Frump glanced at his list and huddled with the three lke buttons. Then he turned to me.

"We only have five members," he said, "so we're dividing the votes. Four get three votes and one gets two votes. You get two votes."

"Hey," I objected, "That's not fair. We ought to draw lots."

"You're for Morse, aren't you?"

"That's right."

"Then you get two votes."

"What?" I was getting angry. "That is no criterion."

He changed his tone. "We were all signed up before you, so it's only fair. Don't you agree?"

"No," I said, "but you are running this."

"Well," he said, it is fair, and I'm sorry you don't think so."

The chairman of the convention rapped for silence. "I'm happy to announce," he said, "that every state delegation has at least one native delegate . . ."

I tapped Frump. "Say, who here is from Arizona?"

He smiled amiably. "You are." MICHAEL MACCOBY