diff options
Diffstat (limited to '44351-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 44351-0.txt | 5590 |
1 files changed, 5590 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/44351-0.txt b/44351-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4926a5f --- /dev/null +++ b/44351-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5590 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44351 *** + + Agent Nine + Solves + His First Case + + + _By_ + Graham M. Dean + + ★ + + _A Story of the Daring Exploits + of the “G” Men_ + + + The + Goldsmith Publishing Company + CHICAGO + + + Copyright mcmxxxv By + The Goldsmith Publishing Company + MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + + CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. A SURPRISE CALL 15 + II. AN EMPTY ROOM 21 + III. BOB HAS A VISITOR 27 + IV. THE DOOR MOVES 33 + V. A SLIVER OF STEEL 41 + VI. IN THE DARKENED ROOM 50 + VII. SIRENS IN THE NIGHT 58 + VIII. THE PAPER VANISHES 67 + IX. SUSPICIONS 74 + X. ON THE LEDGE 79 + XI. STRAINED TEMPERS 87 + XII. STEPS IN THE HALL 97 + XIII. BOB FIGHTS BACK 104 + XIV. SPECIAL AGENT NINE 112 + XV. A REAL JOB AHEAD 122 + XVI. IN BOB’S ROOM 130 + XVII. THE RADIO SECRET 140 + XVIII. MEAGER HOPES 147 + XIX. THE MISSING PAPER 156 + XX. ON A LONELY STREET 165 + XXI. SHOTS IN THE NIGHT 173 + XXII. THE LONE STRUGGLE 180 + XXIII. ANXIOUS HOURS 187 + XXIV. A SOLITARY HAND 194 + XXV. THE FIRST CLUE 202 + XXVI. A BREAK FOR BOB 211 + XXVII. ACTION AHEAD 216 + XXVIII. WASTE PAPER 224 + XXIX. INTO THE AIR 230 + XXX. ON THE EAST SHORE 234 + XXXI. THE CHASE ENDS 241 + XXXII. “FEDERAL AGENT” 249 + + + + + AGENT NINE + SOLVES HIS FIRST CASE + + + ★ + + + + + Chapter I + A SURPRISE CALL + ★ + + +Bob Houston, youthful clerk in the archives division of the War +Department, drew his topcoat closer about him and shivered as he stepped +out of the shelter of the apartment house entrance and faced the chill +fall rain. + +Going back to the office after a full day bent over a desk was no fun, +but a job was a job, and Bob was thankful for even the small place he +filled in the great machine of government. + +The raw, beating rain swept into his face as he strode down the avenue. A +cruising taxicab, hoping for a passenger, pulled along the curb, but Bob +waved the vehicle away. Just then he had no extra funds to invest in taxi +fare. + +The avenue was deserted and Bob doubted if there would be many at work in +the huge building where the archives division was sheltered. + +At the end of a fifteen-minute walk Bob turned in at the entrance of a +hulking gray structure. The night guard nodded as he recognized Bob and +the clerk stepped through the doorway. + +Bob paused in the warmth of the lobby and shook the water from his coat +and hat. Fortunately he had worn rubbers so his feet were dry and he felt +there was little chance of his catching cold. + +The door behind him opened and a blast of raw air swirled into the lobby. + +Bob turned quickly; then hurried to greet the newcomer. + +“Hello Uncle Merritt,” he cried. “I didn’t expect to run into you down +here tonight.” + +Merritt Hughes, one of the crack agents of the Department of Justice, +smiled as he shook the rain from his hat. + +“I was driving home when I caught a glimpse of you coming in here. +Working tonight?” + +“I’ve got at least two hours of work ahead of me,” replied Bob. + +“Anyone else going to be with you?” inquired his uncle. + +“No, I’m alone.” + +“Good. I want to talk with you where there is no chance that we may be +overheard.” + +Bob was tempted to ask what it was all about, but he knew that in good +time his uncle would tell him. + +They stepped into an automatic elevator and Bob pressed the control +button. + +There was a distinct resemblance between uncle and nephew. Merritt Hughes +looked as though he might be Bob’s older brother. He was well built, +about five feet eight inches tall, and usually tipped the scales at 160 +pounds, but there was no fat on his well conditioned body. His hair was a +dull brown, but the keenness of his eyes made up for whatever coloring +was lacking in his hair. + +Bob was taller than his uncle and would outweigh him ten pounds. His hair +was light and his pleasant blue eyes were alert to everything that was +going on. Both had rather large and definite noses, and Bob often chided +his uncle on that family trait. + +The elevator stopped at the top floor and they stepped out. Another guard +stopped them and Bob was forced to present his identification card. The +small golden badge which his uncle displayed was sufficient to gain his +admittance. + +Bob’s desk was in one wing of the archives division and they made their +way there without loss of time. Bob took his uncle’s topcoat and hung it +beside his own. When he turned back to his desk, his uncle was seated on +the other side, leaning back comfortably in a swivel chair. + +“Still have the idea you’d like to join the bureau of investigation of +the Department of Justice?” asked Merritt Hughes. The question was +casual, almost offhand, and Bob wasn’t sure that he had heard correctly. + +“You’re kidding me now,” he grinned. “You know I’d like to get in the +service, but I haven’t a chance. Why, I’m not through with my college +work, and they’re only taking graduates now.” + +“I’m not kidding, Bob; I’m serious. I think there may be a chance for you +to get in. Of course you’d have to finish your college work after you +were in the department, but that wouldn’t be too much of a handicap.” + +“I’ll say it wouldn’t,” exulted Bob. “Now tell me what it’s all about. +The last time I talked to you about getting in, you gave me about as much +encouragement as though I was suggesting a swim across the Atlantic +ocean.” + +Merritt Hughes was a long time in answering, and when he finally spoke +his voice was so low that anyone ten feet away would have been unable to +hear his words. + +“There’s trouble and big trouble brewing right in this department,” he +said. “We don’t know just exactly what is going to happen, but we must be +prepared for any emergency.” + +Bob started to speak, but his uncle waved the words aside and went on. + +“We could plant an agent here, but that might be too obvious. What we +need is someone on the inside whom we can trust fully.” + +Bob, teetering on the edge of his chair, breathlessly waited for the next +words. + +“I’m counting on you to be the key in the intrigue that’s going on right +now in this building,” said Merritt Hughes. “What about it?” + +“You know you can rely on me,” said Bob. “Why, I’d do almost anything, +take almost any risk to get into the bureau of investigation of the +Department of Justice.” + +“I know you would, Bob, but that isn’t going to be necessary. All I want +is someone who will keep his eyes open, listen to everything that is said +around here, and report to me each night in detail. You know I wouldn’t +want you butting into something where you might get hurt.” + +“But I’m young and husky. I can take care of myself,” protested Bob, his +eyes reflecting his eagerness. + +“Sure, I know you can, but after all I’ve got to look out for you. Your +mother would never forgive me if any actual harm came to you while you +were doing a little sleuthing for me.” + +There was a tender note in the voice of the agent, for it had devolved +upon him to watch over Bob and his mother after the death of his sister’s +husband some six years before. He had been faithful to the trust and he +had no intention now of placing Bob in any situation where there would be +real jeopardy to his life. + +“Go on, go on,” urged Bob. “Tell me what I’m to watch for and what you +suspect.” + +Instead of answering Merritt Hughes stepped to the door, opened it, made +a careful survey of the hall, and then drew his chair closer to Bob. + + + + + Chapter II + AN EMPTY ROOM + ★ + + +“What do you know about the new radio developments which have been made +recently by the War Department?” he asked. + +Bob’s surprise was reflected in the look which flashed across his face. +There had been only the vaguest of rumors that startling radio +advancements had been made by War Department engineers. It had been only +thin talk in the department. The clerks mentioning it on several +occasions when they had been alone. + +“I’ve heard some talk that rather surprising advancements have been +made,” said Bob, “but there has been nothing definite known. Of course, +some of the clerks have been talking about it.” + +“But no one has any definite information. As far as you know, the plans +have not been filed in the vaults,” Merritt Hughes was pressing hard for +an answer, but Bob could only shake his head. + +“This division handles most of the radio data,” he said, “but nothing new +has been placed in the vaults here for weeks. I’m simply cleaning up +routine stuff.” + +“If new plans and data were filed, you might handle them,” persisted his +uncle. + +“That’s quite likely, but I wouldn’t know the contents. Everything comes +in under seal and with a key number and only the engineers know the key +and the contents of the sealed package.” + +“Still, you might have a hunch when the papers are important?” + +“I might. There is always talk in the department. But I would have no way +of actually knowing what was going through my hands.” + +“I was afraid of that,” admitted his uncle. “It makes things all the +harder. If you only knew when the plans were going through you would be +in a position to use every precaution.” + +“But I don’t take any chances now,” retorted Bob. “Extreme care is used +with every single batch of plans that are sent over by the engineers.” + +“Oh, I didn’t mean that you were careless, Bob,” smiled the Department of +Justice agent. “I only meant that if you knew when radio secrets were +going through you could use additional care and set up extra +precautions.” + +“You must be afraid something is going to be stolen.” + +“That’s exactly what is troubling me,” confessed his uncle, “and I’m +afraid that unknowingly you may be involved. I don’t want you to get +caught in a trap if I can help it. That’s why I stopped here tonight. I +wanted to have this talk with you, to warn you that there have been +important discoveries by the engineers and that they may be through in a +few days. From now on watch every single document that is sent through +your hands. Don’t let it out of your sight from the moment it is +delivered to you until you have filed it and placed it properly in the +vaults. Understand?” + +Bob, his face grave, nodded. “I’ll see that nothing like that happens. +But who could be after these new plans?” + +Merritt Hughes shrugged his shoulders. + +“Bob, if I could answer that question this problem would be comparatively +simple. The answer may be right here in this department; again it may be +some outside force that we can only guess at.” + +“Are you working alone on this case?” Bob continued. + +A shadow of a frown passed over Merritt Hughes’ face. + +“I wish I were; I’d feel more sure of my ground.” + +“That means Condon Adams is also on the job,” put in Bob, for he knew of +the sharp feeling between his uncle and Adams, another ace operative of +the bureau of investigation. They had been together on several cases and +at every opportunity Adams had tried to obtain all of the credit for the +successful outcome of their efforts. He was both unpleasant and ruthless, +but he had a faculty of getting results, and Bob knew that for this +reason alone he was able to retain his position. + +The fact that Condon Adams was on the case placed a different light on it +for Bob, for Adams had a nephew, Tully Ross, who was in the archives +division of the department with Bob. There was nothing in common between +the two young men. Tully was short of stature, with a thick chest and +short, powerful arms. His eyebrows were dark and heavy, set close above +his rather small eyes, and his whole face reflected an innate cruelty +that Bob knew must exist. If Condon Adams was also on the case, it meant +that Tully Ross would be doing his best to help his uncle for like Bob, +Tully was intent upon getting into the bureau of investigation. + +Bob’s lips snapped into a thin, firm line. All right, if that was the way +it was to be, he’d see that Tully had a good fight. + +Merritt Hughes smiled a little grimly. + +“Thinking about Tully Ross?” he asked. + +Bob nodded. + +“Then you know what we’re up against. It’s two against two and if you and +I win I’m sure that I can get you into the bureau. If we don’t, then +Tully may go up. What do you say?” + +“I say that we’re going to win,” replied Bob, and there was stern +determination in his words. + +“That’s the way to feel. Keep up that kind of spirit and you’ll get in +the bureau before you know it. In the meantime, don’t let any tricks get +away from you in this routine. Watch every document that comes into your +hands and let me know at the slightest unusual happening in this +division.” + +“I’ll even put eyes in the back of my head,” grinned Bob as his uncle +stood up and donned his topcoat. + +“How long will you work tonight?” asked Merritt Hughes as he opened the +door which gave access to the hallway. + +“Probably two hours; maybe even three.” + +“Watch yourself. Goodnight.” + +Then he was gone and Bob was alone in the high-vaulted room where the +rays from the light on his desk failed to penetrate into the deep shadows +and a strange feeling of premonition crept over him. For a moment he felt +that someone was watching him and to dispel this feeling he turned on the +glaring top lights. + +The room was empty! + + + + + Chapter III + BOB HAS A VISITOR + ★ + + +Bob turned off the top lights and returned to his desk, which was one of +half a dozen in the long and rather narrow room at one corner of the +building. + +As he sat down he could hear the beat of the rain against the window and +looking out could see, through the curtain of water, the dimmed lights of +the sprawling city. On a clear night the view was awe-inspiring, but on +this night his only thought was to complete his work and to return to the +warmth and comfort of his own room. + +Bob delved into the pile of papers which had accumulated in the wire +basket on his desk. They must be filed and the proper notations made. +There was nothing of especial importance, or he would not have been +working alone for it was a rule of the division that when documents of +great importance were to be filed, at least two clerks and usually the +chief of the division must be on hand. Sometimes even armed guards came +in while the filing was taking place for some of the secrets in the great +vaults across the corridor were worth millions to unscrupulous men and to +other powers. + +But until tonight, until his uncle’s words had aroused him, Bob had felt +his own work was rather commonplace. There was nothing in his life which +compared with the excitement and the almost daily daring of the men in +the bureau of investigation of the Department of Justice. + +The hours were rather long, the work was routine and his companions, +though pleasant, were satisfied with their own careers. They were not +looking ahead and dreaming of the day when they might wear one of the +little badges which identified a Department of Justice agent. + +Then Bob realized that he must stop his day dreaming. Or was it day +dreaming after all? His uncle had said that there was now a possibility +that he might join the department. But this was no time to ponder about +that. He could think of his future when he returned to his room. + +Bob went to a filing case which was along the inside wall of the room and +extracted a folder. Taking it back to his desk he started making entries +of the papers which were on his desk. He worked slowly but thoroughly, +and his handwriting was clear and definite. + +Others might be faster than Bob in the filing work in the division, but +there were none more accurate and when his work was done the chief of the +division always knew that the task was well cared for. + +Bob worked for more than an hour, stopping only once or twice to +straighten up in his chair, for it was tiring work going back to the desk +after a full day of the same type of work. + +When the file was complete, he returned it to the case along the wall and +sorted the papers which remained on his desk. They belonged in four +different files and he drew these from the cases and placed them in a row +atop his desk. + +The air in the room seemed stuffy and Bob walked to one of the windows +and opened it several inches—just enough to let in fresh air, yet not far +enough for the sharp wind to blow rain into the room. Far below him a car +horn shrieked as an unwary pedestrian tried to beat a stop light. + +Bob went back to his desk. Another hour and his work would be done. He +picked up his pen and resumed the task. + +Bob later recalled that he had heard a clock boom out the hour of nine +and it must have been nearly half an hour later when the door which led +to the corridor opened quietly and a man stepped inside. + +The young clerk, at his desk, was so intent upon his work that he did not +sense there was a newcomer in the room until the visitor was almost +behind him. + +Then Bob swung around with a jerk and recognized Tully Ross. There was a +momentary flare of anger in Bob’s face. + +“Next time you come in, make a little noise,” he snapped. “I thought a +ghost was creeping up on me.” + +“I’m not much of a ghost,” retorted Tully, taking off his topcoat and +shaking it vigorously to get the water off. “I didn’t know you would be +working tonight.” + +“Couldn’t get through this afternoon,” replied Bob, “and so much material +has been coming in lately I was afraid that if I let it go another day +I’d be swamped.” + +“Next time that happens let me know and I’ll give you a hand,” +volunteered Tully as he sat down