"Yes, but why did Pelton beat Bayne up?"

"Bayne made a pass at Miss Claire. I wasn't there when it happened;
she came into the office--"

Cardon felt his face tighten into a frown of perplexity. That wasn't
like Literate First Class Stephen S. Bayne. He made quite a hobby of
pinching salesgirls behind the counter which was one thing; the boss'
daughter was quite another.

"Where's Latterman?" he asked, looking around.

"Down in the office, with the others, trying to help Mr. Pelton. He's
had another of those heart attacks--"

Cardon swore and ran for the descending escalator, running down the
rotating spiral to the executive floor and jumping off into the
gawking mob of Illiterate clerks crowded in the open doors of Pelton's
office. He hit and shoved and elbowed and cursed them out of the way,
and burst into the big room beyond, and then, for a moment, he was
almost sorry he had come.

Pelton was slumped in his big relaxer chair, his face pale and twisted
in pain, his breath coming in feeble gasps. His daughter was beside
him, her blond head bent over him; Russell Latterman was standing to
one side, watching intently. For an instant, Cardon was reminded of a
tomcat watching a promising mouse hole.

"Claire!" Cardon exploded, "give him a nitrocaine bulb. Why are you
all just standing around?"