When the yellow sheet on which Tom has recorded all the information he has gathered on "four long Saturday afternoons" and countless hours during evenings at the public library and home, Tom Benecke is incredulous:
It was hard for him to understand that he actually had to abandon it—it was ridiculous—and he began to curse.
Tom finds it difficult to realize that of all his papers this yellow sheet has to be the one to have floated out his window almost as though in insult. He stands and considers the situation. It will take him two months to duplicate all the information recorded on this yellow sheet. If he does not submit his fresh ideas on ways to display groceries on Monday, they will not be in time for the spring displays, and he will lose the promise of advancement in his company.
Because he desires professional advancement more than anything else, it is not long before Tom impulsively goes out the window to retrieve his yellow sheet. When he reaches the paper on the narrow ledge of the high apartment building, Tom bends to pick it up. As he leans carefully, Tom sees beneath him and realizes how dangerously high up he is:
And a violent instantaneous explosion of absolute terror roared through him . . . he began to tremble violently, panic flaring through his mind and muscles, and he felt the blood rush from the surface of his skin.
Considering what would happen if he falls, Tom realizes he must fight against his panic and place one foot before the other until he reaches his window:
He didn't know how many dozens of tiny sidling steps he had taken, his chest, belly, and face pressed to the wall; but he knew the slender hold he was keeping on his mind and body was going to break.
Trying desperately to reign in his terror, Tom moves slowly along the ledge as he holds the retrieved paper between his teeth. He concentrates on putting one foot before the other until his hands grope nothing but space and he slips at his window. Tom reaches desperately for something on which to hold, but his hands feel only space. As he starts to fall, Tom's wrists strike the window sill and are knocked off. When he begins to lose his balance, he does the following:
he flung his arms forward, his hands smashing against the window casing on either side; and—his body moving backward—his fingers clutched the narrow wood stripping of the upper pane.
For a brief moment, Tom hangs between life and death. But he manages to pull himself up, and he looks through the closed glass at his living room and the comfort and safety he has left behind. When he notices his reflection in the glass, Tom takes the yellow sheet out of his mouth, crumbles it, and puts it into his pocket. Then, he assesses the situation in which he finds himself. Tom knows that his wife will not return for four hours; he also knows that he cannot stay on the ledge that long. Pondering the reality that his life would be wasted if he were to die now, Tom rethinks his values.
Forming a plan, Tom summons all his strength and shoots his arm forward toward the glass, shouting his wife's name. Swinging his fist, he breaks through the glass; he then falls forward into the room. Although he feels the "triumph" of success, Tom does not lie on the floor as he has promised himself if he should make it back into the apartment. Instead, he picks up the broken glass. Distractedly, he unfolds the yellow sheet for which he has risked his life. Now it has lost its importance. Tom places it on his desk with only a pencil to hold it down. Hurriedly, Tom grabs his coat, hoping to catch his wife at the movies. When he throws open the apartment door, the draft lifts the yellow sheet, and it again blows out the broken window. This time Tom just laughs at the absurdity of his obsession with his yellow sheet when his marriage is what matters.
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