If, by this time, the astute reader has begun to suspect that Leland Hale might perhaps be lurking behind that gray beard and that anagrammatical alias, that reader may give himself a small pat on his back. Leland Hale was perfectly capable of posing as an art expert for the very simple reason that he was an art expert. Therefore, it was with perfect and utter aplomb that he turned to the fat civilian, evinced moderate surprise, and said: "I am Dr. Dale, sir. And whom have I the honor of addressing?"
The civilian bowed very slightly, a mere angling of the spine and a slight bob of the head. "I have," said the chubby one in slightly accented Standard, "the honor to be the director of the Grosstat Museum of Cultural History, Dr. Rudolf Mier."
Leland Hale looked pleasantly surprised. "Ah! Dr. Mier! A very great pleasure to meet you, sir."
"We received your subradiogram, Doctor," said Mier. "Naturally, I, myself, came to meet you."
"Naturally," agreed Leland Hale.
"We get very few extra-planetary visitors here," Dr. Mier continued apologetically. "Apfahl is, I fear, a little off the—ah—beaten path. Of course, we expect—"
"—to be more widely recognized after the opening of the time capsule," Leland Hale finished for him. "Of course. And it's only right. The galaxy must give due respect to the birthplace of the great Dachboden—and they shall, never fear."
The Director looked like a freshly-petted cocker spaniel.
"We have arranged for your stay here, Dr. Dale. The Kayser Hotel is holding a suite for you. Your instruments—" He gestured toward the pile of luggage. "—will be taken there. I wonder if you would honor me with your presence at lunch?"
"By all means, my dear Director—but the honor will be entirely mine."