at his own desk, which was two down from +Bob. + +Bob nearly laughed aloud for the thought of Tully volunteering to help +anyone else was almost fantastic. Each clerk had a special type of filing +and each was not supposed to exchange work with the other. In this way +there was little chance for the others to know what documents were going +through for permanent filing. + +“Thanks, Tully, that’s nice of you,” said Bob, “but I don’t know what the +chief would say.” + +“He’d never need to know,” said Tully swinging around in his chair. + +“But if he did find out that we were helping each other, we’d both be out +of a job and I can’t afford to take that kind of a risk.” + +“Neither can I right now,” conceded Tully, “but I hope to get into +something better soon. This doesn’t pay enough for a fellow with my +brains and ability.” + +“I’ll admit that it doesn’t pay a whole lot,” replied Bob, “but a fellow +has to eat these days.” + +“Some day I’m going to be over in the Department of Justice,” said Tully +definitely. “It may not be tomorrow or next week, but I’m going to get +there.” + +“I think you will,” agreed Bob. “You’ve got the determination to keep at +it until you do.” What he failed to add was that Tully’s uncle would do +everything in his power to see that Tully got the promotion and it was no +secret that Condon Adams had powerful political connections that might be +helpful in getting Tully into the bureau of investigation. + + + + + Chapter IV + THE DOOR MOVES + ★ + + +Tully was in a talkative mood and at such times he displayed a pleasing +personality. This was one of those times, but to Bob it was more than a +little irritating for he had work to do and every minute passed in +talking with Tully meant additional time at his desk. + +“I’ve had a funny feeling lately that things were tightening up in here,” +said Tully. “Even tonight this room doesn’t feel just right.” + +“It’s the wind and the rain,” said Bob, looking up from his work. “When +the sun is out tomorrow you’ll feel much better.” + +“I don’t know about that. Say, Bob, you haven’t heard of anything special +breaking? Something may be coming over from the engineers that is +unusually important.” + +Bob couldn’t honestly say no, so he made an indefinite answer. + +“There’s always talk,” he said. + +“Sure, I know, but this time it’s different. I’ve heard that the radio +division has made some startling discoveries that more than one foreign +power would give a few millions to have in its possession.” + +“What, for instance?” + +“That’s just it,” confessed Tully. “There’s only vague talk; nothing you +can put your finger on.” + +“I thought they kept that stuff pretty well under cover,” said Bob, who +was determined to feel out Tully and learn just how much the other clerk +knew. It was evident now that Condon Adams had been talking to his +nephew, probably telling him in substance much of what Merritt Hughes had +divulged to Bob earlier in the evening and now Tully was on a fishing +expedition to learn just what Bob knew. Well, two could play that game +and Bob, his head bent over his work, smiled to himself. + +“Well, they never advertise the papers they’re sending over for the +permanent files,” Tully said, “but you know how things get around in the +department. Sometimes we have a pretty good idea what’s going through +even though it is all under seal and in a special code.” + +Bob nodded, for Tully was right. In spite of the secrecy which usually +surrounded the filing of important documents, the clerks often knew what +was going through their hands, for even the walls in Washington seemed to +have eyes and ears and whispers flitted from one department to another in +a mysterious underground manner which was impossible to stop. Sometimes +the conjecture of the clerks was right; again they might all be wrong. +But it was on such talk as this that secrets sometimes slipped away and +into the hands of men and women for whom they had never been intended. + +Bob’s division, which filed all of the radio documents, had enjoyed a +particularly good record. The chief, Arthur Jacobs, had been in charge +since before World War days, and he had used extreme care in the +selection of the personnel. There was yet to come the first major leak +and Bob hoped fervently that it would not happen while he was in the +division. + +Tully puttered around his own desk, shoving papers here and there and +obviously making an effort to appear interested. Once he glanced sharply +at Bob, who was intent on his own work. + +Finally Tully stood up and walked to one of the windows. He gazed out for +several minutes and Bob, glancing up at him, got the impression that +Tully was trying to make up his mind what to do. + +The next thing Bob noticed, Tully was on the other side of the room, +pulling open one of the filing cases. The floor was carpeted and his +steps from the window to the filing cases had been noiseless. + +There was no rule against a clerk opening one of the cases, for the +documents kept there were of no major importance. Something in Tully’s +attitude caught Bob’s attention. Then he realized that Tully was looking +into one of the files which was under Bob’s supervision and there was a +strict rule against that. + +Bob hesitated for a moment. It seemed a little foolish to make an issue +over that. Probably Tully had done it absentmindedly. Then he remembered +his uncle’s warning to watch everything going on in the division. + +“Tully, you’re in the wrong file,” said Bob. + +Tully turned around quickly, his face flushing darkly. + +“No harm, I guess. I just wondered what you’ve been doing and how you’ve +been handling your file. I heard Jacobs complimenting you the other day +and thought I could get some good pointers by looking your stuff over.” + +“That’s okay, Tully. I’ll show you sometime when Jacobs is here, but you +know the rule about the files. I’ll have to ask you to close that one.” + +“And suppose I don’t?” snapped Tully. + +“Oh, you’ll close it all right,” said Bob. His voice was still calm and +even, but there was a note of warning that Tully dared not ignore. + +Bob closed the file on his desk and stood up, stretching his long, +powerful arms. Tully didn’t miss the significance of the motion for Bob +had a well founded reputation as a boxer. + +Tully turned back to the filing case and slammed the steel drawer shut. + +“There you are, Pollyanna,” he retorted. “That file doesn’t look so good +after all.” + +“Just so it suits Jacobs; that’s all that concerns me,” said Bob, sitting +down again. + +Tully picked up his topcoat to leave. + +“Well, anyway I don’t envy you staying on here alone tonight. This place +is giving me the creeps.” + +After Tully had departed, Bob was able to concentrate fully on his own +work. A clock boomed out again, but he was too preoccupied to count the +number of strokes. For all he knew it might have been ten o’clock, or +perhaps even eleven. + +A sharp knock at the door disturbed Bob. + +“Who is it?” he demanded. + +“Guard. Just checking up. How long are you going to be here?” + +It was the first time in many nights of overtime work that a guard had +ever checked up, but Bob decided that it might be a new rule placed in +effect without his knowledge. + +“Half an hour at least,” he replied. + +Apparently satisfied, the guard moved on and Bob could hear his footsteps +growing fainter as he bent to his task again. + +But he was not to work long uninterruptedly. The telephone buzzed and +there was obvious irritation in his voice when he answered. But it +vanished when he recognized his uncle’s voice. + +“I was a little worried,” explained Merritt Hughes, “when I phoned your +room and found you weren’t in. Everything all right?” + +“Yes, except I’ve had too many interruptions,” said Bob. Then he hastened +to explain. “I don’t mean you though. Tully Ross was in and sat around +for nearly an hour without doing anything except making me nervous.” + +“Did he hint at anything?” asked Bob’s uncle. + +“Yes. The same thing you mentioned. Evidently Condon Adams has told him +about it. You know Tully wants a position in the bureau of investigation, +too.” + +“Sure, every youngster in the country would like it,” replied Merritt +Hughes. “Better stop for tonight and run along home and get some sleep. I +want you on the alert every hour of the day. You’re in the office from +now on.” + +“I’ll be through in less than half an hour,” promised Bob. “Then I’ll go +directly home.” + +“It’s a bad night and getting worse. Take a taxi and don’t run the risk +of catching cold.” + +This Bob promised to do and with a sigh hung up the telephone receiver +and bent once more to the task of finishing the filing. + +As the hours of the night advanced, the wind grew colder and Bob arose +and closed the window. The air in the room was now damp and it would have +been easy to allow his mind to run riot for the building was strangely +silent. Noises from the street, far below, were smothered in the sound of +the rain, driven against the windows. + +A slight creak startled Bob and he whirled toward the door. Even in the +dim light which his desk light cast he could see the handle of the door +moving. Fascinated, he watched. The handle was moving slowly, as though +every effort was being made to guard against any possible noise. Bob +remained motionless in his chair as though he had suddenly turned to +stone. + + + + + Chapter V + A SLIVER OF STEEL + ★ + + +The time seemed endless. Actually it could only have been seconds that +Bob sat there watching the turning of the doorknob. Then the knob started +back. Unseen fingers had learned what they wanted to know. The door was +not locked. + +Through the hulking building there seemed no sound except Bob’s own +strained breathing. In the corridor it was as quiet as in the room, yet +someone must be outside the door, testing the lock. + +Bob shook his head. He must be dreaming. His nerves must be over-wrought +from too much work and on edge from the talk he had earlier in the +evening with his uncle. + +Reaching out, he tilted the shade of his desk lamp back and a flood of +light struck the doorknob. No! His eyes had not tricked him. The knob was +still turning. There was a faint click and then the knob remained +stationary. + +Bob leaped into action. In one fast lunge he was across the room, his +hands gripping the doorknob. He tugged hard, but the door refused to +open. Then he paused for hurried footsteps were going down the hall. Bob +shouted lustily. Perhaps his cry would reach the guard at the elevators. + +Then he shook the door. It couldn’t be locked, of that he felt sure. +Bracing himself again he tugged at the door and almost fell over +backwards when it suddenly opened. + +Bob stepped into the corridor. There was no one in sight but from a +distance he could hear someone hurrying toward him. A guard came around a +turn in the corridor. + +“Did you call just then?” demanded the watchman. + +“I’ll say I did,” replied Bob. “Someone was trying the door here and when +I tried to open it, the door stuck. Then I let out a whoop. Didn’t you +see anyone?” + +“No one came my way,” said the guard quickly, but his eyes did not meet +Bob’s squarely. “We’d better look along this end of the corridor. If +someone was here, he might have slipped into one of the other offices.” + +Bob shook his head. + +“No, he wouldn’t have done that. Besides, I distinctly remember hearing +him running down toward the elevators.” + +“Well, I wasn’t asleep and no one came my way,” insisted the guard. +“Maybe you were dreaming a little. You look kind of tired.” + +“I am tired, but this was no dream,” insisted Bob. Then he remembered the +door. What had made it stick? It hadn’t been locked. + +“Give me your flashlight,” said Bob and the guard handed over a shiny, +metal tube. + +Bob turned the beam of light on the floor, and searched closely. + +“What are you looking for?” asked the guard. + +“For the reason why the door stuck,” said Bob tartly. Then he found it—a +thin sliver of steel that had been inserted as a wedge. It was an +innocent enough looking piece, but when placed properly in a door could +cause considerable delay. + +Bob picked it up and placed it in his pocket. Although he was not aware +of it at the time, it was the first piece of evidence in a mystery which +was to pull him deep into its folds and require weeks of patient effort +to untangle. + +The guard had edged over to the door and now reached out to pull it shut. +Only a sharp order from Bob stopped him. + +“Keep your hands off the doorknob,” he ordered. “Someone was tampering +here and I don’t want you messing your hands around the place.” + +The guard hesitated as though undecided whether to obey Bob, and the +clerk stood up and doubled up a fist. + +“Better not touch that door.” There was a steelly quietness in the words +that decided the guard, and he stepped well back into the corridor. + +“You’d better get back to your post. I’ll take care of this situation,” +said Bob. “I’ll keep your flashlight and return it to you when I leave +the building. I want to do a little scouting around and may need this +light.” + +The guard grumbled something under his breath, but retreated down the +corridor and finally vanished from sight. Bob disliked him thoroughly for +his attitude had been one of sullen defiance; so unusual from the men +generally on duty at night. It might be well to speak to Jacobs about it +in the morning. + +Just to make sure that no one came along and touched the doorknob, Bob +took out his handkerchief and tied it around the knob in a manner which +would protect possible fingerprints. + +That done, he picked up the flashlight again and started to reconnoiter +in the corridor, trying one door after another. There was just a +possibility that the marauder had found a hiding place in an office which +had been left unlocked. Bob knew that it was almost a useless quest, for +the offices were checked each night. + +He made the rounds along one side of the corridor and started back on the +side opposite his own office. The night lights were on and at the far end +of the corridor it was necessary for him to use the flashlight. + +Door after door proved unyielding to his touch and he was about to give +up the quest when he came upon a door that swung inward when his hands +gripped the knob. + +Bob drew back suddenly and flashed the beam of light into the long room, +which was almost identical with the one in which he had been working. +What he saw there startled him more than he dared to admit later, and he +stepped inside and moved toward the nearest desk. + +The ray from the flashlight revealed the utter confusion in the room. +Baskets of papers on top of the desks had been upset and even the drawers +in the filing cabinets had been pulled out and their contents hurled +indiscriminately over the floor. + +A slight sound startled Bob and he swung around, the beam of light +focusing on the door. + +It was closing—swiftly and silently. + +Bob leaped forward, stumbled over a wastepaper basket, and then reached +the door which clicked shut just before he could grasp the handle. + +Bob tugged hard on the door, but like the one which led to his own +office, it stuck. + +Could it be another wedge of steel? Bob wondered and braced himself for +another lusty tug. The door gave way and Bob toppled backward in a heap, +the flashlight falling and blinking out. + +Bob had fallen heavily and for a moment he remained motionless on the +floor listening for the sound of someone moving along the corridor. He +could have shouted for the guard, but an inward distrust of the man kept +him from doing that. Instead, he groped around for the flashlight, turned +it on, and got to his feet, considerably shaken in mind and body by the +experiences of the last few minutes. + +The young clerk reached for the light switch and a glare of light flooded +the room, revealing even further the destruction which had been wrought +there. + +Bob looked around. Hundreds of papers had been strewn on the floor; some +of them had been ruthlessly destroyed and he wondered how many valuable +documents would be lost when they finally checked up. + +But this was no time for inaction, he decided, and he hastened to one of +the desks and picked up a telephone. He dialed quickly, but it was nearly +a minute before a sleepy voice answered. + +“Hello, Uncle Merritt?” asked Bob anxiously. + +“No, I’m not home; I’m still at the building. I wish you’d get down here +as soon as you can. + +“No, I haven’t had an accident, but some mighty strange things have been +going on around this floor tonight. One of the offices has been +completely ransacked. I’m in it now. Papers have been thrown all over and +the filing cases opened and a lot of stuff destroyed. + +“Who did it? Gosh, I wish I knew. Someone’s been shutting doors on me and +leaving steel wedges in them. It’s giving me the creeps.” + +“I’ll be right down,” promised the Department of Justice agent. + +Bob placed the receiver back on its hook and backed out of the room. The +fewer things he touched the better it would be and as he drew the door +shut, he was careful to keep his hands off the knob for there was a +possibility of valuable fingerprints being there. + +An eerie feeling raced up and down Bob’s spine as he turned toward the +door which opened into the office where he worked. The building was so +quiet it was disturbing, yet he knew some unknown marauder had been busy +on the floor while he had been bent over his desk. Could the unknown be +after the radio secrets his uncle had hinted about? It was certainly +worth considering. + +Bob reached the door that led into the office where he worked and stopped +suddenly. He felt cold all over as he stared at the doorknob. He +remembered distinctly having wrapped his own handkerchief around the knob +to preserve possible