The conversation with Cave in prison was lofty in tone and seemed to deal with moral problems. It was apparent that since the task of governing is largely one of keeping order, it had become, with the passage of time, necessary for the Cavite rulers to compose in Cave’s name different works of ethical instruction to be used for the guidance and control of the population. I assume that since they now control all records, all original sources, it is an easy matter for them to “discover” some relevant text which gives clear answer to any moral or political problem which has not been anticipated in previous commentaries. The work of falsifying records, expunging names is, I should think, somewhat more tricky but they seem to have accomplished it in Cave’s Testament, brazenly assuming that those who recall the earlier versions will die off in time, leaving a generation which knows only what they wish it to know, excepting of course the “calculable minority” of nonconformists, of base Lutherists. Cave’s term in prison was far less dramatic than official legend, though more serious. He was jailed for hit-and-run driving on the highway from Santa Monica into Los Angeles. I went to see him that evening with Paul. When we arrived at the jail, we were not allowed near him though Paul’s lawyers had been permitted to go inside a few minutes before our arrival. Iris was sitting in the outer office, pale and shaken. A bored policeman in uniform sat fatly at a desk at the other end of the office, ignoring us. “They’re the best lawyers in L.A.,” said Paul quickly. “They’ll get him out in no time.” Iris looked at him bleakly. “What happened?” I asked, sitting down beside her on the bench. “How did it happen?” “I wasn’t with him.” She shook her head several times as though to dispel a profound daydream. “He called me and I called you. They _are_ the best, Paul?” “I can vouch that....” “Did he kill anybody?” “We ... we don’t know yet. He hit an old man and went on driving. I don’t know why; I mean why he didn’t stop. He just went on and the police car caught him. The man’s in the hospital now. They say it’s bad; he’s unconscious, an old man ...” “Any reporters here?” asked Paul. “Anybody else know besides us?” “Nobody. You’re the only person I called.” “This could wreck everything.” Paul was frightened. But Cave was rescued, at considerable expense to the company. The old man chose not to die immediately while the police and the courts of Los Angeles, at that time well known for their accessibility to free-spending reason, proved more than obliging. After a day and a night in prison. Cave was released on bail and when the case came to court, it was handled discreetly by the magistrate.