Bud nudged him. “Hey, pal, that doll behind the counter wants your autograph or something.”
“I’m not sure I like that,” Phyl said, pretending to be jealous.
Tom grinned and squeezed her hand. “Pay no attention to this joker. Be back in a second.”
He walked over to the candy counter.
78 3-D TELEJECTOR
“You are Tom Swift, aren’t you?” the girl said. When Tom nodded, she went on, “Someone at the Swift Construction Company just telephoned the theater and left a message. He wanted you to call their plant switchboard operator as soon as the show was over. He said it was urgent.”
Tom was startled. “Did you get his name?”
“No, I’m sorry, he hung up too quickly.”
“Must be Uncle Ned,” Tom thought. “I wonder what’s up?” Ned Newton, Phyl’s father, was an old chum of Tom Sr.‘s. He now managed the Swift Construction Company, which manufactured the inventions developed at Enterprises.
“You can call from the office,” the girl said.
“Thanks.” Tom entered the room behind the counter and tried to dial the construction company. But the telephone seemed to have gone dead. He returned to Bud and the girls and explained. “Mind waiting a minute? I’ll call from, that booth inside.”
Tom headed for a phone booth situated in a corner area behind the seats.
Minutes went by. The lobby began to empty.
“I’d better go yank genius boy off that phone,” Bud quipped. “When he gets into a scientific powwow, he forgets the time.”
Re-entering the now darkened theater, Bud saw a light glowing in the phone booth. Tom was seated inside, his head leaning against the box. He looked as if he were listening intently.
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