fingerprints. But there was no handkerchief there +now and the door was slightly ajar. The light had been on when he stepped +into the hall, but now the room was in inky darkness. + + + + + Chapter VI + IN THE DARKENED ROOM + ★ + + +Bob paused on the threshold of the long office, staring into the +blackness of the room. After his recent experiences he couldn’t be blamed +for hesitating a moment. + +Should he close the door, back into the hall and await his uncle’s +arrival or should he snap on the lights and see what had taken place in +the room? It seemed to Bob that he pondered those questions for several +minutes; actually it was less than five seconds. + +He reached for the light switch at the left of the doorway and pushed the +button. But there was no answering blaze of light; only the dead click of +the switch. + +Bob knew then that the lights had been tampered with, that more than +likely someone was lurking in the shadowy darkness of the office. His +better judgment told him to wait until he could summon assistance, but +some other urge drove him on. He couldn’t explain it later; he simply +went ahead. + +The young filing clerk stepped across the threshold, the flashlight in +his hand aimed down the center of the room. Then he turned on the flash +and a beam of light cut through the darkness. + +Bob gasped. The light showed papers strewn over the floor and the drawers +from desks and filing cases pulled indiscriminately out and dumped on the +floor. + +The shock of the confusion in the office brought him up short. Then he +started to swing the light about the room to determine the full extent of +the damage by the marauder. + +A slight noise to the right caught Bob’s attention and he turned in that +direction. Instinctively he knew that danger lurked there, and he tensed +his body. It came before he was ready; something hurtling out of the +dark; something that struck his right hand a numbing blow; something that +sent the flashlight crashing to the floor where the lens and the bulb +shattered and the light went out. + +But the blow sent Bob into action. He must get back to the door and get +it closed; that would cut off the one avenue of escape for the intruder. + +The clerk leaped backward, his hands reaching out for the doorway. He +collided with someone else; someone wearing a topcoat still damp from the +rain outside. + +Bob thought quickly. He must find some way to stop the other if for only +an instant. He drew back his right foot and swift kick connected with the +unknown’s shins with such force that an involuntary cry rang through the +room. Bob leaped on and crashed into the half opened door. With anxious +fingers he found the key on the inside, slammed the door shut and turned +the lock. + +That done Bob dropped down on the floor where he would have a chance to +rest, to collect his wits, and to plan his future course of action. + +For a time there was no sound in the room. He could not even catch the +breathing of the other man and he thought of the possibility that the +other had slipped out the door before he had closed it. Then he dismissed +that as an impossibility for there had not been sufficient time for that. + +Bob knew every inch of the long office; knew where every desk and chair +was located and every window. As his eyes became more accustomed to the +dark he could pick out the lighter blots which were the windows. + +Then a slight noise caught his attention. The unknown was moving, +probably on his hands and knees, feeling his way toward the door. Bob +couldn’t resist a chuckle as he thought of the dismay that would spread +through the other when he found the door securely locked and the key +missing. + +Just to be on the safe side, Bob edged away from the door and sought +shelter behind a nearby desk. To make sure that he would move noiselessly +he slipped off his shoes and placed them beside a filing cabinet where he +wouldn’t fall over them if it was necessary for him to make a sudden +move. + +Strangely enough Bob felt very calm. His heart beat rapidly and his +breath came shorter and faster, but his mind was remarkably clear, his +hands steady. He was glad now that he did not have the flashlight, for +using it would only have made him a target for the marauder. + +Bob wondered how long it would take his uncle to reach the scene. +Probably another ten minutes, for Merritt Hughes lived a considerable +distance from the building. What might happen inside that room in the +next ten minutes was something that Bob didn’t care to guess about. + +As Bob listened he could hear the almost noiseless movements of the other +man and knew that he was nearing the door. Then he heard hands moving +along the woodwork—finally the gentle turning of the doorknob. Then there +was the sharp rattle of the knob as though a sudden wave of anger had +swept over the man at the realization that he had been trapped in the +room. + +Bob moved away from the door, crawling on his hands and knees, and he +kept going until he was well down the room and right at the steel cabinet +where the radio documents were filed. With cautious hands he felt along +the front of the case. So far the drawers had not been pulled out for +they were identified only by key numbers instead of by the name of the +type of papers which they contained. + +This was one cabinet Bob was determined to protect, for, after what his +uncle had told him earlier in the night, he felt sure that this was the +object of the unknown’s visit. + +Once more the doorknob was rattled sharply; then silence again shrouded +the room and Bob felt his nerves tightening. It was tough waiting alone +in the darkness. He wondered if the other man possessed a gun and if he +would have the nerve to use it if an emergency caught him. + +Bob strained his ears for some sound of the other’s maneuvers. A faint +sort of “plop” made him smile. It sounded very much like a shoe being +placed gently on the floor. Several seconds later there was a similar +sound and Bob knew that they were now on even terms; neither one of them +having his shoes on. This man was no fool; he was determined to keep his +own movements as secret as possible. + +Then Bob heard a sound which was anything but heartening. The unknown was +coming toward him. He could hear the gentle scrape of knees as the man +crawled along the floor. He was evidently feeling his way along the +filing cabinets and Bob moved out toward the center of the room where he +found protection between two desks, set fairly close together. + +His action was not a minute too soon, for he had barely settled himself +in his new position when he saw a darker shadow moving along in front of +the filing cases. The man was less than six feet away, and breathing very +quietly, but steadily. + +Bob held his own breath as the man passed along the row of filing cases. +Evidently he was going to make the rounds of the room in an effort to +catch Bob by surprise, overpower him, and take away the key. Bob chuckled +inwardly at that thought. He was too familiar with the room to be caught +in that manner. + +Moving out slightly from behind the shelter of the desks, he saw the man +reach a window and raise his head so that he could look down on the +street. It was a temptation that Bob couldn’t resist and he picked up an +inkwell on the desk beside him, took careful aim, and hurled the heavy +glass container. + +Just as he threw the inkwell, Bob slipped and the noise attracted the +attention of the other man. He leaped to his feet and whirled about. The +glass container, instead of striking the man’s head, hit his shoulder, +glanced into the window and crashed its way on out into the darkness. + +There was a cry of pain from the intruder and then a sharp burst of flame +as a bullet scarred the top of the desk which shielded Bob. + +Bob went cold all over. There was no more fun in this thing. It was +deadly serious now and he knew that his very life might depend on the +events of the coming minutes for this man was cornered and capable of +shooting his way out if necessary. + + + + + Chapter VII + SIRENS IN THE NIGHT + ★ + + +As the echoes of the shot died in the room, Bob realized that he had been +foolish in throwing the inkwell. It had unduly alarmed the other man and +placed his own life in jeopardy. The slug from the gun had come much +closer than Bob wanted it to. + +There was only one consolation. The shot should attract the attention of +the guards on duty in the building and within a minute they should be at +the door, battering their way in. Against superior numbers Bob felt that +the intruder would not put up a resistance with gun play. + +Bob stared at the windows. The head and shoulders of the unknown had +disappeared and the distant noises of the street were clearer now, +drifting in through the broken window. + +Merritt Hughes should arrive at almost any minute and Bob felt that the +wise and sensible thing now was to play as safe as possible and await the +arrival of help. + +Crouched down between the desks, he was in a position to watch the file +with the radio documents and he knew that if they were molested he would +fight with all his strength to protect them. + +As the seconds passed into minutes Bob felt his muscles tensing and his +nerves becoming tighter. + +There was no sound in the room; there had been no sound since the echoes +of the shot had died away. Had his missile disabled the other man; had +the shot been fired involuntarily? They were questions he couldn’t +answer. + +Why didn’t a night guard appear in the corridor outside? Bob believed +that he would have risked a call for help if anyone passed. But strain as +he might, he could hear no one outside the door. + +Then Bob broke into a cold sweat. The man who had fired the shot was +almost beside him. + +Bob had been so intent upon listening for some sound in the corridor that +he had failed to hear the unknown crawling toward his own hiding place. + +Bob sensed, rather than saw, what was happening. He could hear the steady +breathing of the other and he held his own breath. Would the man crawl on +down the room toward the doorway or would he turn in between the desks +where Bob had sought shelter? + +The dark blob that was the other’s head and shoulders appeared between +the desks and Bob waited for an agonizing interval. Then the figure moved +on and Bob could breathe once more. + +That had been a close call. + +Then came another sound that brought Bob back to the alert. There was the +faint shrilling of a siren. + +Was it a fire alarm? Bob listened intently. No, it was sharper, more +penetrating. A police car. That was it! + +It was evident that the other man had also heard the night alarm for Bob +heard a muffled exclamation. He doubted if it was an alarm turned in by +his uncle for his protection, but at least it was enough to alarm the +marauder and Bob’s muscles snapped back to steelly tension. He had gone +so far now that he had no intention of allowing the other to escape at +the last minute. + +The steady wail of the siren drew nearer as down on the avenue the +speeding machine dashed through traffic lights and skidded past other +machines which were pulling over to give it the right of way. + +The siren rose to a crescendo and then died to a wail as the police car +swayed to a stop somewhere below and Bob knew then that rescue was near. +His uncle, feeling the need for quick re-enforcements, had evidently +called on the Washington police and commandeered a cruising radio car. + +From somewhere out of the darkness came a low, deadly voice. + +“Listen, kid, this spot is getting tough. Give me the key to this door or +I’m going to turn this gun loose and it will be just too bad if I get +you. I’ve got plenty of extra clips and I’m going out of here on my feet. +Give me that key!” + +Bob knew there was no time to lose for there was a ring of panic in the +other’s voice and you never could tell what a panic-stricken man would +do. + +The desks afforded little protection from a barrage of bullets and Bob +quickly edged his way out from behind them and in between two steel +filing cases. While these were not intended to be bullet proof, at least +they were much better than oak desks. + +“Did you hear me?” called the voice from near the doorway. “Give me that +key.” + +Bob slipped his hands into his pockets, and pulled out a key ring. The +key to his own room was somewhat similar to the one that fitted the door +of this office. He quickly detached this and tossed it toward the door. + +He couldn’t afford to cry out now for he knew the man near the door would +shoot. The key fell on the floor and he could hear the frantic efforts of +the other to locate it. Then came a gasp of relief from the unknown and +Bob heard him fumbling at the keyhole, trying to insert the key and turn +it in the lock. + +There was a sharp cry from the man at the door. + +“You’ve tricked me. Give me the right key. Give it to me!” The voice was +nearing a hysterical pitch and Bob smiled grimly. + +The man couldn’t stand the dark and the certain knowledge that outside +men were speeding toward that very room, men who would shoot first and +ask questions afterward. + +Bob wondered whether tossing another key would again trick the man at the +door. + +Before he could decide there was a stab of flame in the blackness and a +bullet crashed through the desks where he had been hiding. + +“Come on; give me that key!” The voice was hysterical now, a scream that +cut through the room and echoed out the shattered window. + +Down below another police siren was ebbing as a second car pulled up at +the curb and disgorged its load of armed men, who rushed into the +building to follow the lead of the first detail. + +Bob faintly heard elevator doors clang open. It would be only seconds now +until they were at the door, beating their way in. + +By this time Bob’s eyes were well accustomed to the darkness and he could +distinguish the shadow of the man crouched near the door, listening now +to the pounding of the police as they charged up the long corridor. + +“Bob, Bob! Where are you?” + +It was Merritt Hughes and Bob thrilled at the voice of his uncle. Then +dismay filled him for he knew what would happen if they broke down the +door and charged into the room for a trapped man is always dangerous. + +Fists beat against the door and two ribbons of flame streaked from the +gun, the bullets crashing through the door and out into the corridor. + +Bob couldn’t help shouting a warning. + +“Keep away; he’s desperate!” + +The answer to that was another shot into the desks where he had been +hiding and Bob knew that the man felt sure he was still hiding there. + +There was a sudden silence in the corridor and Bob knew that his uncle +and the police were conferring on the best way to break into the room. As +he listened he saw the man near the door moving, backing down into the +room where Bob was hiding and if he kept on coming he would pass within a +foot or less of Bob. + +Bob felt his muscles tightening and he breathed deeply. If he could only +disable the unknown, it would solve what promised to become a highly +dangerous situation. + +The man was coming noiselessly, in his stocking feet, his head cocked +toward the door where he listened for some further move. + +A yard, two feet and now only inches separated them. Bob was ready. His +hands shot out and caught the other man in a steelly grasp that choked an +involuntary cry from him. At the same time Bob kicked with all of his +strength. The blow caught the other man behind the knees and Bob could +feel him crumpling. + +The gun, which he had feared the most, clattered to the floor and they +were on equal terms, ready now to fight hand to hand. + +As they fell the other man twisted about and Bob knew that his adversary +was no weakling. He could feel the muscles of the other man’s arms +tightening and a short, sickening blow that started at the floor caught +him on the chin. + +Bob was weak all over for a moment, an interval just long enough to give +the other a chance to collect his wits. Then Bob was at him again, his +arms held in close, his fists raining blows like a trip hammer. They were +hard, fierce jabs that would have rocked an ordinary man to sleep in less +than ten seconds. He heard the other gasp as a right caught him in the +midriff, but he came back for more. + +Fighting in the dark was dangerous business. A wild blow might send his +hand crashing into a steel case or against a desk and his knuckles might +be broken but it was a chance Bob had to take and he slammed away with a +will. + +Suddenly the man went limp. Bob caught him, fearing a ruse, and shot home +one more hard right. Then he knew that the other was out—out cold, and he +suddenly went weak himself. + +Fists were beating against the door. + +“Open up, open up!” It was Merritt Hughes’ voice. + +Bob managed a reply. + +“Coming,” he called. “Just a minute.” + +“You all right?” demanded the federal agent, but Bob was too weak and +tired to reply. + +Somehow he managed to dig the key out of his pocket and with trembling +fingers he found the keyhole, inserted the key and turned the lock. The +door burst open to reveal Bob standing on wavering legs, and Merritt +Hughes caught him just as he collapsed. + + + + + Chapter VIII + THE PAPER VANISHES + ★ + + +Lights from a whole battery of flashlights seemed to blaze down at Bob +and he blinked hard as Merritt Hughes leaned over him. + +“Bob, Bob, are you hurt?” demanded the ace federal agent. + +Bob managed to shake his head. Just then he was too exhausted even to +talk. + +As he watched the flashlights swept around the room, revealing its wild +disorder. Then the lights focused on the form of a man sprawled out under +the nearest desk and Bob caught his breath for the man was in a uniform +of one of the night watchmen. So that was the reason why