Joe bought a second copy and nodded back toward the FKIP Building. “Show business?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Yes.”
“A newcomer?”
“Not exactly.”
“I don’t remember having seen him before. Who is he?”
Archie Munn’s deep voice was level and dry. “Sonny Baker. Amby rushed him back from the coast. He got in this morning.”
CHAPTER 9
Monday Joe Carlin kept away from the world of radio. Sonny Baker was shooting at the Larry Logan part he had expected to play and at the Dick Davis part he had been playing—and he was licked. Licked by a little bug that had invaded his throat. His voice was still a whisper. To-day, either at Vic Wylie’s office or at Tony Vaux’s office, he’d have felt like a Pop Bartell, wistfully hoping for a miracle. Old Pop, pathetically youthful and gallant, at least had something to give a microphone. He, with his voice gone, would have absolutely nothing. He wouldn’t even have a front.
And so Joe Carlin, who up to last week had been an actor in the bright world of radio, raked the yard and tried not to think that to-day Tony Vaux was scheduled to sponsor-audition the Bush-League Larry show and that this morning Vic Wylie had held another dress of the Sue Davis Against the World show at FKIP. Toward noon the telephone rang inside the house. His hands gripped the rake. Tony had said he’d call if— A minute passed. Joe began to rake again.
He gave up trying not to think. Why should Tony have shied away from his offer to come in to-day unless the Everts-Hall Agency producer had known Sonny was on his way? Vic Wylie, brooding over a platter, must have vetoed a suggestion that Mrs. Munson’s Baltimore nephew step into the Sue Davis cast. But Vic had not known that Sonny was back in town. Joe was sure of that.