Tom Carlin spoke in an undertone. “Why did you want me to sign?”
“You saw Joe’s face?” Kate Carlin was quiet. “He won’t wake up to-morrow thinking we hanged him.”
“A successful agent couldn’t waste time with buses. He’d have a car.”
“Carver hasn’t fooled me, even though he’s dazzled Joe.”
“But if he’s a bag of wind—”
“It’s a short contract. When it terminates, Joe will still be Joe. Is anything more important than that?”
Flushed and jubilant, Joe returned from the porch. “Thank you, Dad.” Half-way up the stairs he paused. “Amby wants me to report at his office at ten to-morrow for a rehearsal.”
“Where is his office?” Mr. Carlin asked.
“McCoy Building.” Upstairs a door closed.
“One of the old, run-down rat-trap buildings,” the man said slowly.