there had been +no response to his calls for help; the marauder had been the guard! + +Merritt Hughes stepped over to the unconscious form and gazed at the +man’s face. + +“You certainly landed a haymaker on one eye,” he told Bob. “Know who he +is?” Bob managed to sit up where he could glimpse the other man. + +“He’s the guard who was on duty tonight,” he said, “but I don’t know his +name. He is a new man.” + +Merritt Hughes chuckled grimly. + +“Well, he’s going to a lot different place. Maybe he’ll be able to +remember his name and tell us a few things when he wakes up. Now just +what happened here?” + +“It’s a long story,” began Bob. + +“Then save it until we’re alone later. Was anyone else running around up +here tonight except yourself and the guard?” + +Bob thought instantly of Tully Ross, then decided to wait and tell his +uncle about that when they were alone. + +“This fellow was the only intruder,” replied Bob, which was true enough, +for Tully belonged to the office staff. + +“Take him down to the nearest station and have him fingerprinted and +photographed,” the federal agent told the policemen. + +The officers leaned down and picked up the man Bob had fought and managed +somehow to get him to his feet. Supporting him on their shoulders they +walked him down the hall and Bob heard the elevator doors click. + +Bob’s uncle tried to turn on the lights in the room, but the switches, +though they snapped as usual, failed to send any current into the lights. + +“Fuses blown,” Bob heard him mutter. + +They were alone now, the police having departed with their prisoner. + +“Here’s an extra flashlight, Bob. See if you can find anything missing by +making a hurried search around the room,” directed Merritt Hughes. + +Bob felt stronger now and he got to his feet. He was still a little +unsteady, but the cool, rain washed air, coming in sharp gusts through +the window now, cleared his head and he took the flashlight which his +uncle offered. + +The twin beams of light swept around the room. + +“What a mess!” exclaimed the federal agent, as the lights revealed the +utter confusion. + +“Who’s in charge?” he asked. + +“Arthur Jacobs is the filing chief for this room,” replied Bob. + +“Then you’d better get him on the telephone and see that he gets down +here at once. Explain what’s happened and tell him that you want to check +over the files for any possible missing papers.” + +Bob looked up the number of the filing chief’s home telephone and dialed. +It was some time before a sleepy voice answered and when Bob informed the +filing chief who was speaking the voice was sharp and angry. + +But when he imparted the news and added that a federal agent was waiting +for his arrival and the checkup, the filing chief promised to come down +at once. + +In the meantime a janitor came up from somewhere below and fixed the +fuses so that there was ample light in the long room. + +“I can start in checking up on the files now,” said Bob, but his uncle +held out his hand. + +“I don’t want a thing touched until the filing chief is here,” he +explained. “Then, if something important is missing, you’ll have a clean +bill of health.” + +“But I’m sure that nothing important has come through lately,” said Bob. +“Of course we don’t know definitely when important records are being +filed, but we usually have a pretty good hunch.” + +“Then here’s hoping that your hunch has been right,” replied his uncle. + +Bob told him about the condition of the other room down the hall and they +went there and examined it at some length, finally deciding to lock and +seal the door until morning when a more thorough inspection could be +made. + +By the time they were back in the room where Bob worked, the elevator +doors clanged open and they could hear impatient footsteps hurrying +toward them. + +Arthur Jacobs, short, heavy and round-faced, fairly popped through the +door. His blue eyes went wide as he saw the litter of papers in the room +and Bob felt sorry for the filing chief for Jacobs had a splendid record +of efficiency. + +“What under the sun happened?” demanded Jacobs. “I’m afraid I was so +sleepy I was sharp with you over the phone,” he told Bob. + +“I guess I would have been a little provoked at being routed out at this +time of night,” admitted Bob. “I guess my uncle can tell you better than +I can.” + +Arthur Jacobs, after glancing again at the wild confusion of papers on +the floor, faced the federal agent. + +Merritt Hughes described the events of the night briefly and Bob saw the +filing chief casting anxious glances toward one of the steel cabinets. +His own heart missed a beat or two for the cabinet that appeared to be +worrying the filing chief was the one in which the newest radio documents +were kept. It was here that any papers relating to new discoveries in +this field would be placed. + +But Bob managed to reassure himself. He was convinced that only the man +he had caught could have been in the room and there had been no way for +him to get rid of any papers which he might have stolen from the file. + +Then Arthur Jacobs interrupted the federal agent. + +“Just a minute. Some important papers came through late this afternoon +and I placed them in one of the files myself. I want to be sure that +they’re here.” + +The filing chief stepped to the radio filing cabinet and skimmed through +the papers with expert fingers. + +Bob saw the frown of anxiety deepen on the filing chief’s face as his +fingers sorted the documents expertly. Jacobs shook his head and then +bent down and scanned each document on the floor in front of the case. + +“Anything important missing?” asked Merritt Hughes. + +Jacobs didn’t answer at once, and when he finally looked up, Bob read the +answer in his face. + +“Yes,” said the filing chief in a voice so low that it carried only a few +feet, “the papers which came over this afternoon have vanished.” + + + + + Chapter IX + SUSPICIONS + ★ + + +Bob and his uncle stared at Arthur Jacobs with unbelieving eyes, and the +filing chief saw their doubt. + +“The papers are gone—gone I tell you.” His voice rose almost to a frenzy +for this was the first time that such a thing had occurred in his usually +well ordered and carefully routined department, and he had visions of +losing his job. + +“Yes, yes, we heard you,” replied Merritt Hughes. “But perhaps you missed +them in going through the file. Let’s go through together.” + +“It won’t do any good,” said Jacobs in a flat and hopeless voice. “I know +this file from A to Z and the papers that came in this afternoon are not +here.” + +The federal agent paused and looked hard at the filing chief. + +“You say they were important papers?” + +Jacobs nodded. “They were so important that I refused to trust them to +anyone else.” + +“You’re sure no one in the department knew these papers were coming +through?” insisted the federal agent. + +“I can’t be sure,” replied the filing chief, “for there has been talk +drifting around the last few days about some important radio discoveries +that have been made by the army engineers. But I am sure that no one knew +the exact time these papers came over.” + +“Was it a complete file on the new discoveries?” asked Merritt Hughes +anxiously. + +“I don’t know, but from the usual procedure, I would say that it was only +a partial file. Just as a precautionary step they usually send the +records of new formulas, and developments over in several sections so +that it would be almost impossible to take one section and know what it +was all about.” + +“But you’re not sure about this special file?” + +“No, except that it was small; a single sheet of paper in a sturdy manila +envelope.” + +“We’d better go through everything in the room,” decided Bob’s uncle, and +they got down on their hands and knees and started rummaging through the +litter of papers. + +It would take days to place these back in their proper sequences and Bob +felt sorry for Jacobs. + +They finished one side of the room and started down another. There was no +sign of the missing envelope and Bob’s uncle phoned the precinct police +station to learn if such an envelope had been found on the prisoner. + +“Search him again,” he instructed the police when they informed him that +no envelope or papers of any description had been found. + +Bob looked toward the half opened window. + +“Do you think it would have been possible for him to toss that paper out +the window and have it picked up by someone on the ground?” he asked. + +Merritt Hughes went to the window and looked down. It was better than a +hundred feet to the ground and the sharpness of the wind had not +lessened. He shook his head. + +“I don’t think that happened,” he said. “It would have been too risky. +Either that paper is still in this room or it was taken out by that +fellow when he left.” + +“But the police haven’t found anything,” protested Bob. + +“Sometimes even the police slip up when they run into an especially +clever crook and this man had to be clever to get in here in a guard’s +uniform and stand night duty.” + +Their search of the room neared an end and Arthur Jacobs looked even more +downcast. + +“I knew it was missing when I failed to find it in the file,” he groaned. +“This is where I lose my reputation.” + +“Don’t worry about that. We’ve got to find this paper first,” said +Merritt Hughes. “Go through the file once more.” + +With the federal agent on one side and Bob on the other, the filing chief +examined every paper in the cabinet, but without success. + +Merritt Hughes turned on his nephew. + +“You’re sure that you were the only one in this office until this fellow +got in?” he asked Bob. + +Bob hesitated, wondering whether he dared implicate Tully Ross by +mentioning his name. But Tully had been there and the disappearance of +the radio document was too important to let anything like that interfere, +he decided. + +“Well, Tully Ross dropped in for a few minutes,” said Bob. + +“Why didn’t you tell me this in the first place?” asked the federal +agent, and Bob felt the color in his cheeks mounting at the rebuke which +was implied by his uncle’s words. + + + + + Chapter X + ON THE LEDGE + ★ + + +Arthur Jacobs wheeled around sharply, at the exchange between uncle and +nephew. + +“What was Ross doing here at night?” demanded the filing chief. + +“I guess he just dropped in; saw the lights burning up here and wondered +what was going on,” replied Bob. + +“Did he touch anything, work on anything?” There was a desperate note of +anxiety in the filing chief’s voice and Bob knew that Jacobs was thinking +only of the reputation of his department rather than linking Tully to the +events of the night. + +“No, he only offered to help me, but I told him I was getting along all +right,” said Bob. + +“Did he ask you about any of the papers you were filing?” pressed the +federal agent. + +“Well, not exactly, but he did mention something about the radio secrets. +That’s been more or less common knowledge in the department that +something big was breaking and we have all been curious about it.” + +“Did Tully touch this file or go into it?” demanded the filing chief. + +Bob hesitated. Tully had looked into the file, but he hadn’t removed +anything Bob was sure. + +“Well, did he touch anything?” pressed Jacobs. + +“He did open this file,” admitted Bob, “but I looked up just then and I +am sure that he didn’t remove anything. In fact, I don’t think he touched +anything inside the file.” + +“Why did he open the file?” asked Merritt Hughes. + +“Well, he mentioned something about wanting to see the way I kept my +files. I guess he said he had heard Mr. Jacobs say he liked the way I +handled them.” + +Jacobs smiled for it was no secret with him that Bob was his star +assistant, while Tully was probably the poorest of the clerks who worked +in the filing room. + +“You’re sure Tully didn’t take anything out?” insisted his uncle. + +“I can’t be positive,” said Bob, “but I don’t believe anything was +removed by him.” + +Merritt Hughes was silent for a minute. When he spoke again he addressed +his words to Bob. + +“Get Tully on the telephone and tell him to dress and get down here right +away.” + +From the tone of his voice, Bob knew that it would be useless to say +anything more in defense of the other clerk and he went to the telephone +and dialed Tully’s apartment number. It was two o’clock now and an +unearthly hour to rout anyone out of bed, so Bob prepared himself for a +long wait at the telephone. He was not disappointed for it was at least +three minutes before a sleepy voice answered and Bob recognized it as +that of Tully. + +When he explained that the other clerk must come down at once, there were +sleepy protests and Bob’s uncle, provoked at Tully’s attitude, took the +phone. + +“Tully, this is Merritt Hughes. There’s been trouble in this office +tonight. You are one of two outsiders who were in here. If you know +what’s good for you, get down here at once and don’t argue.” + +With that he hung up the receiver without giving Tully an opportunity to +answer. + +“I think he’ll be down without losing any time,” he said, and Bob was +ready to agree. + +Tully lived some distance from the office. Bob knew that it would be +nearly half an hour before he could arrive. + +“Let me have a flashlight,” he said to his uncle, “and I’ll go down on +the ground floor and see if there is any chance that paper was thrown +from the window.” + +Merritt Hughes nodded his agreement and handed a light to Bob. + +“I’ll go along,” said Arthur Jacobs. “I can’t stay up here and do +nothing.” + +The filing chief was visibly shaken and Bob was glad enough to have +companionship for there would be no fun in prowling through the shrubbery +at the base of the building at that hour of the night. + +They walked down the corridor together and turned and faced the elevator +entrance. The cage came up in answer to their summons and they dropped +swiftly toward the first floor. + +“Find out yet what happened to the regular guard on our floor?” Bob asked +the elevator operator. + +“They’ve checked his home, but he left there right on time. It’s a cinch +he never reached here, though. This building has been searched from top +to bottom and there’s no sign of him.” + +When they stepped out on the main floor there was evidence of suppressed +activity for several guards, flashlights in their hands, hurried past +them. + +“They’re even searching the closets,” volunteered the elevator operator, +“for the fellow who was caught up on your floor was wearing the guard’s +uniform.” + +Bob whistled softly. This was getting more serious every minute. He +wondered about phoning the news upstairs to his uncle. But he decided +against that. They would soon return to the upper floor and he could tell +him then. + +The night was as blustery as ever and Bob drew his topcoat close as the +first gust of wind and rain swept down on them. The flashlights threw +feeble glows ahead of them as they floundered through the shrubbery which +flanked the base of the building. + +“Ouch!” cried the filing chief as a piece of shrubbery snapped into his +face and Bob turned to help him. + +“Go on; I’m all right,” said Jacobs and they pushed ahead, Bob in the +lead. + +Back and forth they beat their way through the shrubbery, their lights +held close to the ground. Time after time they stopped to pick up a sheet +of paper in the faint hope that it might be the missing radio document +they were seeking so anxiously. + +Now they were directly under the windows of the office. Bob, looking up, +could see the glow of lights from the windows. Here they were doubly +careful to make a thorough search and Arthur Jacobs went over every inch +of the ground with his own light, stooping to be sure that no scrap of +paper went unobserved. + +The quest looked hopeless and Bob stood up to ease his aching back. + +“Guess we might as well give up,” he said. “Tully will be here in a few +minutes and we’ll want to be back upstairs when he arrives.” + +“There’s just a chance the paper might have been blown around the +corner,” said the filing chief, who was determined to cling to even the +most slender hope. + +“Well, there’s a chance, but it’s a mighty slim one. We’ll have a try, +though,” agreed Bob. + +The rain was even sharper as they turned to the corner of the building +and the lights attempted to pierce the blackness of the hour. + +For five minutes they crawled back and forth underneath the shrubbery. +Bob was chilled now and a trickle of water, coming off his hat and +dropping down his neck, did nothing to improve his spirits. His knees and +back ached and it would seem good to get back into the office where it +was light and warm and there would be no rain to face. + +“I guess we’ve looked under every shrub on this side of the building,” +finally said Arthur Jacobs and there was a bitter note of disappointment +in his voice. “We might as well give up and go back.” + +Bob straightened up and the beam from his flashlight struck one of the +deep, recessed windows that were on the ground floor. The ledge in front +of the window itself was at least two feet wide and it was on this ledge +that the beam of light centered. + +Bob cried out involuntarily and Arthur Jacobs, hearing the cry, whirled +to his side. + +Something was on that ledge; something that was shrouded in black. Bob’s +heart leaped with an emotion that was one of combined fear and curiosity +and with Jacobs at his side he plunged forward through the shrubbery. + + + + + Chapter XI + STRAINED TEMPERS + ★ + + +Bob was the first to reach the ledge, which was about two feet above the +ground level and well protected from the onslaughts of the storm. + +His flashlight revealed the figure of a man, swathed in a dark blanket, +jammed up against the window. + +Bob was reaching for the blanket when Arthur Jacobs seized his arm. + +“Don’t. We’d better wait until we can get