"Mr. Kermit," said the angry voice on the phone, "this is George B. Stoddard."
I winced at the name and the all too familiar voice, but managed to sound cheerfully friendly.
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Stoddard," I oozed. "How are you and the Missus getting along in your dream castle?"
"That," said George B. Stoddard, "is what I called about. We have been having considerable difficulty for which I consider your construction men to be responsible."
"Now just a minute," I began. "I thought we agreed—"
"We agreed that I was to expect certain occasional minor repairs to be necessary due to the construction of the house," Stoddard broke in. "I know that."
"Then what's the trouble?" I demanded.
"This house is plagued with rats," said Stoddard angrily.
"Rats?" I echoed.
"Exactly!" my client snapped.