nodded soberly. I held out a hand but she put her empty highball glass
in it instead of her own little paw. I shrugged and mixed and when I
returned and handed it to her I said, "I'll make you a deal. I'll call
you 'Nora' just so long as you maintain the manners and attitude of a
female, feminine, lady-type woman. I'll treat you like a woman, but
you've got to earn it. Is that a deal?"

She looked at me, her expression shy and as defenseless as a
bruiser-type caught reading sentimental poetry. I perceived that I had
again touched a sensitive spot by demanding that she be more than
physically spectacular. Her defenses went down and I saw that she really
did not know the answer to my question. I did. It had to do with
something that only the achievement of a God-like state--or extreme old
age--would change.

This time it was not so much the answer to why little boys walk high
fences in front of little girls. It had much more to do with the result
of what happens between little boys when the little girl hides her
baseball bat and straightens the seams of her stockings when one certain
little boy comes into sight. Joseph Barcelona did not admire my ability.
He had, therefore, caused me to back myself into a corner where I'd be
taken down a peg, shown-up as a second-rater--with the little girl as a
witness.

And why had Barcelona been so brash as to send the little girl into my
company in order for her to witness my downfall?

Let me tell you about Joe Barcelona.

* * * * *

Normally honest citizens often complain that Barcelona is living high
off'n the hawg instead of slugging it out in residence at Stateville,
Joliet, Illinois.

With their straight-line approach to simple logic, these citizens argue
that the advent of telepathy should have rendered the falsehood
impossible, and that perception should enable anybody with half a talent
to uncover hidden evidence. Then since Mr. Joseph Barcelona is
obviously not languishing in jail, it is patent that the police are not
making full use of their talented extrasensory operators, nor the
evidence thus collected.

And then after having argued thus, our upstanding citizen will fire off
a fast thought to his wife and ask her to invite the neighbors over that
evening for a game of bridge.

None of these simple-type of logicians seem to be aware of the rules for
bridge or poker that were in force prior to extrasensory training
courses. Since