your uncle down here.” + +“No,” decided Bob, “we’ll find out what this is all about right now.” + +With that he pulled the blanket off the figure and stared down into the +pain-wracked eyes of the guard who was usually on duty on his floor. A +gag, which had been ruthlessly put in place, made speech for the captive +out of the question. + +“Run for help!” Bob told Arthur Jacobs and the filing chief departed as +rapidly as his short legs would carry him. + +While he was waiting for help, Bob busied himself in an effort to +unfasten the captive’s bonds. + +Picture wire had been used to bind the man’s hands and wrists and the gag +was of rough, heavy material which was held in place by strips of +adhesive tape. It was to this that Bob gave his first attention for from +the expression in the guard’s eyes he knew that the gag was causing him +untold agony. + +With capable but gentle fingers, Bob worked at the gag until the cruel +bandage was freed. He bent down close to hear the first whisper from the +man’s lips. + +“Water, please!” + +Bob half propped the captive up and then turned in quest of some water. +Anything halfway decent would do. Nearby a small torrent was coming from +one of the drain spouts. It had been raining for hours, so the spouting +should have been clean. + +The filing clerk cupped his hands under the spout and got a double +handful of water. This he carried back to the ledge and let it trickle +into the other’s mouth. + +He was just finishing his task when Arthur Jacobs, followed by half a +dozen guards, appeared on the run, the beams from their flashlights +cutting a broad swath of light through the darkness. + +The guards picked up the captive and carried him inside. Blankets were +produced, the wire was cut from his hands and feet. By this time Merritt +Hughes, who had been notified, was down on the ground floor. He took +charge immediately. + +“Get this man to a hospital at once,” he directed. “Two of you go along +to see that he talks with no one. Understand, no one. I’ll be around soon +and talk with him as soon as they get him into bed and take every +precaution to avoid pneumonia.” + +Bob felt sorry for the guard. He had been stripped of his uniform, bound +and gagged and had been helpless on the ledge for hours. It would be a +miracle if he did not suffer an attack of pneumonia. + +An ambulance, which had been summoned, arrived, and they saw the guard +lifted into the vehicle. Two other guards climbed in beside him. + +“Remember, no one is to talk with him until I arrive,” Merritt Hughes +ordered. + +As they turned to re-enter the building, the federal agent spoke to Bob. + +“Tully Ross got here just before the guard was found. Come along upstairs +while I question him.” + +They were waiting for the elevator when a short, thick-set man hastened +in. He was scowling and obviously had been routed out of bed. + +Merritt Hughes turned to greet the newcomer and as he recognized him +there was no cordiality in the greeting. + +“Hello, Adams,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” + +“I’ll bet you didn’t,” snapped the other, “but don’t think for a minute +you can bull-doze my nephew and get away with it.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“You know darned well what I mean. Didn’t you just phone Tully Ross and +order him down here; didn’t you practically threaten him?” + +“I wouldn’t call it exactly a threat, but I did tell him to get down here +at once if he knew what was good for him. No clerk is going to be +impudent with me.” + +Merritt Hughes spoke firmly and calmly, but there was something in the +flash of his eyes that told Condon Adams that he had gone far enough. + +“If you want to come along while I talk with Tully, you’re quite +welcome,” he added. + +Condon Adams grunted and shouldered his way ahead of them and into the +elevator. + +They were silent as they rode up to the top floor and strode down the +corridor to the office where Tully Ross was waiting for them. + +Tully’s dark, rather handsome face, was marked by frowns as he saw Bob +enter behind Merritt Hughes. + +“Now what’s been going on here?” demanded Condon Adams as he surveyed the +room with cool, calculating eyes. Suddenly he saw the radio file and he +swung to face Merritt Hughes. + +“This case getting hot?” He shot the question out in short, chopped-off +words. + +Bob’s uncle nodded. + +“Looks like it.” + +“Fine one you are not to let me know,” said Adams bitterly. + +“I don’t recall that you’ve ever tipped me off to any breaks in any case +we’ve worked on before,” said Merritt Hughes coolly. “When you get in +that habit I’ll try to learn your telephone number.” + +Condon Adams snorted. + +“About what I expected. Well, let’s get along here. What happened?” + +“You’ll learn all that in good time,” said Bob’s uncle. “Right now I’m in +charge and I want to know why Tully came up to the office tonight and why +he tried to look through the radio file. Speak up, Tully.” + +“There isn’t much to tell,” began Tully. “I was going by and when I saw +the lights on in the office I came up. Just curiosity, I guess.” + +“Sure it wasn’t anything more?” + +“Sure.” + +“Then why did you try to look into the radio file?” + +Tully shot a bitter glance at Bob for he realized that Bob was the only +source of information on his activities while he was in the room. + +“That was curiosity, too. You know there’s been talk around about some +important papers coming over.” + +Arthur Jacobs wrung his hands. + +“Talk, talk, talk. Are there no secrets any more in this department?” + +“Not many,” retorted Tully, who appeared to take malicious glee in +taunting the filing chief. + +“That’s enough, Tully. You know there have been serious happenings. Bob +was attacked by a marauder who had gone through the files here.” + +“What was he doing out of the room; how did anyone get in?” It was Condon +Adams’ turn to speak. + +Bob replied sharply, explaining what had happened. + +“I’d call it mighty poor judgment on your part to leave this room no +matter what the circumstances,” said Adams. “I think I’ll lodge a +complaint against you.” + +“That’s going far enough,” Merritt Hughes said firmly. “You’ll do nothing +of the kind. If this thing is going to get as personal as that I’ll file +one against your nephew for coming up here and attempting to get into a +file that is prohibited to him. Now how would you like that?” + +It was obvious that Adams did not relish the suggestion and the whole +matter of filing complaints was dropped right there. + +Merritt Hughes took charge then, questioning Tully carefully about all of +his actions while he was in the room. Tully was surly, but he answered +truthfully enough. + +“How about it, Bob?” asked the federal agent. + +“What’s the matter? Doubt my word?” flared Tully, his dark face flushing. + +“Simply checking,” said Bob’s uncle and the tone of his voice invited no +further remarks from Tully. + +“Tully’s told exactly what happened up until the time he left the room,” +said Bob. + +“Then suppose you tell us what happened after he left and you were left +here alone,” interjected Condon Adams. There was an unpleasant inflection +in his voice that Bob resented; an implication that Bob might have been +responsible for whatever had taken place that night. Merritt Hughes got +it, too, but he ignored it. + +Bob told his story in a straight-forward manner. Once or twice Adams +interrupted to ask questions, but he gained little satisfaction from his +efforts to heckle Bob. + +“Well we’ve got two more sources of information,” said Merritt Hughes. +“One is the man who was captured in this room and the other is the guard +who was found on the ledge down below.” + +“Which one are you going to question first?” asked Adams. + +“I don’t know. It’s late now. I think I’ll see them in the morning.” + +“Not trying to give me the slip, are you?” the words shot out of Adams’ +mouth, which was twisted into a bitter sneer. + +“I’m simply handling this case in my own way,” replied Merritt Hughes +evenly. + +“Oh, I don’t know whether it’s your case or not. Remember that both of us +have been assigned to this radio angle. Well, you do the work and I’ll +get the information out of your reports. It will save me a lot of tedious +detail. Come on, Tully.” + +Condon Adams, moving as rapidly as his short, thick legs would carry him, +left the room and Tully, with a backward glance of mingled relief and +unsatisfied curiosity, trailed after him. + +Merritt Hughes, watching them depart, shook his head and Bob heard his +uncle mutter, “What a precious pair.” + +“What are we going to do now?” asked Bob. + +“We’re going home and get some sleep. You’ve been through enough for one +night. Jacobs, see that he is relieved of routine tomorrow. I want him +with me when I question these men.” + +“I’ll make the necessary arrangements,” promised the filing chief, who +was still looking disconsolately at the mess of papers scattered over the +floor. “Use Bob as long as you need him and I’ll fix up the reports here. +Good luck and good night.” + +“Good night,” replied the federal agent and Bob echoed the words. They +strode down the hall together, entered the elevator, and when they +reached the entrance of the building were fortunate enough to hail an owl +cab which went cruising by. + +The air was fresh, but the rain, coming down steadily, was driven by a +sharp wind and the night was as raw as ever. + + + + + Chapter XII + STEPS IN THE HALL + ★ + + +Bob leaned back in the taxi. It was restful listening to the steady hum +of the tires on the wet pavement. His uncle looked at him quizzically. + +“Pretty much all in?” he asked. + +Bob nodded. “Well, I’m willing to admit that I’m more than a little tired +and my muscles ache a good bit from that tussle in the dark back in the +office. I thought for a minute that fellow was going to get away from me. +It’s a good thing you put in an appearance when you did.” + +“I knew speed was essential and I corralled a few of the local police to +help me out,” chuckled Merritt Hughes. “Still think you’d like to be a +real federal agent?” + +“And how!” said Bob sincerely. “It’s got the thrilling kind of a life I’d +like to follow.” + +“Don’t make the mistake of thinking it is all thrills and fun. There are +months upon months when the cases are the merest of routines and the work +is real drudgery. But every so often something bobs up that does add a +zest to living. Where do you suppose that radio document went?” + +“I wish I knew. Jacobs will worry himself sick until it is recovered. I +knew something was in the air, but none of us thought anything important +had been sent over.” + +“Well, someone knew it and that someone must have had inside knowledge. +There was no guess work in rifling those files.” + +“No, but someone got into the wrong office the first time,” said Bob, +recalling the ransacking of the other office on the same corridor. He +felt in his pocket for the thin steel wedges which had been used in the +doors. Snapping on the dome light in the taxi, he held them in the palm +of his hand. + +“These wedges were used in an attempt to lock the doors and keep me in,” +he explained. “I forgot all about them until just now. What do you make +of them?” + +His uncle looked at them sharply, but refused to touch them. Pulling out +a clean handkerchief, he had Bob drop the wedges into the cloth, covered +them carefully and placed them in an inside pocket. + +“I’ll turn them over to the laboratory. They may be able to find some +fingerprints if they haven’t been handled by too many people.” + +“I’m the only one who’s handled them outside of the man who put them in +place,” declared Bob, who felt that here might be a really important +clue. + +The taxi swung toward the curb. A dull light gleamed over the entrance of +the apartment house where Bob had a room. + +“Sure you’re all right?” his uncle asked. + +“Absolutely. I’ll take a shower and hop into bed. Don’t forget to stop +for me when you go down town to interview those fellows.” + +“That’s a promise,” agreed the federal agent. + +Bob jumped out of the cab, hurried across the parking and into the +entrance of the apartment. Turning, he watched the cab pull away from the +curb. Then he inserted his key in the lock and entered the building. The +air was warm and dank and it made him sleepy. + +His room was on the third floor at the back and the lights in the hallway +were none too bright. Bob’s room was part of an apartment occupied by an +elderly couple, but it had an outside entrance on the hallway and he +could come and go as he pleased. + +Another feature of it was a private bathroom. In spite of its comparative +luxury, he was able to obtain the room for a rent well within his modest +means for Bob also acted as a sort of caretaker for the apartment when +the older people were away on one of their extensive trips. + +Bob unlocked the door of his room. He had left one window partially open +and the air here was fresh. Turning on the lights he undressed quickly +and stepped into the bathroom where he was soon under a shower. + +A rough toweling down made his body glow and then he pulled on fresh +pajamas. The clock on the dresser showed the time to be three thirty. The +night was nearly gone when Bob tumbled into bed and turned off the light +on the bedside stand. In less than a minute he was sound asleep. + +Bob’s slumber for the first hour was deep and dreamless. Then his mind, +as his body threw off part of the fatigue, became restless and pictures +of the events of the night flashed through his brain. Bob stirred +restlessly once or twice and finally aroused enough to mutter in his +sleep. + +He must have been reliving the vivid struggle in the darkness of the +office for he was tense when he sat up suddenly—wide awake and listening +for some sound from the hall. + +Sleep vanished from his eyes. There was no mistake about it. Someone was +outside his door, trying the knob ever so gently. At that moment Bob +longed for some other weapon than his two capable hands. The side of the +bed nearest the door creaked and Bob knew if he eased his body over that +edge the creaking of the bed might scare away the marauder. Moving +cautiously, he slid out the side next to the wall and put his bare feet +on the floor. + +An alleyway ran back of the apartment and a street light at the head of +this sent just enough light down to mark the window as a lighter square +against the general pattern of darkness. + +This turning of the doorknob was getting to be too much for Bob and he +cast about for some object which he could use as a club. His golf bag was +in the corner and he managed to extract a steel shafted midiron which +would make an excellent weapon if he had a chance to swing it. + +There was no thought of fear in Bob’s mind as he moved toward the door. +His bare feet padded softly across the floor and he reached out and +touched the doorknob with his finger tips. It was moving. + +For a moment Bob recoiled like he had been struck by an electric shock. +Then he got a grip on his nerves and reached down for the key which he +had left in the lock on the inside of the door. + +To his surprise the key was not in the lock. Then he understood the +slight noise that had aroused him. Whoever was on the other side of the +door had pushed the key out of the lock and the noise made when it had +struck the floor had brought him out of his sleep. + +Bob leaned down and felt along the floor. He reached out in his search +for the key, became overbalanced, and before he could regain his +equilibrium, dropped to his knees with a thud that was plainly audible in +the hall. + +Bob’s hands closed on the key he sought, but as he drew himself upright +again he heard someone running down the hall. Seconds later came the slam +of an outside door and Bob knew that it would be useless to attempt any +pursuit. + +He turned on the light and opened the door. The same dim lights were +burning in the hallway. Closing the door, he was sure that it was locked +and then wedged a chair under the doorknob. + +When Bob got back into bed he was a sadly perplexed young filing clerk. +Why should an attempt be made to enter his room? The riddle was beyond +him. Perhaps his uncle could solve it in the morning. + + + + + Chapter XIII + BOB FIGHTS BACK + ★ + + +Bob’s nerves were tight. The mystery of the turning knob had aroused and +sharpened his senses and sleep was slow in coming to him again. He tossed +fitfully on the bed, turning the pillow several times in an effort to +find a more comfortable place for his head. When he finally dropped +asleep it was just before dawn. + +Once asleep, Bob fell into a heavy slumber that was finally broken by the +strident ringing of the telephone at the stand beside his bed. It was +with an effort that he sat up in bed and reached sleepily for the +instrument. + +“Hello,” he said in a voice still drugged with sleep. + +Then all thoughts of sleep were swept from his mind by the message which +came over the telephone. It was from his uncle. + +“The head of the bureau of investigation wants you to come down for an +interview at eleven o’clock,” said Merritt Hughes. “Think you can make +it?” + +“What time is it now?” asked Bob. + +“Nine-thirty.” + +“I’ll be there with half an hour to spare,” promised Bob. “I’ve got a lot +to tell you.” + +“Anything happen?” There was a note of anxiety in the question. + +“Not quite. Tell you about it later. Where will I meet you?” + +The federal agent named an office in the Department of Justice building +and Bob promised to be there right after breakfast. + +He hung up the receiver and piled out of bed. His muscles were still a +little sore as a result of the encounter of the night before, but a +snappy shower toned up his body and when he finished dressing he felt +that he was ready for anything the day might have in store in the way