Jubal soaped and dunked himself and refrained from lounging as the warm water invited his tired muscles to do; he wanted to see Ben and find out the score.  Shortly he was checking through what Larry had packed for him and grunted with annoyance to find no summerweight slacks.  He settled for sandals, shorts, and a bright sport shirt, which made him look like a paint-splashed emu and accented his hairy, thinning legs.  But Jubal had ceased worrying about his appearance several decades earlier; it was comfortable and it would do, at least until he needed to go out on the Street... or into court.  Did the bar association here have reciprocity with Pennsylvania?  He couldn't recall.  Well, it was always possible to act with another attorney-of-record.