“That’s very kind of you.”

“So if Mr. Smith has something on his soul he wants to confess, we won’t have to hurry him. I’ll step outside and phone.” Boone left.

Jill came over and said worriedly, “Jubal, I don’t like this. I think we were deliberately maneuvered so that Digby could get Mike alone and work on him.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Well? They haven’t any business doing that. I’m going to bust right in on them and tell Mike it’s time to leave.”

“Suit yourself,” Jubal answered, “but I think you’re acting like a broody hen. This isn’t like having the S.S. on our tails, Jill; this swindle is much smoother. There won’t be any strong-arm stuff.” He smiled. “It’s my opinion that if Digby tries to convert Mike, they’ll wind up with Mike converting him. Mike’s ideas are pretty hard to shake.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Relax. Help yourself to the free chow.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am . . . and if I ever turned down a free feed, they’d toss me out of the Authors’ Guild.” He piled paper-thin Virginia ham on buttered bread, added to it other items, none of them syntho, until he had an unsteady ziggurat, munched it and licked mayonnaise from his fingers.

Ten minutes later Boone had not returned. Jill said sharply, “Jubal, I’m not going to remain polite any longer. I’m going to get Mike out of there.”

“Go right ahead.”

She strode to the door. “Jubal, it’s locked.”

“Thought it might be.”

“Well? What do we do? Break it down?”

“Only as a last resort.” Jubal went to the inner door, looked it over carefully. “Mmm, with a battering ram and twenty stout men I might try it. But I wouldn’t count on it. Jill, that door would do credit to a bank vault—it’s just been prettied up to match the room. I’ve got one much like it for the fireproof off my study.”

“What do we do?”

“Beat on it, if you want to. You’ll just bruise your hands. I’m going to see what’s keeping friend Boone.”

But when Jubal looked out into the hallway he saw Boone just returning. “Sorry,” Boone said. “Had to have the Cherubim hunt up your driver. He was in the Happiness Room, having a bite of lunch. But your cab is waiting for you, just where I said.”

“Senator,” Jubal said, “we’ve got to leave now. Will you be so kind as to tell Bishop Digby?”

Boone looked perturbed. “I could phone him, if you insist. But I hesitate to do so—and I simply cannot walk in on a private audience.”

“Then phone him. We do insist.”

But Boone was saved the embarrassment as, just then, the inner door opened and Mike walked out. Jill took one look at his face and shrilled, “Mike! Are you all right?”

“Yes, Jill.”

“I’ll tell the Supreme Bishop you’re leaving,” said Boone and went past Mike into the smaller room. He reappeared at once. “He’s left,” he announced. “There’s a back way into his study.” Boone smiled. “Like cats and cooks, the Supreme Bishop goes without saying. That’s a joke. He says that ‘good-by’s’ add nothing to happiness in this world, so he never says good-by. Don’t be offended.”

“We aren’t. But we’ll say good-by now—and thank you for a most interesting experience. No, don’t bother to come down; I’m sure we can find our way out.”



24

Once they were in the air Jubal said, “Well, Mike, what did you think of it?”

Mike frowned. “I do not grok.”

“You aren’t alone, son. What did the Bishop have to say?”

Mike hesitated a long time, finally said, “My brother Jubal, I need to ponder until grokking is.”

“Ponder right ahead, son. Take a nap. That’s what I’m going to do.”

Jill said suddenly, “Jubal? How do they get away with it?”

“Get away with what?”

“Everything. That’s not a church—it’s a madhouse.”

It was Jubal’s turn to ponder before answering. “No, Jill, you’re mistaken. It is a church . . . and the logical eclecticism of our times.”

“Huh?”

“The New Revelation and all doctrines and practices under it are all old stuff, very old. All you can say about it is that neither Foster nor Digby ever had an original thought in his life. But they knew what would sell, in this day and age. So they pieced together a hundred time-worn tricks, gave them a new paint job, and they were in business. A booming business, too. The only thing that scares me is that I might live to see it sell too well—until it was compulsory for everybody.”