"My husband just rented cabin 16 from your wife," she said to Grant. "Now he's gone downtown and I seem to have locked myself out. I wonder if I could borrow your pass key?" Just then the telephone rang. I went inside to answer it; it was someone calling from Los Angeles, wanting to reserve a cabin for a week from Saturday night. There was a great deal of confusion, repetition, and mind-changing; and by the time I hung up and looked outside, I saw that the vivacious young woman had driven away. I smiled as I went out toward the linen closet to bring my joke on Grant to its climax. "Who was that woman talking to you just now?" I asked. "Oh, she's the wife of the guy you rented 16 to," Grant replied airily, lifting an armful of neatly folded snowy sheets onto a shelf of the linen closet. "She was locked out. She just borrowed the pass key; she quick brought it back again." I tried to look shocked as I said, "Sixteen! Why, I didn't rent sixteen to anyone! Here, let me have your pass key!" I seized the key and dashed across to 16. Grant, by the linen closet, couldn't see me. I unlocked the door of 16, slammed it loudly for his benefit, and raced back to him. "She's cleaned the place out!" I cried, with a malicious enjoyment of the expression on his face. "Lamp, throw rugs, ash trays--everything's gone! And you're the smart boy who's been bawling me out for not checking up on people before I give them what they want. I'd give toilet paper to a stranger off the highway, maybe, but believe me, before I'd give anyone a pass key I'd be pretty sure--" Grant was getting up slowly, starting toward the cabin. I leaned against him, giggling. "It's all a joke!" I gasped. "I fixed it up with that woman to ask you for the key--she didn't really take those things out of the cabin--so I'd be able to get back at you for all the things you said about me. I wanted you to feel foolish, for once. It was just a joke!" A few minutes later Grant strode into the living room, where I was reading a magazine Mrs. Clark found in one of the cabins. "A joke, eh?" he said grimly. He was giving me that withering look again, and this time I had a peculiar feeling that I deserved it. "Well, if it was a joke, your peppy little girlfriend was the one who played it. Both of the wool blankets are gone from the beds in 16!"