“Not yet.”
“Then you should,” suggested Cranston. “Unless you’d prefer to give me more details first.”
“As if you didn’t know,” snapped Phil. “All right, the girl’s name is Arlene Forster. She’s getting paid for checking coastal charts, only she’s seen less of them than I have seen of patent papers.”
“I’m beginning to think that Margo really would be interested.”
“A nice bluff,” complimented Phil. “I guess you figure you have that old fool fixed.”
“I wouldn’t call him a fool.”
“I’ll find out if he is,” retorted Phil. “I’m going up to see Niles Ronjan right now!”
The receiver clanked heartily at the other end and Cranston stepped away from the phone with a shrug, to meet Farnsworth, who had just come indoors.
“Miss Lane is coming up here, Cranston?”
“I hope not,” replied Cranston. “Some smart dealer wants to sell her a mink coat cheap because it’s summer. But a mink coat is never cheap. I said I wouldn’t call him a fool for trying to make the sale, but I meant it differently than he took it.”