"Sure would. But to save your life, seems to me you wouldn't be so squeamish. People nowadays would think like that, anyway. I can see that they'd have to change a lot before they could be trusted with the kind of powers you got in elsewhen." "They will," the young man from elsewhen assured him. "Human nature is not immutable. But I take it we are agreed that we trade bodies just before we reach our destination. Shall we have a toast to it?" He filled the old man's shot glass so full it sloshed over in the moving train. "Before we drink to it," old George objected, "hadn't you ought to give me the money to bind the bargain?" "Why?" his host asked. "It's in my pocket, which will be yours when we trade." "That's right!" the old man said. "I get the clothes, too, don't I? Kind of a dignified getup. Sure would admire to be seen in that! Here's to it!" They clicked glasses and downed the drinks. "Now, shall we have some lunch?" Sandane asked. "You bet. Say, on the train, I'm tempted to order all the things that ain't good for me. If I do, my arthritis will be giving me hell tomorrow. I'm used to that, but as long as you'll be the one to suffer, maybe I should stick to my diet." "Order what you like. I can control the pain for you easily enough." "Can you teach me to do that?" the old man asked eagerly. "Wouldn't want you to be giving out any secrets you ain't supposed to, but surely that couldn't do any harm." "It wouldn't do you any good, either," Sandane replied. "This body won't give you a bit of trouble as long as it lasts. I absolutely guarantee that." "Not even a headache the morning after?" "Not even a headache. Not even fatigue." "Think of it! No hangovers in elsewhen. Must be a wonderful age to live in." "You'd be surprised how many people want to get away from it," Sandane remarked. "Shall we have something sent in or go to the diner?" "Let's go to the diner," old George decided. "I want to look over some of the chicks on this train. Could be one of them is a stranger in San Francisco, needs somebody to show her the town." "Could be," Sandane agreed. * * * * * After a hearty lunch, without a look at the right side of the menu, the old man started drinking again. He kept pleasantly tipsy all afternoon, trying to submerge the recurrent thought that this couldn't really be going to happen. Sandane continued to act the affable host, but made no move to put his plan into operation. They were in Sandane's compartment when the loudspeakers announced that passengers who were leaving the train at Oakland should get ready. The waiting was getting on the old man's nerves. "All right," he told Sandane, "if this is all a gag, the joke's finished." "It's not a joke," Sandane protested. "Then put up or shut up." "Very well," Sandane said. "Close your eyes and relax. You will go to sleep for a few moments."