"The next time you want in," Joe informed him, "knock on 902 twice, 914 once, and then here four times. We'll let you in. And now, don't say anything too loud." Joe put a finger to his lips and winked broadly. "Even the walls listen," he said in a stage whisper.
He led Channing into the room and put on the light. There was a flurry of people who tried to hide their glasses under the table. "Never mind," called Joe. "It's only Dr. Channing."
The room relaxed.
"I want something stiff," Channing told Joe. "I've just gone three rounds with His Nibs and came out cold."
Some people within earshot asked about it. Channing explained what had transpired. The people seemed satisfied that Channing had done his best for them. The room relaxed into routine.
The signal knock came on the door and was opened to admit Walt Franks and Arden Westland. Franks looked as though he had been given a stiff workout in a cement mixer.
"Scotch," said Arden. "And a glass of brew for the lady."
"What happened to him?"
"He's been trying to keep to Burbank's latest suggestions."
"You've been working too hard," Channing chided him gently. "This is the wrong time to mention it, I suppose, but did that beam slippage have anything to do with your condition—or was it vice versa?"