Thick mud held him while terror ravened at his heels.
Johnny groaned. Instinctively, he knew the name would stick.
"Hear you had a little trouble with the gal-friend this past p.m.," Harry Bettis clucked in a voice which managed to be both derisive and sympathetic.
"How did you find out?" Johnny asked, but knew the answer at once. Jo-Anne was a roommate of one of the Bureau Secretaries. It was how Johnny had met her.
"You know how I found out, Snowman. Well, that's tough luck, kiddo. But tell me, does that mean the field is wide open? I always thought your gal-friend—your ex-gal-friend—had the cutest pair of—"
"I have nothing to do with whether the field is open or not open, I'm afraid."
"Well, don't be. Afraid, I mean," Harry Bettis advised jovially. "If the gal could make you pull a boner like that, you're better off without her. But I forgot to ask Maxine: can I have little Jo-Anne's phone number? Huh, boy?"
Before Johnny could answer, the three-girl staff of secretaries entered the small office. Entered—and stared.
"That's all right, girls," Harry Bettis said. "You didn't have to follow me in here. I'd have been right out."
But they weren't staring at Harry Bettis. They were staring at Johnny. Their mouths had flapped open, their eyes were big and round. Johnny didn't, but Harry Bettis knew that look on a girl's face. Without any trouble at all, Johnny could have made any of those girls, right there, right then, without even trying.