of +excitement and adventure. + +Bob put on his topcoat and then removed the chair which he had wedged +under the doorknob. In the cool light of the morning, the events of the +night before seemed fantastic yet he knew that one man was in jail while +another was in a hospital. + +Bob stepped into the hall and carefully locked the door. More or less as +a reaction he looked cautiously up and down the hall and then laughed at +himself. It was just a plain hall and his fears seemed so ridiculous now. + +It was 9:45 o’clock when Bob stepped out of the apartment building. He +paused a moment to turn down the brim of his hat for the glare of the sun +was too bright for unprotected eyes. + +Across the street a large, dark sedan was parked and several men were +apparently waiting for someone to emerge from the apartment house +opposite. Bob turned and strode down the street. There was ample time for +him to have a leisurely breakfast and still reach the Department of +Justice building with plenty of time to spare. + +The young filing clerk stopped at a nearby restaurant where he usually +had breakfast and ordered rolls and coffee. Several morning papers were +on the table and he scanned them with unusual interest. + +Washington reporters were unusually alert and it was just possible that +they might have received some hint of what had taken place last night. +Bob went through every page, but there was no story even remotely +connected with the night before. + +He put down the papers and turned to his breakfast, wondering what the +chief of the bureau of investigation wanted. Of course it must be linked +with the radio document, but Bob felt that his uncle could adequately +give all of the information needed. + +Then another thought flashed through his head. But it seemed ridiculous. +Yet his uncle had mentioned only the night before that there was a +possibility. Bob’s great ambition was to become an agent of the +Department of Justice and in that ambition Tully Ross was a bitter rival. + +Bob finished his breakfast and started walking toward the Department of +Justice building. The air was bracing and he swung along at a good pace, +unaware of a sedan which was following at a discreet distance. + +The filing clerk turned a corner and started down a little used street +which was a short-cut toward his destination. As he turned, the car +following him spurted forward and closed in the distance. Bob was less +than fifty feet down the block when the car swung around the corner. The +squeal of the tires as the wheels were cramped caught Bob’s attention and +he turned around to look at the sedan. + +He recognized the machine instantly. It was the car which had been parked +across the street from his own apartment house. Something in the +intentness of the driver and the alertness of the man beside him sent a +wave of apprehension pounding through Bob’s veins. He felt sure that the +car was on that street for no good purpose and he was the only pedestrian +in sight. + +Bob knew the short street thoroughly. Beside him was a rather high iron +fence that protected a private home. Just inside the fence was a clump of +barberry so thick they were almost a jungle of shrubbery. There was no +protection across the street and it was a good two hundred feet to the +intersection where he could hope to obtain help. + +Bob heard the car slow down now and he steeled himself for what he felt +was going to be an unpleasant encounter. Just why he had that premonition +he could never tell, but in later days, his hunches were to serve him +well. + +The driver of the sedan had a scar on his forehead while the passenger in +the front seat, who was nearest Bob, had red hair that frizzled out from +beneath a soft felt hat. + +The car stopped at the curb and the passenger jumped out, leaving the +door open. + +“Say, buddy, I’m looking for an address near here. Maybe you can help +me.” + +“Sorry, I’m afraid not. I’m in a hurry,” retorted Bob, edging a little +closer to the iron picket fence. + +“Oh, I guess you’re not in such a hurry. Matter of fact, I’ve got a +little business with you. Ain’t you a filing clerk down in the archives +division of the War Department?” + +“Maybe I am and then maybe I’m not.” Bob’s reply was crisp. + +“Smart guy, huh? Well, I know who you are and I’ve got business with +you.” + +Bob measured the other, wondering just how hard he would have to hit him +to knock him out. The red head was about five feet eight tall, but was +compact. + +“We’re going to take a little ride and talk. See?” There was a threat in +every word. + +“I’m not riding this morning,” he said firmly. + +“Give him a crack on the noodle and drag him in,” called the man at the +wheel of the sedan. He started to get out of the car and Bob knew that +between the two of them they would be able to overpower him. + +“You asked for it,” he muttered as his right swung in a short, hard chop +that landed on the red-head’s solar plexus. The blow caught the other man +napping and doubled him up. Bob was ready for him and a hard cross with +his left to the chin ended all thoughts of a fight which might have been +in the other’s head. + +“Hey, you,” yelled the driver. “You can’t get away with that.” + +Bob saw him reaching for his back pocket and tugging at something. That +decided Bob, who felt sure the other was reaching for a gun. Putting his +hands on the fence, Bob vaulted the iron barrier. + +He landed in the tangle of barberry, but the shrubbery was so tall that +he crashed through and a protecting thicket shielded him from the eyes of +the man on the other side of the fence. + +Without waiting to see what was happening in the street, Bob beat his way +through the shrubbery. The thorns tore at his clothes and his hands were +soon streaked with scratches, but his thought was to get as far away as +possible in the shortest time. + + + + + Chapter XIV + SPECIAL AGENT NINE + ★ + + +As Bob clawed his way through the dense shrubbery there was a sharp +explosion behind him. Whether it was a shot or the exhaust of the sedan +was something he didn’t stop to find out. + +When he was finally clear of the barberry, Bob found himself in a small, +open yard in front of the house, which was heavily shuttered and +evidently unoccupied. But Bob wasted no time in reconnoitering the house. +He kept on going, running around to the rear. + +The iron fence enclosed the whole property but there was a gate and he +made for this. A heavy padlock secured the gate, but Bob scrambled over +without tearing his clothes and dropped into the alley. + +From far behind on the other street he could hear the heavy roar of an +exhaust and he ducked into a half opened garage on the other side of the +alley for he had no intention of being caught out in the open. + +When the noise of the exhaust finally died away, Bob went back into the +alley. A walk of a block and a half brought him to a thoroughfare and he +hailed a passing cab, directing that he be taken to the Department of +Justice building. + +Once inside the cab, Bob sat back to take stock of the damage which the +thorns of the barberry had done to his hands. There were half a dozen raw +angry scratches and innumerable little snags in his suit from the prickly +stuff. + +When he thought of what had happened in the last few minutes, Bob frankly +admitted that he was at a loss to account for it. Why should he be +singled out for an attack by a couple of hoodlums? Why should someone +attempt to enter his room in the night? Perhaps his uncle would have the +key to answers when he met him. + +The cab pulled up in front of the Department of Justice building and Bob +paid the driver and stepped out. Several pedestrians going by looked at +him curiously and he realized that he looked strangely unkempt. + +Bob stepped inside the building. His hands were smarting and he took out +two clean handkerchiefs and wrapped them around his hands. There was +still a little time before his appointment and he turned around and went +to a nearby drug store where he explained that his hands had been +scratched by barberry. A clerk recommended an antiseptic solution and Bob +washed his hands thoroughly in this and then wrapped the handkerchiefs +around them again. + +Back in the Department of Justice building, Bob was whisked to an upper +floor and a boy guided him to the room he inquired for. There was no name +on the glass panel of the doorway and Bob stepped inside, wondering just +what kind of a reception he was going to have. There was no one in the +room when he entered and he sat down in a chair near a window to wait. + +The door opened again and Tully Ross stepped in and stared at Bob. The +surprise was mutual. + +“I didn’t expect to find you here,” exclaimed Tully, and there was no +pleasure in his words. + +“Guess that goes for me, too,” replied Bob. + +Tully took a chair a few feet from Bob and conversation ended right then +and there. For at least ten minutes no word was spoken until an inner +door opened and Merritt Hughes entered. + +“Hello, Bob. Hello, Tully. You’re right on time. Mr. Edgar will be here +in a few minutes.” + +Bob had seen Waldo Edgar, chief of the bureau of investigation of the +Department of Justice several times, but he had never been introduced to +him. Through the exploits of the bureau in recent months in tracking down +some of the nation’s most notorious criminals, Edgar had become an almost +legendary figure for it was from his office far up in the Department of +Justice building, that he directed, by telephone, telegraph and radio, +the great man hunts for the violators of the law. + +Merritt Hughes looked at Bob’s hands. + +“Hurt your hands in the fight last night?” he asked. + +“Nothing like that,” replied Bob. “I got tangled up in a barberry hedge a +few minutes ago and the thorns almost got the better of me. Guess I’ve +ruined this suit.” + +“What under the sun were you doing in a barberry hedge?” the federal +agent wanted to know. + +“Trying to get away from a couple of plug-uglies who seemed to want my +company more than I wanted theirs.” + +“No!” exclaimed his uncle incredulously. + +“Yes!” retorted Bob with equal insistence. “I was taking a short-cut when +a sedan pulled alongside me and one fellow got out and asked about an +address. It was just a stall to get near me, but I had seen the car +parked earlier just opposite the apartment. I was suspicious and when I +thought he got insistent I let him have a couple. The driver started +after me and when I thought he was reaching for a gun I went over the +fence and dove through the barberry.” + +Merritt Hughes whistled softly. + +“This is serious. Have you reported it yet to the police?” + +“No. I thought it was best to come right here and tell you. I didn’t get +the number of the car for I was too busy trying to crash through that +blamed barberry.” + +“That’s not important. They’ve either abandoned the car or changed the +license plates by this time. Can you describe the men who were in it?” + +Bob supplied a detailed explanation and his uncle jotted the facts down +on a small card. + +“This will give us a lead to work on. Later we’ll go over to the bureau +of identification and run through some pictures of red heads and men with +scars on their foreheads. Maybe we can pick up some real clues there.” + +Bob was tempted to relate the incident of the early morning at his room +when someone had tried to gain access, but he hesitated to tell this in +front of Tully. It sounded a little like a fairy tale or the work of an +overwrought imagination. + +The door to an inner suite of offices opened and a dapper, well-built man +of about 38 stepped into the room. Behind him was Condon Adams. + +Bob felt his pulse quicken for even before their introduction he +recognized Waldo Edgar, ace of all the federal manhunters and chief of +the bureau of investigation. + +Edgar looked at the handkerchiefs on Bob’s hands and smiled quizzically. + +“Fighting?” + +“No, just plain barberry thorns,” replied Bob. + +“Then I take it you weren’t strolling on the barberry just for the fun of +the thing,” said the federal chief. + +“Well, it wasn’t exactly a stroll,” grinned Bob. “It was something like +trying to do a hundred yard dash in nothing flat through half an acre of +barberry. It was a good place to hide, but a poor place for running.” + +Waldo Edgar’s eyebrows went up questioningly and he turned to Merritt +Hughes. + +“Does this tie in with what happened last night?” he asked. + +“Apparently. Bob was trailed by a couple of hoodlums in a car. When he +was alone on a side street they waylaid him, but he knocked one out and +jumped over a fence and ran through a barberry patch to escape. He came +here directly after that happened.” + +“Anything else happened since last night?” The question was from the +thin, straight lips of Waldo Edgar and Bob told in detail what had taken +place during the early hours of the morning. + +“Why didn’t you tell me about this, Bob?” exclaimed his uncle. + +Bob flushed. “Well, it seemed like I’d been having enough excitement for +the last twenty-four hours and this sounded sort of crazy.” + +“I’ll say it sounds crazy,” snorted Condon Adams and Bob caught a +supercilious sneer flit across the lips of Tully Ross. It was plain that +neither Adams nor his nephew believed the story and Bob turned back to +the federal chief. + +“There’s nothing crazy about this story. It only confirms our realization +that some tremendously powerful force is after these radio secrets. We +know now that only a part of the secret papers were taken from the file +last night. The others had not been sent over from the radio engineering +division of the War Department.” + +“But how could those papers get out of the office last night?” put in +Condon Adams. + +“That’s for you and Hughes here to determine. You’re on this case, but +I’m going to add a couple of special agents to help you out. It isn’t +that I think you’re not capable, but I believe several inside men in the +archives division will be tremendously helpful to you and I don’t want to +have outsiders go in there.” + +Waldo Edgar turned toward Bob and Tully and looked at them through +searching eyes. His scrutiny of Bob was fairly brief, but he appeared to +be making a more careful appraisal of Tully, and Bob thought he saw just +a flicker of doubt in the federal chief’s eyes. + +“It is decidedly irregular for this division to take on additional men, +and especially very young men, but when we feel a case merits unusual +attention, we do not hesitate to cut away the red tape and employ the +individuals we want to serve us. Bob, would you consider joining the +bureau of investigation as a provisional agent, working directly out of +my office and solely upon this radio case?” + +Bob’s heart went into his throat and he choked in answering. + +“I’d like that very much, sir. I’ll do my best.” + +“I feel sure that you will. Tully, how about you?” + +“Great stuff. Count me in.” + +Waldo Edgar nodded. + +“I thought you would both agree. Wait just a moment.” + +The federal chief left the room and when he returned he had a Bible in +one hand and several small leather cases in another. + +“Place your left hands on the Bible and raise your right hands,” he +directed. Then he read a brief pledge, which they repeated after him. + +The pledge administered, Waldo Edgar handed one of the leather cases to +Tully and the other to Bob. + +“You will find your identification cards in there as well as a small gold +badge. Further instructions will be given you later in the day. I’m +expecting a great deal from each of you.” + +After shaking hands with each of them he hurried away and Bob looked down +at the identification card in the leather case. He was now Bob Houston, +Special Agent Nine. + + + + + Chapter XV + A REAL JOB AHEAD + ★ + + +There was a strange mist in Bob’s eyes as he looked up at his uncle. + +“Shake, Bob. You’ve got a real job ahead of you and I know you’ll come +through with flying colors.” + +“Thanks a lot. This is the biggest thing that has ever come to me and I’m +going to succeed if it is at all possible.” + +There was a grim sort of a chuckle from Tully Ross, who had shoved his +leather case with its card and badge into an inside pocket. + +“You’re going to have to step some if you think you can put anything over +on me.” + +Tully and his uncle left the office and Bob watched the door close behind +them. + +“Nice people,” he grinned. + +“I don’t like the looks of this case,” said his uncle. “It isn’t pleasant +to think that you’ve got someone else in the same department, who goes +out of his way to make it unpleasant for you, working on the same case.” + +“Then why is Adams assigned to team up with you?” asked Bob. + +“Perhaps because we have a habit of getting results,” admitted Merritt +Hughes, with a rueful smile. “We’ve been pretty lucky on a number of +cases where we have worked together. The breaks have been about +fifty-fifty and now we both want a really smashing victory that will +bring us advancement. It looks like this may be the case, but it’s going +to be dangerous business.” + +“What do you mean by that?” + +“Well, look back over the events of the last few hours. We know that an +important paper, containing part of a new radio discovery, was sent over +to your department from the radio engineering division. Before it can be +properly filed, a guard is overpowered and two offices ransacked to find +this paper. Later in the night another attempt is made to enter your room +and this morning there was an attempt to kidnap you. Looks to me like +you’re in a key position, but I don’t know just what it is yet.” + +“I’ll admit the attempt to get into my room last night and the trouble +this morning have me worried,” said Bob. “I’m only a filing clerk so why +such attention should be centered on me is a mystery.” + +They walked out into