ear one, sir?"

"Not until I have to," said Alan. "Now please call some one to show me
my cabin."

"Band playing in the lounge, sir. Tea is being served in the Moon Room,
and the Bar is open until just before takeoff."

"Thanks, but I've been ill. I just want to find my cabin."

"Boy!" called Steward Davis. "Show this gentleman to 31Q."

* * * * *

Alan followed the pageboy through a complex of corridors, ascending
spirals of stairs, down a hall, and to the door of Cabin 31Q. The boy
threw open the door and Alan stepped in, then halted in shocked
disbelief at sight of a white-haired old man who was just lifting a
shirt from an opened suitcase.

"I am Dr. Chase. Isn't this Cabin 31Q?"

The old man beamed, his pink skin breaking into a thousand tiny
wrinkles. "That's right. 31Q it is."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Have you no powers of observation? Unpacking, of course. I was assigned
to this cabin."

Staggering over to a bunk, Alan sagged back against the wall. He lifted
his tired eyelids and stared at the sprightly old gentleman.

"But I was promised a cabin by myself!"

The old man looked distressed. "I'm very sorry, young man. I, too, hoped
to have a cabin to my self. I learned only a few minutes ago that I was
to be quartered with another passenger--evidently you. Somebody made a
mistake, there's no question of that, but the Purser tells me that every
bit of space is occupied, and no other arrangements can be made. Unless
you want to postpone your voyage, and follow in a later ship?"

"No," said Alan. His voice had sunk to a whisper. "No, I can't do that."

"Then we'll have to make the best of it, young man," he said, picking up
a pile of handkerchiefs, and putting them in the drawer he had pulled
out from the wall.

"Let me introduce myself. I am Wilson Larrabee--teacher, or student,
according to the point of view. Some years of my life I've spent being a
professor of this or that at various universities, and the other years
I've spent in travel. Whenever the bank account gets low, I offer my
knowledge to the nearest university, and stay there until I pile up
enough credits so I can travel again."

"Sounds a lonely sort of life, with no roots anywhere."

"Oh, no! My wife loved travelling as much as I do, and wherever she was,
was home." He paused, his hand arrested in the act of hanging up his
last necktie, and for a moment his face was somber. Then he finis