"Thank you," Maxwell said.

"There are those who seem to think," said Oop, "that Homo sapiens neanderthalensis can be nothing other than a stupid brute. After all, he became extinct, he couldn't hold his own-which in itself is prime evidence that he was very second-rate. I'm afraid that I'll continue to devote my life to proving-"

The waiter appeared at Oop's elbow. "It's you again " he said. "I might have known when you yelled at me. You have no breeding, Oop."

"We have a man here," Oop told him, ignoring the insult, "who has come back from the dead. I think it would be fitting that we should celebrate his resurrection with a flourish of good fellowship."

"You want something to drink, I take it." "Why," said Oop, "don't you simply bring a bottle of good booze, a bucket of ice and four-no, three glasses. Ghost doesn't drink, you know."

"I know," the waiter said.

"That is," said Oop, "unless Miss Hampton wants one of these fancy drinks?"

"Who am I," asked Carol, "to gum up the works? What is it you are drinking?"

"Bourbon," said Oop. "Pete and I have a lousy taste in liquor."

"Bourbon let it be," said Carol.

"I take it," said the waiter, "that when I lug the bottle over here, you'll have the cash to pay for it. I remember the time-"

"Whatever I may lack," said Oop, "will be forthcoming from Old Pete."

"Pete?" the waiter glanced at Maxwell. "Professor!" he exclaimed. "I had heard that you..."

"That's what I been trying to tell you," said Oop. "That's what we're celebrating. He came back from the dead."

"But I don't understand."

"You don't need to," said Oop. "Just rustle up the booze."

The waiter scurried off.

"And now," said Ghost to Maxwell, "please tell us what you are. You are no ghost, apparently, or if you are, there's been a vast improvement in procedure since the man I represent shuffled off his mortal coil."