l-labels."
Larry didn't follow that, but he had no time to go further now. He said,
still evenly soft, "And when is the Movement going to do this?"
La Verne moved comfortably. "The trucks go out to distribute the money
tonight. The rockets are waiting. The firing will take place in a few
days."
"And where is the Professor now?"
"Where the money and the trucks are hidden, darling. What difference does
it make?" LaVerne said sleepily.
"And where is that?"
"At the Greater Washington Trucking Corporation. It's owned by one of the
Movement's members."
He said. "There's a password. What is it?"
"Judgment."
Larry Woolford bounced to his feet. He looked down at her, then over at
the phone. In three quick steps he was over to it. He grasped its wires
and yanked them from the wall, silencing it. He slipped into the tiny
elevator, locking the door to the den behind him.
As the door slid closed, her voice wailed, still sleepily husky, "Larry,
darling, where are you--"
He ran down the walk of the house, vaulted into the car and snapped on its
key. He slammed down the lift lever, kicked the thrust pedal and was
thrown back against the seat by the acceleration.
Even while he was climbing, he flicked on the radio-phone, called Personal
Service for the location of the Greater Washington Trucking Corporation.
Fifteen minutes later, he parked a block away from his destination, noting
with satisfaction that it was still an hour or more to go until dark. His
intuition, working doubletime now, told him that they'd probably wait
until nightfall to start their money-laden trucks to rolling.
He hesitated momentarily before turning on the phone and dialing the Boss'
home address.
When the other's face faded in, it failed to display pleasure when the
caller's identity was established. His superior growled, "Confound it,
Woolford, you know my privacy is to be respected. This phone is to be used
only in extreme emergency."
"Yes, sir," Larry said briskly. "It's the Movement--"
The other's face darkened still further. "You're not on that assignment
any longer, Woolford. Walter Foster has taken over and I'm sympathetic to
his complaints that you've proven more a hindrance than anything else."
Larry ignored his words, "Sir, I've tracked them down. Professor Voss is
at the Greater Washington Trucking Corporation garages here in the
Alexandria section of town. Any moment now, they're going to start
distribution of
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