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“But that’s not fair!”
He wasn’t sure why, but he was feeling rather smug at the moment. “No. Neither are lotteries or beauty pageants, but we have them anyway.”
She shook her head. “There’s got to be something.” A note of desperation was edging her tone.
He turned from her and gestured toward a dark, old-fashioned-looking machine sitting against the back of the desk. “There’s the old shortwave,” he told her reluctantly. “It’s ancient and it doesn’t work very well. But at least I might be able to get through to the district office in Santa Fe.”
“Okay.” She spread her arms out. “Let’s do it.”
She sat down and watched as he fooled with the controls for what seemed like hours, and finally there was a crackling sound of someone on the line.
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