the corridor. + +“We’ll stop at the bureau of identification and see if we can learn +anything about the fellows who tried to kidnap you,” said the federal +agent. + +They dropped down a floor and entered a long room where a number of +clerks were working at filing cases. + +Merritt Hughes walked up to a slender chap busy at a flat-topped desk. + +“Look alive, Jimmy,” he said. “There’s business at hand.” + +Jimmy Adel, chief of the filing division, looked up. + +“Hello, sleuth. Who are you trailing this morning?” + +“One red head and one fellow with a scar on his forehead.” + +“Now isn’t that a lot of help! Don’t you know that there are a good many +red heads and a whole lot of people with scars on their foreheads? Just +be a little more exact, please.” But he grinned as he chided the federal +agent. + +“Jimmy, this is my nephew, Bob Houston. He’s detailed to help me on a new +case that’s breaking pretty fast.” + +“The radio case?” + +“You hear about that?” + +“Sure, it’s all over the department. Looks big to me. Adams working on it +too?” + +Merritt Hughes nodded. + +“That means you’ll have to step fast. I hear that whoever solves this +thing will be in line for an inspectorship.” + +“Hope you’re right, Jimmy, because Bob and I are going to clear up this +mystery. That is, if you’ll give us a little help. A couple of hoodlums +tried to kidnap Bob a while ago. He can give you an accurate description +of them and you may be able to pull their pictures out of the files.” + +“We’ll find them for you if they’ve any record at all.” He pulled a blank +form from a file and fired question after question at Bob on height, +weight, color of eyes, and any possible peculiarities which they might +have had. When he had finished both forms, he leaned back in his chair. + +“I’d call that an almost perfect description of these chaps. If we don’t +dig them out of the files, I’ll miss my bet. We’ll get something for you +before midnight. Good luck.” + +Bob and his uncle left the identification bureau and took an elevator +down to the main floor. Bob’s hands still smarted from the scratches they +had suffered from the barberry and he kept the handkerchiefs wrapped +around them. + +“I want to drop in at the police station and question the man caught last +night,” said Merritt Hughes, “but we can stop at your apartment on our +way down and give it the once-over. We might find something of interest +in the hall.” + +The federal agent flagged a taxi and they sped swiftly toward Bob’s +apartment. + +“Well, how does it feel to be a federal agent, even though you’re only a +provisional one?” his uncle asked. + +“I’m not quite used to it,” replied Bob, taking out the small leather +case and extracting the card and badge which it contained. + +He turned the badge over carefully in his fingers. His name was engraved +on the back and behind this small emblem stood the mighty law enforcement +machinery of Uncle Sam. Bob thrilled even though he was as yet a small +and comparatively unimportant part of that great system, which was +rapidly building up a worldwide reputation for “getting its man.” + +Merritt Hughes settled back in the cushions. + +“This is likely to be a rather long-drawn out case,” he said, “and from +the way it’s started, it may be extremely dangerous. When it comes to +that, I want you to step aside and let the regular agents take the +chances. Do you understand, Bob?” + +“But I’m not afraid of trouble,” insisted Bob. + +“That isn’t it. When the pinches come we want men who have been tried +under fire in there. You’ll be used as an inside man in the archives +division and in that capacity you are going to be highly important. There +must have been a leak somewhere, else how would it have been known that a +part of the new radio development had been sent over for filing? It will +be up to you to find where this information leaked before Tully Ross and +Condon Adams learn it.” + +The federal agent paused a moment, before continuing. + +“After we find the leak in your department, we’ll have something to work +back on. That should lead us to the man or the men who now have the +papers that disappeared last night.” + +“Won’t the man arrested last night be the key to that?” asked Bob. + +“Perhaps, but I hardly believe so. Usually the boys who do the rough +stuff in a case like this know little of what is really going on. But +we’ll see him a little later. No use in letting anything slip.” + +The cab slowed down in front of the apartment house and Bob’s uncle paid +the taxi bill. + +They walked up to the third floor and then back along the corridor to the +door which opened into Bob’s room. The door was slightly ajar and Merritt +Hughes was about to push it open when Bob seized his arm and put his +finger on his lips. Then he pulled his uncle back several steps. + +“That door was locked when I left,” he whispered. “Someone’s been in my +room.” + +Merritt Hughes looked startled. + +“Sure?” he whispered. + +“There’s no question about it,” replied Bob. + +“Then keep back and let me go ahead.” It was a whispered command that Bob +dared not disobey and he saw his uncle reach under his left arm and draw +a revolver from a shoulder holster. + +They stepped close to the wall and again advanced toward the door, +treading silently on the heavy carpet of the corridor. There was no sound +of anyone moving about inside the room, but Merritt Hughes did not +believe in taking unnecessary chances. + +After listening a moment at the door, he reached out with one foot and +gave it a hard shove inward, at the same time leaping into the doorway, +gun in hand and ready for action. + +It was a breathless moment for Bob until he saw his uncle lower the +weapon and nod to him. + +“Come here and take a look at your room.” + + + + + Chapter XVI + IN BOB’S ROOM + ★ + + +Bob stepped through the doorway, and stopped involuntarily. The interior +of his room looked like a young cyclone had been turned loose on a spring +afternoon. Every drawer in the dresser had been pulled out and its +contents dumped on the floor, the bedding was strewn about the room and +the mattress had been ripped open and even his clothes had been taken out +of the closet and scattered about. + +“Friends of yours must have been disappointed because you weren’t at +home,” said his uncle. + +Bob sat down in a chair and took another look around. Nothing in the room +had been spared. Even the pictures had been taken off the walls and the +backs ripped out. + +He looked down at a coat which had been dropped beside the chair. The +pockets had been turned inside out and the lining of the garment had been +torn and ripped. The coat was ruined and Bob felt hot tears of anger +welling into his eyes. His fists doubled up involuntarily. Someone would +have to pay for this, he told himself. + +Merritt Hughes touched his shoulder. + +“Keep your chin up, Bob. This is kind of tough and it looks plain +malicious to me, but your time will come. I’m just wondering why all of +this attention is being centered on you. I can’t make myself believe that +they are trying to get even with you because you spoiled the game last +night.” + +“But I didn’t. The paper is missing.” + +“Yes, it’s gone from the files, but they may not have their hands on it +yet. Sure you made a thorough search down below the building last night? +It couldn’t have been caught in the shrubbery?” + +“I’m sure about that. We went over every inch of space and found half of +the gum wrappers in Washington,” replied Bob. + +“I wish I could feel sure that the paper has not gotten into the hands of +the men who are after it. From what’s gone on today I’m inclined to +believe there has been a slip somewhere. We know the paper is missing +from the files but we’re not sure that the man who took it was able to +deliver it outside before you caught him.” + +“I don’t think he did. His only chance would have been to have dropped it +from the window and that would have been too risky.” + +“He might have placed it in a marked container of some kind and have had +a confederate waiting below,” suggested the federal agent. + +“That’s possible, but when Arthur Jacobs and I searched last night we +couldn’t even find fresh footprints under the windows. Of course there +were some near the window where the guard was trussed up, but if the +paper had been dropped in a container, there should have been footprints +directly below.” + +“The rain might have erased them.” + +“I doubt it. The ground under the shrubbery is unusually soft and I +noticed how deep our own prints were.” + +Merritt Hughes sat down on the bed and it was a long time before he asked +Bob another question. + +“What do you think about Tully? Could he possibly have taken that paper +out of the file?” + +“Not unless he was a magician and I don’t think Tully would do a thing +like that. He’s wild and headstrong, but he wouldn’t go that far. Why +that’s working against Uncle Sam!” + +“Certainly, but some people aren’t bothered by scruples like that. Well, +if we’re sure the paper wasn’t tossed out the window, it narrows down to +three people—the man you caught, Tully and yourself.” + +“But I wouldn’t take that paper,” smiled Bob. + +“Of course not. I know that and so does Waldo Edgar, or he wouldn’t have +made you a provisional agent. But Condon Adams is as anxious to solve +this case as I am and he may try to hang something around your neck. +Remember, that only three of you were in the room and that paper +disappeared in some manner.” + +“I hadn’t thought of it in that way,” reflected Bob. “It does put me in a +pretty serious light.” + +“That’s why I have been so anxious that you be assigned to work with me +on this case. I had a long talk with Edgar this morning. I’d told him of +your ambition to eventually join the service and pointed out that you +might well prove invaluable as an inside man on this case. He agreed with +me and of course when Condon Adams put up about the same kind of a +proposition in behalf of Tully, he couldn’t say no.” + +“I’d like to know where Adams gets all his pull,” said Bob. + +“Part of it is due to ability and part of it to powerful political +friends,” explained his uncle. “The senator from Adams’ home state is +high up in administration circles and in addition is a firm friend of +this department. He’s helped get us the additional appropriations we’ve +needed to expand and equip the department properly and of course the +chief can’t ignore that when Adams puts the pressure on.” + +“I suppose not,” admitted Bob, “but it seems unfair to the other men who +have no political friends.” + +“His is about the only case in the department in which that is true,” +said his uncle. “But he’s competent, too. Don’t mistake that. I’ll have +to keep on my toes if I run this radio mystery down before he does.” + +“All of which means that I am the inside man for you while Tully is to +serve his uncle in whatever inside capacity he can in our department,” +said Bob. “I can see where there is going to be some intense rivalry.” + +“Well, either Adams or myself should benefit by it,” smiled the federal +agent. “Only don’t kill each other trying to dig out facts and get them +to us first. Now we’d better find out what we can about the invasion +here. How about your landlords?” + +“They’re down in Virginia on a vacation. The only person likely to know +anything about this is the janitor,” explained Bob. + +“Take me down to him,” directed his uncle. + +Bob looked ruefully at the room. There wasn’t a whole lot that could be +salvaged, for his clothing was ruined and one of the suits had been +practically new. He could see his savings account going down almost to +the vanishing point. + +They stepped out into the hall and Bob started to lock the door. + +“Wait a minute. I want a look at that doorknob,” said his uncle. He took +a small but powerful glass from his coat pocket and examined the +doorknob. When he stood up he shook his head. + +“Whoever opened that door was wearing gloves. That means if they were +that smart there isn’t much use to check over the interior of the rooms +for fingerprints.” + +“Any sign of the door being forced?” asked Bob. + +“No. A skeleton key must have been used. Lead on; we’ll see the janitor +now.” + +They found the janitor in the basement and when Bob explained their +mission he readily assented to answer their questions. + +“Strangers?” he said, repeating the question the federal agent asked. +“Yes, a couple of them called about an hour ago. They wanted to know +where Mr. Houston lived and I took them up to the third floor back. They +said they had been sent to get some papers he had left at home.” + +“How did they get in?” the question shot from the lips of the federal +agent. + +“Why, they had a key,” explained the janitor. “One of them said Mr. +Houston had given them his key. It worked all right and I didn’t think +any more about it. I was having trouble with the furnace smoking, so I +came right back down here.” + +“And left them alone in Bob’s room?” the agent pressed. + +“That’s right. They seemed to know what they were about.” + +“How long did they stay up there?” + +“I don’t rightly know. I went up to that floor a few minutes ago, but no +one was in sight then. Maybe they were there half an hour; maybe only +five minutes.” + +“What did they look like?” + +The janitor scratched his head. + +“Well, now, I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to them. One of them +was a lot taller than the other one, though.” + +A premonition had been growing on Bob and he couldn’t repress his +question. + +“Did the taller one have red hair?” he asked. + +“Come to think of it, he did,” replied the janitor. + +“And the shorter one; was there a scar on his forehead?” + +“That’s right. Friends of yours, of course?” + +“Well, not exactly friends,” said Bob. + +“Remember anything else about them?” asked Merritt Hughes. + +“Not right now, anyhow,” said the janitor and they left him to return to +his work while they went outdoors. + +Merritt Hughes was the first to speak. + +“I guess there is no question about the identity of your visitors. They +are the same ones who attempted to kidnap you. What’s the reason for all +of your popularity?” + +Bob shook his head. + +“I only wish I knew,” he said. “Believe me, it is no fun to have your +room torn apart like that. Why they ruined my clothes and it’s going to +be mighty costly getting them repaired.” + +“I’ll help you out if you’re pinched for money,” volunteered his uncle, +reaching for his billfold. + +But Bob waved the offer aside. + +“Thanks, but I’ll get along all right. If I ever catch up with those +fellows they’ll have to get their fists into action pretty fast if they +want to escape a thorough drubbing.” + +“I don’t blame you a bit for feeling that way. But we’ve got to get +along. I have an appointment with one of the army’s chief radio engineers +in less than fifteen minutes and I want you to sit in.” + +They signalled for a cab and started for the meeting which was to reveal +some startling information on Bob’s first case. + + + + + Chapter XVII + THE RADIO SECRET + ★ + + +Merritt Hughes leaned back in the seat as the cab darted in and out of +the heavy traffic on the avenue. + +“All of the breaks have been against us so far,” he mused, half to +himself and half to Bob, “but we’re bound to find something coming our +way soon.” + +“I’m anxious to see the fellow who is being held at the police station,” +said Bob. “Surely you’ll be able to get some information out of him.” + +“Remember you’re working on this case, too. Better say ’we’ instead of +’you’ when you’re talking about it. This is the firm of Hughes and +Houston, working for Uncle Sam on a radio mystery.” + +Their cab pulled up in front of the War Department and they entered and +hastened to an upper floor where the federal agent rapped sharply on a +door marked “Major Francis McCreary, Private.” + +“Come in,” a heavy voice on the other side rumbled and Merritt Hughes +opened the door. + +Bob, looking in, saw a heavy man, a huge thatch of hair bristling over +his forehead, at a flat-topped desk. He rose as they entered. + +“Hello, Hughes,” greeted the major. “Right on time.” He nodded toward a +desk clock. + +“Made it with nothing to spare,” grinned Bob’s uncle. Then he added, +“Major, I want you to know my nephew, Bob Houston. He’s working with me +on this case. Bob’s the man who captured our radio thief last night and +I’m counting on him as a valuable inside man in the department over +there.” + +“Glad to meet you,” boomed the major, offering a warm handclasp. “Are you +in the Department of Justice?” + +Bob started to reply but his uncle spoke first. + +“He’s in the filing division right now, but he’s also a provisional agent +and I’m expecting he’ll join the service permanently.” + +The major shuffled several papers on his desk and picked up one. + +“Here’s a copy of the paper stolen last night,” he said. “I know you want +the gist of its importance and why so much interest attaches to it.” + +He waved them toward chairs and dropped back in his own swivel seat, +which he filled to overflowing with his generous bulk. + +“We’ve been making some real strides in our army radio development,” he +went on, “and some other powers have been watching us closely. There’s no +need to mention names right now until suspicion definitely points to a +nation. What we have actually perfected in recent weeks is a workable +radio control for robot operated bombing planes.” + +He paused a moment to let the significance of his statement sink in. + +Bob knew its importance. Of course there had long been talk that such a +device was possible, but it had never been perfected so far as he knew. +Its value as a weapon of destruction was tremendous for airplanes loaded +with high explosives could be dispatched over great distances and then +made to drop their deadly cargoes upon a