led as he raised the cup to his lips. Fright? Maybe.
Hard to tell. The man put down the cup and rubbed his forehead with the
back of his hand. "First, I went to the mayor's office," he said. "I
kept trying to think what anyone at home would do in my place. That
seemed a good bet. I asked a policeman where it was, and then I went
there."

"But you didn't get to see him."

"No. I saw a secretary. She said the mayor was in conference, and that I
would have to have an appointment. She let me speak to another man, one
of the mayor's assistants."

"And you told him?"

"No. I wanted to see the mayor himself. I thought that was the best
thing to do. I waited for a couple of hours, until another assistant
came along and told me flatly that the mayor wouldn't see me unless I
stated my business first." He drew in a deep breath. "So I stated it.
And then I was gently but firmly ushered back into the street again."

"They didn't believe you," said Morgan.

"Not for a minute. They laughed in my face."

Morgan nodded. "I'm beginning to get the pattern. So what did you do
next?"

"Next I tried the police. I got the same treatment there, only they
weren't so gentle. They wouldn't listen either. They muttered something
about cranks and their crazy notions, and when they asked me where I
lived, they thought I was--what did they call it?--a wise guy! Told me
to get out and not come back with any more wild stories."

"I see," said Morgan.

Jefferson Parks finished his last bite of pie and pushed the plate away.
"By then I didn't know quite what to do. I'd been prepared for almost
anything excepting this. It was frightening. I tried to rationalize it,
and then I quit trying. It wasn't that I attracted attention, or
anything like that, quite the contrary. Nobody even looked at me, unless
I said something to them. I began to look for things that were
_different_, things that I could show them, and say, see, this proves
that I'm telling the truth, look at it--" He looked up helplessly.

"And what did you find?"

"Nothing. Oh, little things, insignificant little things. Your
calendars, for instance. Naturally, I couldn't understand your frame of
reference. And the coinage, you stamp your coins; we don't. And
cigarettes. We don't have any such thing as tobacco." The man gave a
short laugh. "And your house dogs! We have little animals that look more
like rabbits than poodles. But there was nothing any more significant
than that. Ab