Word: wads
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...Giles dropped into a local movie to stare critically at a film entitled The Suspect. Cook wandered out to a tailor shop. But police and FBI men spotted their stolen automobile parked at the curb. They stopped Cook with leveled Tommy guns, relieved him of a bag containing a wad of stolen currency and four stolen pistols. He was apparently too annoyed to say a word. But Giles seemed well rehearsed. When two policemen cornered him in the movie, he grated in the best Dick Tracy manner: "All right, coppers...
...star player got a front tooth kicked out in the last quarter of a tight game. The nerve was exposed and quivering, but the player begged Alex to keep him in the game. Alex finally gave in, took a wad of chewing gum from his own mouth and plastered the jumping nerve. The player finished the game, with third-stringers furiously chewing gum on the sidelines, at Alex's order, to keep the star supplied with packing...
...many thicknesses of non descript clothes as he can lay hands on, makes himself look like a ready-made butt for jokes. At first the G.I.s plagued the funny-looking little man unmercifully, "scrounging" (i.e., swiping) his blankets and water, knocking off his helmet to reveal the wad of toilet paper always kept there, ridiculing his passion for orderliness and his perpetual puttering, pouncing on him in howling droves when he modestly retired behind a bush to relieve himself. Then the letters from home began to arrive, mentioning the Pyle column or enclosing clippings of it. Slowly it dawned...
Last week another automobile bearing Amerigo Dumini raced across Italy. The murderer of Matteoti was trying to escape the blackshirt roundup of the Badoglio Government. In his car were forged passports, a wad of currency and his mistress. But he did not reach the Swiss frontier. One story said that the carabinieri captured Dumini after a fierce gun fight. Another had him stopped by a barricade on the highway. All stories agreed that he was betrayed by a discarded mistress...
...unruffled and competent reporter stands on the deck, at the airport, at the Secretary's elbow, with his pencil working on the wad of copy paper, his sharp eye on the crowd, on the building about to fall, on the halfback faking and spinning. The good correspondent goes overside with the troops, crawls up the ridge to the command post, cajoles himself into the bomber, bums a ride in the General's jeep. The photographer is there with his tripod, his fast-action film; he is there with a cloud filter for the dogfight in the stratosphere; there...