“I haven’t,” he admitted. “I suppose Ronjan intends to wait me out. Why not?” Farnsworth gave an annoyed laugh. “He has my money all tied up.”
“Our money,” Cranston reminded.
“I know,” nodded Farnsworth. “Well, throwing good after bad is a wrong policy, but by next week, I’ll be doing it. I don’t know how you feel, Cranston, but -”
A servant arrived to explain a ringing telephone that Cranston had been hearing. The call was for Cranston, so he went into the apartment to take it. Farnsworth called after him:
“Invite Miss Lane up here if she’d like to come.”
The call wasn’t from Margo. Instead, Phil Harley was on the wire and he was very earnest, with a trace of tension in his voice.
“You spoke about phony jobs, Mr. Cranston,” stated Phil across the wire, “and the people who take them. What about the people who hand them out - would you like to know who they are?”
“It would be very interesting.”
“Then talk to yourself,” announced Phil, “unless you’d rather have me tell Miss Lane that you hired a certain girl for a rather useless task.”
“You haven’t called Miss Lane, have you?”