crash and a thud, right outside his door. He flung the door open.
Senator Steve was rising from the flattened semblance of a washtub and
feeling of himself tenderly. The Senator blinked, surveyed the wrecked
tub and the kettle silently, and then without comment he stepped back
and kicked the kettle. It soared and dropped clanging into the hall
below.

Wishful appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Did you ring, Senator?"

"Yes, I did! And I'm goin' to ring again."

"Hold on!" said Wishful, "I'll come up and get the tub. I got the
kettle."

The Senator puffed into Bartley's room and sat on the edge of the bed.
He wiped his bald head, smiling cherubically. "Did you hear him, askin'
me, a member of the Society for the Prevention of Progress, if I rang
for him! That's about all the respect I command in this community. I
sure want to apologize for not stoppin' to knock," added the Senator.

Bartley grinned. "It was hardly necessary. I heard you."

"I just came up to see if you would take dinner with me and my missus.
We're goin' to eat right soon. You see, my missus never met up with a
real, live author."

"Thanks, Senator. I'll be glad to meet your family. But suppose you
forget that author stuff and just take me as a tenderfoot out to see the
sights. I'll like it better."