"A hundred dollars a day plus expenses," Mr. Oyster said quietly. "I like the fact that you already seem to have some interest and knowledge of the matter. I liked the way you knew my name when I walked in the door; my picture doesn't appear often in the papers." "No go," Simon said, a sad quality in his voice. "A fifty thousand dollar bonus if you bring me a time traveler." "Out of the question," Simon said. "But _why_?" Betty wailed. "Just for laughs," Simon told the two of them sourly, "suppose I tell you a funny story. It goes like this:" * * * * * * * * * I got a thousand dollars from Mr. Oyster (Simon began) in the way of an advance, and leaving him with Betty who was making out a receipt, I hustled back to the apartment and packed a bag. Hell, I'd wanted a vacation anyway, this was a natural. On the way to Idlewild I stopped off at the Germany Information Offices for some tourist literature. It takes roughly three and a half hours to get to Gander from Idlewild. I spent the time planning the fun I was going to have. It takes roughly seven and a half hours from Gander to Shannon and I spent that time dreaming up material I could put into my reports to Mr. Oyster. I was going to have to give him some kind of report for his money. Time travel yet! What a laugh! Between Shannon and Munich a faint suspicion began to simmer in my mind. These statistics I read on the _Oktoberfest_ in the Munich tourist pamphlets. Five million people attended annually. Where did five million people come from to attend an overgrown festival in comparatively remote Southern Germany? The tourist season is over before September 21st, first day of the gigantic beer bust. Nor could the Germans account for any such number. Munich itself has a population of less than a million, counting children. And those millions of gallons of beer, the hundreds of thousands of chickens, the herds of oxen. Who ponied up all the money for such expenditures? How could the average German, with his twenty-five dollars a week salary? In Munich there was no hotel space available. I went to the Bahnhof where they have a hotel service and applied. They put my name down, pocketed the husky bribe, showed me where I could check my bag, told me they'd do what they could, and to report back in a few hours. I had another suspicious twinge. If five million people attended this beer bout, how were they accommodated? The _Theresienwiese_, the fair ground, was only a few blocks away. I was stiff from the plane ride so I walked. * * * * *