Don Channing looked up at the indicator panel in his office and frowned in puzzlement. He punched a buzzer and spoke into the communicator on his desk.
"Find out who that is, will you, Arden?"
"He isn't expected," came back the voice of Arden Westland.
"I know that. But I've been expecting someone ever since John Walters retired last week. You know why."
"You hope to get his job," said the girl in an amused voice. "I hope you do. So that someone else will sit around all day trying to make you retire so that he can have your job!"
"Now look, Arden, I've never tried to make Walters retire."
"No, but when the word came that he was thinking of it, you began to think about taking over. Don't worry, I don't blame you." There was quite a protracted silence, and then her voice returned. "The visitor is a gentleman by the name of Francis Burbank. He came out in a flitter with a chauffeur and all."
"Big shot, hey?"
"Take it easy. He's coming up the office now."
"I gather that he desires audience with me?" asked Don.