He looked about genially.
"I see you've told the news," he commented. "It was a lift for me too. We haven't done too badly, after all. Won two, lost one—damn!—and one is still a stalemate."
"Anyone tell Bob?" asked Parrish quietly.
They all exchanged searching glances. Smith began to lose some of his ebullience. After a moment, he turned to Pauline.
"Buzz his office!" he said in a preoccupied tone.
Westervelt tried to subdue a mild chill along the backbone as Pauline gave Smith a wide-eyed look and slipped into her cubbyhole.
He couldn't have phoned downstairs, he reassured himself. Pauline would say all the lines were busy, or cut off or something. But what if he looked out a window?
Smith had sauntered over to the center desk, where he waited beside the phone. It seemed to be taking Pauline a long time.
"Check with Joe," advised Parrish. "Then try around the other rooms. Ten to one he's in the lab."
"Has anyone seen him in the last half hour?" asked Smith.