The other wage-slaves rose with assorted sighs, looking forward to the week-end. Doak dialed June's number.
His outside screen lighted up and there she was, her hair in curlers but luscious as a peach. "Hi," she said. And then frowned at the seriousness of his smile.
"Look, June," he said, "I—I've got to go out of town."
"I'll bet," she said.
"So help me, kid, it's...." Well, he couldn't say what it was. "I'll phone you, though, as soon—"
His screen went blank. He dialed again, and again. The screen stayed blank.
Ryder came out from his office, his hat on, looking weary. He managed a smile for Doak. "You'd better get to the cashier before he closes, if you haven't already."
"Yes, sir," Doak said. "Dubbinville, wasn't it?"
"Dubbinville," Ryder said. "My old Wisconsin home. You'll find it beautiful this time of the year. You'll love it, Doak."