Barlow made a wry face. "I'll help you," he repeated, and wondered why he so instantly rejected Valnar's suggestion.
Valnar shrugged. "Oh, all right. If you insist. But she sure lit out of here in a hurry. Where was she headed?"
"She knew I could run faster than she could, and wanted a headstart," Barlow grinned. "She's probably at headquarters now, getting a bunch to help me."
"Let's go to headquarters," said Valnar.
Barlow looked at him sharply, frowning with suspicion. "You promised to help," he reminded.
"Oh, you may be sure that I shall," Valnar assured airily. "Lead on, MacBarlow!"
Barlow grunted and started toward the headquarters that he was never supposed to approach. The organization believed in never establishing a personal trail between the various headquarters, and Barlow was a runner. But he considered that the circumstances warranted disobedience.
"Your education was evidently quite sketchy," he grumbled as he led the way. "Dodson didn't give you your money's worth."
Two blocks from headquarters, Barlow halted suddenly. He was staring at two patrol wagons drawn up in front of the suspiciously unimpressive building that the organization used.