"Big house, over the hill," the agent said. "Only big house around here—you can't miss it. Got a high stone fence all around it and two vicious dogs. God knows what he's scared of." This was a different man from the one who had remarked on the beauty of the evening.
"Thanks," Doak said. "Thanks again."
Political resentment—or some local feud? Doak went along the platform to the single step that led to the street.
There was a breeze from the east, cooling the warm air. He turned in at the drug store and could scarcely believe his eyes.
Bent wire chairs and marble-topped tables with bent wire legs. No toasters, video sets, geiger counters, ray guns or portable garbage detergents.
But dim and cool and with a high marble fountain. "A lime-ade," Doak said, "with a sprig of mint."
The man behind the fountain wore a blue jacket over his white shirt. He had a thin face and a high-domed head and intelligent blue eyes.
Doak sat on one of the high wire stools and lighted a cigarette. "Hot day, was it?"
"Hot enough. But we get the night breeze. Stranger in town?"
"From Milwaukee," Doak said. "Out to visit Senator Arnold."