In the next few months, other flying-disk stories hit the front pages. Two Eastern Airline pilots reported a double-decked mystery ship sighted near Montgomery, Alabama. I learned of two other sightings, one over the Pacific Ocean and one in California. The second one, seen through field glasses, was described as rocket-shaped, as large as a B-29. There were also rumors of disks being tracked by radar, but it was almost a year before I confirmed these reports. When Purdy wired me, early in May of ’49, I had half forgotten the disks. It had been months since any important sightings had been reported. But his message quickly revived my curiosity. If he thought the subject was hot, I knew he must have reasons. When I walked into his office at 67 West 44th, Purdy stubbed out his cigarette and shook hands. He looked at me through his glasses for a moment. Then he said abruptly: “You know anything about the disks?” “If you mean what they are—no.” He motioned for me to sit down. Then he swiveled his chair around, his shoulders hunched forward, and frowned out the window. “Have you seen the Post this week?” I told him no. “There’s something damned queer going on. For fifteen months, Project ‘Saucer’ is buttoned up tight. Top secret. Then suddenly, Forrestal gets the _Saturday Evening Post_ to run two articles, brushing the whole thing off. The first piece hits the stands—and then what happens?” Purdy swung around, jabbed his finger at a document on. his desk. “That same day, the Air Force rushes out this Project ‘Saucer’ report. It admits they haven’t identified the disks in any important cases. They say it’s still serious enough—wait a minute—“he thumbed through the stapled papers—” ‘to require constant vigilance by Project “Saucer” personnel and the civilian population.’” “You’d think the _Post_ would make a public kick,” I said. “I don’t mean it’s an out-and-out denial,” said Purdy. “It doesn’t mention the Post—just contradicts it. In fact, the report contradicts itself. It looks as if they’re trying to warn people and yet they’re scared to say too much.” I looked at the title on the report: “A Digest of Preliminary Studies by the Air Materiel Command, Wright Field, Dayton, Ohio, on ‘Flying Saucers.’” “Have the papers caught it yet?” I asked Purdy. “You mean its contradicting the _Post_?” He shook his head. “No, the Pentagon press release didn’t get much space. How many editors would wade through a six-thousand-word government report? Even if they did, they’d have to compare it, item for item, with the Post piece.” “Who wrote the _Post_ story?” Purdy lit a cigarette and frowned out again at the skyscrapers. “Sidney Shallett—and he’s careful. He had Forrestal’s backing. The Air Force flew him around, arranged interviews, supposedly gave him inside stuff. He spent two months on it. They O.K.’d his script, which practically says the saucers are bunk. Then they reneged on it.”