I pressed the switch, turning the "Moonrise Motel" sign on and off several times rapidly. It was one of the systems I used to break up his talk-fests, which might otherwise last for hours and hours. When he was at the grocery store, immersed in conversation with the plump Mr. Bertram, I could motion to him through the kitchen window that I wanted him to come home. (If he happened to be looking toward the kitchen window!) When Grant came in I called to him, "Go wake up Hellwig and tell him to come to dinner, will you? He's in 14, you know." Grant picked me up and swung me into the air. "Dinner? Good! I thought you were calling me home because you had some work for me to do." Then he set me down abruptly. "14! Nope, you must be mistaken. I rented 14 to two girls while you and Grandma were cleaning house." Grant showed me the day's list of cabin numbers and people's names. "Scoville" was written after number 14. "Oh, I did forget to write Hellwig's name down," I said. "Grandma asked me for the vacuum cleaner as soon as I came in, and I forgot all about writing his name after 14. But you must have rented some other cabin to those girls, and accidently written their name down after 14 instead. You couldn't have rented them 14, because Hellwig was lying right there on the bed taking a nap." "I rented the cabin as a single," Grant said. "The door to the back bedroom was shut, so I quick locked it--see, here's the key." He brought a key out of his pocket. The little tag attached to it confirmed his story that this was the key to the back bedroom of 14. We looked at each other in despair. "Are you sure you put Hellwig in 14?" Grant asked. I nodded, and he sighed, pushing back his coarse brown hair. "Well, I'll go see if I can get him out once." We peeked through the slats of the Venetian blinds as Grant went across to 14 and knocked on the door. The door opened and after a few seconds of conversation he stepped inside and disappeared. Grandma rubbed the burn scars on her arms nervously, skirting around the newest, tender ones. It wasn't long before Grant came back, escorting a pale, indignant Hellwig. An aura of mothballs entered the room with them. "Fine nap I had," the old man spluttered. "A fine nap, with those--those hussies in the next room. Those baggages, those tarts, those--" "Please," I murmured. "Those girls were pretty mad," Grant said "Mad because there was a man in their cabin?" "Nope--mad because they hadn't found him!" "Those hussies," Hellwig went on. "How do you do, they acted as if they didn't know what clothes are for, running around with hardly a stitch on." "He's a old prude," Grandma whispered. "You mean to say, when Grant went in there to get you, they didn't have much on?" I asked fiercely.