second call was from the chief
house-detective. He had caught a bell-hop peddling marijuana to the
waitresses. What was the manager's new policy? Sextus told him to hold
the boy in the locker room for him. Then one of the room clerks rang to
say that Gary Gable, the movie star, was raising hell in the lobby
because he couldn't get the bridal suite and demanded to see the
manager.

Sextus smiled. These things were the routine of running a large hotel.
He stopped at the bar for a quick one and then started for the kitchen.

* * * * *

The day passed pleasantly enough, and he looked forward to retiring to
his quiet rooms upstairs. He thought to get some intelligent answers
from his assistant manager when he walked in promptly at five P. M., but
he turned out to be a university student from Southern Cal, working days
on his master's degree in business administration and nights at the
hotel. No wonder he hadn't been promoted. Not that he wasn't
bright--just not experienced.

Sextus formally offered his hand and introduced himself. The lad said,
"I'm Horace Smith the phone is ringing excuse me." He snatched the phone
with a harried look.

Somehow the phone never stopped ringing. Sextus gave up and retired to
dress for dinner. He finished his fifth of whiskey and descended to the
hotel's swank Oceania Room, where he made himself known to the maitre
d'hotel. That frenzied little moustachioed person sniffed Sextus' breath
and seated him behind a potted palm.

Discreetly avoiding the wine list, Sextus dined well, noting several
movie stars and other vip's in the crowded dining room. He couldn't
escape the illusion that he was dining at the Ambassador or the Waldorf
Astoria--instead of in a five-story rat-trap. Where did they all come
from?

As he awaited the elevator, he was approached by the bell-captain. "Mr.
Forsyte?" Sextus nodded stiffly. "Here's an envelope Mr. Patterson left
for you. He was the last G. M. Incidentally, sorry I was a little rough
on the phone, but you can see our situation here. Understaffed and
overcrowded. It gets thick, real thick, brother."

Sextus felt his belly muscles tighten. "Confusion is never improved by
discourtesy or insubordination," he said coldly.

At that moment a bellman rushed up to the rebuffed captain who was
regarding Sextus with a restrained loathing. "The guy in C332 keeps
screaming for his beer, but the service elevator to 'C' vector keeps