"How come you remembered the number?" he greeted Colborn. "Did the elevator doors close on you?"
"Very-funny-ha-ha!" retorted Colborn. "Look, Joe—have you got power?"
Westervelt peered closer, thinking that the redhead looked unusually concerned. Rosenkrantz seemed not to have noticed.
"Power?" he said. "Have I got power! I can pull in stations you never heard of, just on willpower! You—you poor slob—you don't even remember if you're on your way home or coming to work! What is it now?"
"I'll tell you what it is," shouted Colborn. "It's a power failure! They don't even have any lights out in the street. I nearly got trampled to death getting back in the lobby to phone you."
Westervelt and Rosenkrantz looked at each other.
"Come to think of it, Charlie," said the operator, "the lights did blink a minute ago. I wonder if that was our own power taking over for the whole floor?"
They saw Colborn turn his head, and heard him expostulating with someone who plainly was impatient to get into the phone cubicle.
"I'll go check the meters," said Rosenkrantz. "Watch the space set for me, Willie!"
"Whuh-wh-wha?" stuttered Westervelt, groping after him. "Charlie! He went away! What do I do if a call comes in?"