National Affairs: Out of Nowhere

At 7 o'clock one evening last week the attendant on duty at the De Luxe Auto Court just outside Cheyenne, Wyo. jumped slightly. John L. Lewis had just driven up at the wheel of a long, black, shiny Cadillac limousine. The bushybrowed U.M.W. chieftain lumbered out like Ivan the Terrible advancing on a peasant maiden from Omsk. He wanted a cabin. There was only one, the attendant said—a double one. Lewis turned a cold eye first on the cabin, then on the attendant. How much? Eight dollars.

After a long moment John L. fished out a $10 bill, got his change,...

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