“Not to me, sir. My Church--I’m a Fundamentalist, an’ I didn’t read ’em more than half the scenario--started out by disownin’ me for aspersin’ the National Honour. A bunch of our home papers got holt of it next. They said I was a ren’gade an’ done it for dollars. An’ then the ladies on the Social Betterment an’ Uplift Committees took a hand. In _your_ country you don’t know the implications of _that_! I’m--I’m a one-hundred-per-cent. American, but--I didn’t know what men an’ women are. I guess none of us do at home, or we’d say so, instead o’ playin’ at being American Cit’zens. There’s no law with Us under which a man can be jailed for aspersin’ the National Honour. There’s no need. It got into the Legislature, an’ one Senator there he spoke for an hour, demandin’ to have me unanimously an’ internationally disavowed by--by my Maker, I presoom. No one else stood by me. I’d been to the big Jew combines that control the Movie business in our country. I’d been to Heuvelstein--he represents sixty-seven millions dollars’ interests. They say he’s never read a scenario in his life. He read every last word of mine aloud. He laughed some, but he said he was doin’ well in a small way, and he didn’t propose to start up any pogroms against the Chosen in New York. He said I was ahead of my time. I know that. An’ then--my wife’s best friend was back of this--folk at home got talkin’ about callin’ for an inquiry into my state o’ mind, an’ whether I was fit to run my own affairs. I saw a lawyer or two over that, an’ I came to a realisin’ sense of American Law _an’_ Justice. That was another of the things I didn’t know. It made me sick to my stummick, sir--sick with physical an’ mental terror an’ dread. So I quit. I changed my name an’ quit two years back. Those ancient prophets an’ martyrs haven’t got much on me in the things a Democracy hands you if you don’t see eye to eye with it. Therefore, I have no abidin’-place except this old caravan. Now sir, we two are like ships that pass in the night, except, as I said, I’ll be very pleased to tow you into Doncaster this morning. Is there anythin’ about _me_ strikes _you_ in any way as deviatin’ from sanity?” “Not in the least,” I replied quickly. “But what have you done with your scenario?” “Deposited it in the Bank of England at London.” “Would you sell it?” “_No_, sir.” “Couldn’t it be produced here?” “I am a one-hundred-per-cent. American. The way _I_ see it, I could not be a party to an indirect attack on my Native Land.” Once again he ground his jaws. There did not seem to be much left to say. The heat in the shut caravan was more and more oppressive. Time had stood still with me listening. I was aware now that the owls had ceased hooting and that a night had gone out of the world. I rose from the bunk. Mr. Tarworth, carefully rebuttoning his raincoat, opened the door. “Good Lord Gord Almighty!” he cried with a child’s awed reverence. “It’s sun-up. Look!”