Have a toddy, and get that tired, cold blood
circulating."

"Revolting," said Sowles.

"Politics make strange bed-fellows, eh, Sowles? Like you 'n' me! And
let's not forget the Little Brown Jug! Ho, ho, ho!"

Sowles turned to (or rather, on) Cam. "The Speech?"

"Right. The Speech. Right here, sir." Cam tendered the manuscript.

The Grimmest of Reapers found the most uncomfortable chair in the room,
sat, and began reading. The first page was peeled off and dropped to the
floor; the second; the third; and finally, the entire effort was strewn
beside Sowles, who rose in what he undoubtedly considered righteous
wrath.

"You've missed the whole _Message!_" he hissed.

"Sir?"

"All this Pollyanna frou-frou is all right as frosting--but you've left
out the _cake!_"

Cam was momentarily spooked--and not "on account of the account,"
either. Sowles looked fully capable of loosing a full-fledged
Inquisition, complete with rack and thumbscrew, at Cam's well-barbered
head.

Sowles continued to fulminate. "You haven't got one word in there about
our _enemies!_"

"But Father, I refer several times to the Slave World and its evil
rulers...."

"Not just _Them!_ What about the traitors in our midst--the sinister
cabal of pinko liberals and moderate conservatives that have undermined
our defenses...."

"I thought the Smirch Society had staked out that claim," said Cam.

"Bah! The Smirchers are too mealy-mouthed for the needs of the hour. I
think _they're_ a little soft on Communism. And what about the race
mongrelizers?" spluttered Sowles. "Trying to subvert America with an
Afro-Asian Trojan Horse!"

"I suppose you can trace your ancestry all the way back to Caligula,"
muttered Everett.

"That's right, you human sewer! If I hadn't been assured you might be of
use to the Cause--" He left the sentence unfinished.

"I get the picture, Father." Cam ushered Sowles to the door. "We'll get
the new draft out right away."

"And don't forget the economic heretics," Sowles shouted as the door
closed on him. "The fiends that concocted the income tax, and Social
Security, and the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, and...."

"Wow," breathed Cam, when the torrent was finally cut off.

"How do you like Galahad now?" asked Ev from the bar.

"Build me one too," answered Cam.

* * * * *

Nevertheless, the revision had to be done, and done it was.

"That'll have 'em seein' Red, all right," p