"Oh, there's no point in it," Mr. Mason said in a weary tone of voice.
"No point in it at all. I took pictures. I tried to get the Army up
here. I wrote letters." He shrugged expressively. "It's a cynical age
we live in, I guess. Everybody's very polite, but they make it clear
they think it's just a gimmick I worked up to get the hotel publicity."
He nodded seriously. "The whole trouble's with Mr. Steariot. If he had
a light bulb for a head, or seven legs, or talked funny, why, it'd be
a different thing entirely. But he looks and acts just like you or I.
Here I've got a legitimate flying saucer sitting on my property and you
might as well try to tell them it's a--well, a flying saucer! For all
they'll believe me. Now you two have seen it with your own eyes and you
don't believe it either."
Fred swallowed and looked at Alice for a moment. Then he said, "What
did you say his name was?"
"Mr. Steariot," Mr. Mason said. "Actually, he's just as happy nobody
believes he's from Venus. If they believed it, they'd probably lock him
up in jail somewhere or impound his saucer. As it is, he says this is
the first vacation he's had in years." Mr. Mason looked unhappily about
him. "He's probably in the lounge now. Want to meet him?"