"How do I stick with you?" "No Bacon on the payroll. Sachs stays. If Bacon wants to direct TV leave him do it at somebody else's expense. Not on my budget. Okay?" Lennox swallowed. "Hurry up, Jake. Here comes Bleutcher. Is it a deal? For the good of the show you vote with me. We're satisfied with how the show's going. We want to keep everything exactly the way it always was. Yes?" "Yes, by God!" Lennox said. "Yes." Bleutcher lumbered up to the table and sat down. "Mr. Audibon has been trying to reach me at the Brockton office," he explained. Grabinett started. "What for?" "I have not been advised as yet. His office called four times." "Did you call him back, Mr. Bleutcher?" "He's been out to lunch for two hours." Bleutcher compressed his lips. "It is most inadvisable for a business man to clog his digestive system with heavy foods during the working day. My staff has standing orders to restrict the midday meal to greens and roughage. Our plant cafeteria...." Bleutcher lectured on fats, proteins and carbohydrates until Olga returned to the table. Grabinett paid the check with nervous haste and the luncheon party broke up. "We'll see you at the show Sunday, Mr. Bleutcher?" he blinked. Bleutcher nodded ponderously. "Just leave word for Olga," Miss Bleutcher whispered. Lennox nodded absently. In the lobby of The Brompton House, Grabinett darted to a phone booth and called the network. Audibon had not yet returned from lunch. Grabinett came out of the booth, blinking anxiously. "He's been trying to get me all morning too. What the Almighty mischief is he up to? What a business! Come on, Jake. Let's take care of Bacon first." Avery Borden's office had the quality of a court room. His high-backed desk chair looked like a judge's bench. Against one wall was a line of mahogany armchairs that looked like a jury box. When they entered, Bacon was sprawled on two of the chairs, confiding a thief-type revelation to Borden who was leaning against a window, glasses in hand, fascinated. Lennox and Grabinett sat down quietly and waited. No matter how savage warfare may be on The Rock, there is one sacred law that is never broken. No man ever kills the point of another man's story. When it was over and Borden had reacted satisfactorily, Bacon stood up and began to swagger back and forth across the office. He preferred to sit when other men were standing, and to stand when other men were sitting. Borden obligingly seated himself behind the desk. "Now we're all here to read the up-state returns," Bacon drawled. "The show isn't sick yet, but when you pull out the thermometer any interne can read the temperature. It hasn't broken a hundred, but it will if we don't yank the substitutes and send in the regulars." Borden's phone buzzed. He picked it up, murmured for a minute, put it down and apologized.