THE GIANT KNEW Richard Nixon．
Toweribg ,yellow—haired，grizzled，a listing mountain in
khaki twill，he limped closer,and Milo tightened up．I looked
to Frank Dollard for a cue．Dollard appeared untroubled，
meaty arms at his sides，mouth serene under the tobaccoeJ
gray mustache．His eyes were slits，but they d been that way at
the—main gate.
The—giant belched out a bass laugh and brushed greasy hair
away from his eyes．His beard was a corn—colored ruin．I could
smell him now,vinegarish，hormonaUy charged．He had to be
six-eight，three hundred．The shadow he threw on the dirt was
ash—colored，amoebic，broad enough to shade us．
．He took another lurching step，and this time Frank Dol—
Lard’s right arm shot out．
The huge man didn’t seem to notice．just stood there with
Dollard’s limb flung across his waist．Maybe a dozen other
men in khaki were out on the yard，most of them standing
still,a few others pacing，rocking，faces pressed against the
chain link.No groups that I could see；everyone to himself．
Above them，the sky was an untrammeled blue，clouds broiled
away by a vengeful sun．1 was cooking in my suit．
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