When I arrived at Denver, I went to the radio station where Koehler worked. I told him that if he had proof that we could print, we would buy the story. As the first substantial proof, I asked to see the piece of strange metal he was supposed to have. Koehler said it had been sent to another city to be analyzed. I asked to see pictures of the crashed saucers. These, too, proved to be somewhere else. So did the queer “space clock” that Koehler was said to have. By this time I was sure it was all a gag. I had the feeling that Koehler, back of his manner of seeming indignation at my demands, was hugely enjoying himself. I cut the interview short and called Ken Purdy in New York. “Well, thank God that’s laid to rest,” he said when I told him. But even though the “little men” story had turned out-as expected—a dud, Koehler had done me a good turn. An old friend, William E. Barrett, well-known fiction writer, now lived in Denver. Thanks to Koehler’s gag, I had a pleasant visit with Bill and his family. On the trip back, I bought a paper at the Chicago airport. On an inside page I ran across Koehler’s name. According to the A.P., he had just admitted the whole thing was a big joke. But in spite of this, the “little men” story goes on and on. Apparently not even Koehler can stop it now. CHAPTER XIX For two weeks after my return to Washington, General Sory Smith held off a final answer about my trip to Wright Field. Meantime, Ken Purdy had called him backing my request to see the Project files. It was obvious to me that Wright Field was determined not to open the files. But the General was trying to avoid making it official. “Why can’t you accept my word there’s nothing to the saucers?” he asked me one day. “You’re impeaching my personal veracity.” But finally he saw there was no other way out. He told me I had been officially refused permission to see the Wright Field files. Some time later, Ken Purdy phoned General Smith. “General, if the Air Force wants to talk to us off the record, we’ll play ball. _True_ will either handle it from then on whatever way you think best or we’ll keep still.” Whether this offer was relayed higher up, I don’t know. But nothing came of it. Meantime, saucer reports had begun to come in from all over the country. Some even came from abroad. Some of these 1950 sightings have already been mentioned in early chapters. Besides the strange affair at Tucson on February 1, there were several other cases in February. Three of these were in South America. One saucer was reported near the naval air station at Alameda, California. Some were sighted in Texas, New Mexico, and other parts of the Southwest. In March, the wave of sightings reached such a height that the Air Force again denied the saucers’ existence. This followed a report that a flying disk had crashed near Mexico City and that the wreckage had been viewed by U. S. Air Force officials.