“Who is it?” Joe called.
His mother met him in the hall. “That Carver person.”
Joe thought: “What can he want?” He went to the telephone.
Amby’s voice was briskly, softly effusive. “Still stringing along with Wylie, Joe?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I didn’t know. After to-day’s sponsor trouble—”
“What trouble? Mr. Wylie sold the Munson show.”
“I know that, but—didn’t you hear about Mrs. Munson? You haven’t heard?” The agent made a clucking sound. “I’m sorry I have to be the one to break the bad news, Joe; Wylie should have told you. You’re sure you didn’t hear anything about Mrs. Munson’s nephew? The actor?”
Joe’s hand gripped the telephone.
“A favorite nephew. You know how some women go daffy over a favorite nephew? This kid plays with an amateur group at Baltimore. Mrs. Munson thinks he’s tops.”