dozen dollars? Come on, we worked for four whole hours. Do you think that money was worthy of our hard work?"
Bruce had a bad feeling, so he hurried after Schiller. After weaving through several turns, they arrived beneath the outer wall of the warehouse district. Waiting there was, unexpectedly, the man who had recruited workers that morning.
Schiller walked over, glanced around, and said to him, "I've moved the goods over. Is the truck ready?"
"Don't worry." The recruiter