"That old deputy told me you believe in flying saucers," I said.
"I do. I really do. From Mars, probably. But they certainly won't turn out to be fish. Fish talking? Come now."
"I didn't believe it at first myself. Listen, Professor, come with me. See and hear for yourself."
"Well, I don't know."
It took me an hour before I had him half convinced. I almost dragged him to my car.
"This had better not turn out to be a practical joke," he said. The professor was somewhere between sixty and seventy. He was kind of thin and he sported a long white mustache.
It was getting toward evening when we got to the lodge.
I ushered him in to my room. "There," I said, flinging open the bathroom door.
"Where?" he said.
"There."