Endowment Policy
A futuristic old man asks the taxi dispatcher specifically for Denny Holt’s cab. When
the man gets in the cab, he offers Denny $1000 to protect him from pursuit for just one
night and to steal a brown notebook with a secret formula from the War Department.
Now, shielding the bills with his body, he took them out for a closer examination. They
looked all right. They weren’t counterfeit; the serial numbers were O.K.; and they had
the same odd musty smell Holt had noticed before.
“You must have been hoarding
these,” he hazarded.
Smith said absently, “They’ve been on exhibit for sixty
years—” He caught himself and drank rye.