Monday—August 13th
Sitting here at my study desk, I've been staring into space for an hour. I don't know what to think.
It was about noon today when Jim Pietre called the office on the phone.
"Now, look, Pete," he started out. "What kind of gag are you pulling?"
I chortled to myself and pulled the dead pan on him.
"What do you mean, boy?" I asked back into the phone. "Gag? What kind of gag? What are you talking about?"
"A coin. A coin." He was impatient. "You remember you sent me a coin in the mail?"
"Oh, yeah, that," I pretended to remember. "Look, you're an important research analyst on metals—too damned important to keep in touch with your old friends—so I thought I'd make a bid for your attention thataway."
"All right, give," he said in a low voice. "Where did you get it?" He was serious.