radio signal. + +Bob glanced at his uncle. Merritt Hughes was sitting on the edge of his +chair, waiting for the army officer to continue. + +Major McCreary cleared his throat and Bob sensed that he was laboring +under a definite strain. + +“This project has been a pet of mine for years. I’ve encountered one +discouragement after another and it was only two months ago that I struck +the right track. Since then my developments have been almost +sensational.” He paused a moment as though fearing they might feel he was +bragging about his own accomplishments. + +“Actual tests last week proved the practicability of my invention and I +then set it down in detail for final filing. Of course we knew that other +powers were aware of the line along which the experiments had been +carried out, but our real source of worry was that they might get their +hands on the actual details of operation. For that reason it was decided +to file the material in various sections and to make no special fuss +about it.” + +“And the paper stolen last night was the first section of your file?” +asked Merritt Hughes, restraining his eagerness no longer. + +The army officer nodded. + +“Right. It was the original. The one on my desk is a copy. The other +originals are in a safe in this building.” + +“Is there enough information on the first section which was stolen to +reveal your plan in full?” asked Bob. + +“That’s something that would depend upon the cleverness of the men into +whose hands it is delivered. There is one European power whose radio +experts are well advanced along the line on which I have been working. If +this document is delivered into their hands, there is a good chance that +it contains information which would be of value to them.” + +“But so far we have no idea who is behind the theft last night,” said the +federal agent. “Have you any hunches?” + +Major McCreary shook his head. + +“Nothing strong enough to give you any leads. But I’ll let you know the +minute anything develops. In the meantime, make every effort to recover +this paper. Once it passes beyond the boundaries of this country it may +fall into the hands of men smart enough and unscrupulous enough to learn +its meaning and put it to their own selfish use. It is a secret which +would give them unlimited powers of destruction.” + +After they had left Major McCreary’s office Bob looked at his uncle. + +“What next?” he asked. + +“To the police station to interview that prisoner without any further +loss of time,” was the decision. + +The station was some distance away and they took a taxi. Before they had +gone three blocks the hooting of police sirens fairly filled the air and +their driver was forced to pull far over to the right as radio cars went +racing past, each driver tense at his wheel and the other officer ready +with a shotgun in his lap. + +“Something big’s broken,” said the federal agent. “Be just my luck to +have it an angle on this case. Oh well, we might as well go on to the +station and see what we can dig out of your friend.” + +As they reached the police station another squad car rushed away, its +siren screaming a warning to traffic. + +Merritt Hughes fairly tossed the cab fare at the driver and with Bob at +his heels, ran into the building. The federal agent knew the desk +sergeant and directed his questions at him. + +“What’s up, Barney? Bank been robbed?” + +“Just about as bad. Someone slugged one of your agents and made a break. +Matter of fact, I guess it was a friend of yours.” + +“Quit kidding, Barney. What happened?” + +“The fellow you caught last night was being questioned by Condon Adams +when all of a sudden he ups and smashes Adams a nasty crack on the chin, +grabs his gun, and legs it out the door. We’ve got every squad car in +town out hunting for him.” + +Bob felt his own heart sink for he knew that unless the fugitive was +recaptured, their hopes for a real break in the radio mystery were slim. + + + + + Chapter XVIII + MEAGER HOPES + ★ + + +Merritt Hughes stared hard at the police sergeant as though he dared not +believe the officer’s words. + +“Say that again, Barney. There must be some mistake.” + +“There was,” grinned the sergeant. “Condon Adams made a mistake in +questioning that fellow alone. Things certainly happened fast and +furiously around here.” + +The federal agent shook his head. + +“We’re certainly not getting the breaks in this case,” he growled. +“Where’s Adams?” + +“He’s out with one of the radio patrols.” + +“Have any idea where this fellow went when he made his break from the +station here?” + +“He forced a passing motorist to pick him up, but we didn’t even get a +good description of the car. Oh, it was a smooth job.” + +Merritt Hughes turned to his nephew and Bob saw an expression of almost +despair in his face. Then it was gone in a moment, and in its place was a +set look of determination which Bob had often seen when his uncle was +working on a big case. + +“Anything I can do to help you here?” the federal agent asked the desk +sergeant. + +“Not a thing, unless this fellow comes back and tries to steal the +station.” + +“Then we’ll go along to the hospital and have a talk with the guard who +was attacked last night.” + +As they left the police station they could hear the echo of the sirens in +the distance. + +“Think he’ll get away?” asked Bob, who had spoken only once or twice +during the entire time they had been in the station. + +“I’m afraid so, especially since the police have no description of the +car he commandeered,” replied Merritt Hughes. + +When they reached the hospital, they were shown immediately to the room +where the guard was a patient. He was a middle-aged man, his dark hair +streaked with grey and there was a bandage around his forehead where he +had received a particularly painful blow from his assailant. + +“Can he be interviewed?” the federal agent asked the nurse on duty in the +room. + +“If he doesn’t talk too long,” she replied. + +Bob glimpsed the chart at the foot of the bed and learned that the +guard’s name was Max Chervinka, and that he was fifty-three years old. + +Merritt Hughes sat down beside the bed, while Bob, behind him, leaned +against the wall. + +“I’ll ask all the questions,” the federal agent told the guard. “Don’t +talk unless you have to. Just nod a little in answer and that will do. +Understand?” + +The guard smiled and nodded. + +“Had you noticed anything suspicious about the building recently?” + +The answer was negative. Then the federal agent plunged into his +questions, how had the attack taken place, what did the man look like, +was there more than one, had he seen anything of a paper which might have +been tossed from an upper window? + +The answers were definite. The guard could not describe his assailant, as +far as he knew there had been only one man, and he had not seen anything +of a paper thrown from a window. + +“Have you ever been offered anything to let anyone in the building who +had no business there?” The federal agent rapped out this question +sharply and Bob knew that his uncle attached great importance to the +answer. + +“Never!” The guard’s reply, though in a weak voice, was definite. “There +was never any trouble until last night,” he added. + +The nurse re-entered the room, noticed the bright eyes and the flushed +cheeks of her patient, and spoke to the federal agents. + +“I think he’s had all of the exertion he can stand for a while,” she +said. “Later, perhaps this evening, you might call again if you like.” + +“Has anyone else been here?” asked Merritt Hughes. + +“Not yet.” + +“Then don’t allow anyone to see him unless he can identify himself as a +Department of Justice agent,” he instructed. + +When they were down on the main floor, Bob spoke. + +“Why did you instruct the nurse like that?” + +“Just playing safe. We know that the guard didn’t see enough of his +assailant to identify him, but other members of that gang don’t know +that. There is no use in exposing that fellow to any unnecessary risks.” + +When they were outside once more, Bob voiced another question. + +“What do you want me to do now?” + +“Better go down to your own office and step back into the routine. But +keep your eyes open. Listen to everything that is going on, but don’t let +anyone get anything out of you. Phone me before you leave this afternoon +to go home. I don’t want you gallivanting around this town all alone. The +next time some of your ’friends’ may come along and there may not be a +fence and a thicket of barberry handy.” + +“I’ll take a taxi home; you won’t need to come for me,” protested Bob. + +“You’re not going to take a taxi home and you’re not going home. Until +this thing is cleared up you’re going to stay with me. Then if anyone +decides to pay us a visit in the middle of the night we’ll give them a +surprise.” + +“Let me know if anything big breaks,” urged Bob, and his uncle promised +to do this. + +After their parting, Bob walked down the street alone. A police car sped +by, but its siren was not sounding an alarm, and Bob wondered if the rush +of the first chase for the escaped prisoner was over. + +As he hurried toward the archives building, he pondered the events of the +last 24 hours. It seemed almost incredible that so much could have +happened; that he could have been involved in so many different and +exciting things. And now he was a federal agent. True he was only on +provisional duty, but if he made good, there was an excellent chance that +he would become a permanent member of the great crime-fighting +organization. + +His uncle had been right—so far the breaks had all been against them and +now the one man on whom they had been counting for information had +slipped away. But Bob couldn’t help a grin as he thought of the chagrin +which Condon Adams must be suffering now. It would be hard to explain +that escape from the very heart of a police station. + +Bob turned into the building where his own office was located and took +the elevator to the top floor. + +When he entered the office he almost bumped into Arthur Jacobs, the +filing chief. + +“Any news?” asked Jacobs anxiously and Bob shook his head. + +“What about the prisoner captured last night?” + +“Don’t you know?” asked Bob. + +“Know what?” demanded the filing chief. + +“He just escaped from the police station.” + +“Then we’re sunk,” groaned the filing chief. “That means that paper is +gone for good and I’ll bet my job is too.” + +“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Give the federal men a chance.” + +“But they’ve had nearly 24 hours,” wailed the chubby Jacobs. + +“You can’t expect them to do miracles in that length of time,” cautioned +Bob. + +Before the filing chief could reply, the door swung inward and Tully Ross +hurried in. + +His face was flushed and he appeared to be laboring under some great +excitement. + +Arthur Jacobs looked at his watch. + +“You might just as well have taken the whole day off,” he snapped. + +“Well, maybe I will,” retorted Tully. + +“I guess that’s about enough from you,” said the filing chief. “I’ll find +plenty of extra work for you to do and you may change your attitude and +show a little respect.” + +A dark wave of color swept over Tully’s face and Bob saw his fists +clench. He stepped closer to Jacobs. + +“I’ll get here just when I please,” he stormed, “and don’t think I’m +going to let you boss me around. I’m a federal agent now and I’m working +on a big case. Don’t you forget that.” + +But in spite of the bravado, Arthur Jacobs stood his ground. + +“I don’t care what you are,” he replied. “As far as I know you’re nothing +but a clerk in my department and you’ll get to work on time and you’ll be +respectful or you’ll get another job.” + +“If you don’t believe I’m a federal agent, ask Bob; he’ll tell you.” + +The filing chief turned to Bob. + +“Tully is right. I saw him sworn into the service today,” said Bob. He +was glad that Jacobs had not asked him about his own position. + +Tully seemed satisfied and his anger subsided when Jacobs once more told +him to go to his desk and start work. + +Bob glanced at the other clerks in the room. All of them had been +covertly watching the entire proceedings. Bob felt that they were all +trustworthy, but he felt better in knowing that they were not aware that +he was a federal agent. Such knowledge might have spoiled any later +efforts of his to gain information from them. + + + + + Chapter XIX + THE MISSING PAPER + ★ + + +The affairs of the filing office gradually returned to routine with Bob +and Tully once more at their desks. There was a tremendous amount of work +to be done, for hundreds upon hundreds of papers had been removed from +their usual places in the mêlée of the night before. Bob realized that it +would take days for them all to be restored to their places and he rather +hoped, as he contemplated the long and tedious task, that his uncle would +have work for him to do that would take him outside the office. + +As the afternoon waned Bob tried to analyze the character of the other +clerks in the office. He had known them casually for more than a year +now, but until this time he had never really tried to probe into their +inner characters. + +It was a task that he was particularly well fitted to do, for he had a +rare gift of discernment of character and anything untrue in another +usually sounded an alarm bell in Bob’s mind. + +One by one he checked them off his list of possible suspects in +connection with the disappearance of the radio paper. Could one of them +have tipped off anyone outside? It was an unpleasant possibility, but Bob +knew that in his new work he would be up against many unpleasant things. + +The list narrowed down until Bob’s eyes rested on Tully’s broad +shoulders. The other was hunched over his desk, apparently gazing through +a nearby window and certainly not much concerned with the work on the +desk in front of him. + +Was Tully linked up with the mystery? Could he have been the one inside +who had learned of the arrival of the precious paper and given the +information to someone outside? + +Bob didn’t want to believe that, yet he had checked all of the others off +his list. His eyes rested on Arthur Jacobs, the filing chief. Could it +have been Jacobs? It was possible, but Bob scouted serious consideration +of the thought, for Jacobs’ heart was too much in his work and his pride +was too great for such a deed. + +Bob felt up against a blank wall. It was his job to sit tight in the +office on the supposition that someone inside must have given out +information. He felt now that there was little chance that this had been +the case. There were plenty of other loopholes for the information to +leak out and Bob was convinced that it must have leaked before the paper +came into the filing office. + +At five o’clock the other clerks left their desks, but Tully, Bob and the +filing chief lingered in the office. + +Jacobs spoke to Tully. + +“I don’t care what you’re doing outside this office,” he said, “but as +long as you’re here and at your desk you’ll have to work. I don’t believe +you did five minutes work this afternoon.” + +Tully’s eyes dropped and he studied the toes of his shoes. His voice was +heavy when he spoke. + +“I know I didn’t get much work done,” he said. “But I was so blamed +excited over being a federal agent and then trying to figure out how this +information could have leaked out. I’ll be back to earth again tomorrow.” + +“I’m glad of that for we need your help in getting this mess straightened +out.” + +Tully nodded and went on, while Bob hesitated. + +“I wanted just a word with you alone,” he told the filing chief. “I +didn’t say anything earlier, but I’m also working on this case as a +provisional federal agent. That means I’m on probation. If I make good on +this case there may be a permanent job waiting for me.” + +“I rather thought you might be,” smiled Jacobs, “after Tully blurted out +that he was a special agent. I kind of put two and two together and it +looked like it would be mighty strange if Tully were selected and not +you.” + +“It may be necessary for me to be away from the office at various times,” +went on Bob, “but if I can’t get word to you, my uncle will see that you +are advised.” + +“Anything that really looks like a clue turned up?” asked Jacobs. + +Bob shook his head. + +“Not as far as I know, and I guess if there had been I wouldn’t be at +liberty to tell you.” + +Jacobs put on his coat. + +“Coming down tonight?” + +“I’ve some routine I can get out of the way,” replied Bob. “I’ll have +lunch nearby and will be able to get through in a couple of hours.” + +“I should come back, but I’m all in. Don’t work too late.” + +The filing chief stepped out of the office and closed the door behind him +and Bob was left alone in the long, high-ceilinged office. The room was +in heavy shadows already, for the day had been cloudy and twilight had +come early. He turned on the light over his desk, decided that he was +hungry, snapped it off, put on his coat and left the office. At the door +he turned and made sure that the room was securely locked. Then he walked +rapidly down the corridor, turned, and signalled for an elevator. + +Bob was walking through the main doors when someone hailed him and he saw +his uncle. + +“Going to eat?” asked Merritt Hughes. + +“Just about half a ton of food,” grinned Bob. “It seems ages since I had +anything, yet it was only a few hours ago.” + +“Charge that up to excitement,” replied his uncle, as they strode along +together. + +“Any news of the man who broke out of the police station?” There was a +real note of anxiety in Bob’s voice. + +“Not a word. He must have been a magician. The police are still combing +the city, but I doubt if they’ll find him. He belongs to too clever a +gang.” + +“But where could he hide so securely in Washington?” + +“An embassy, possibly,” shrugged the federal agent. + +Bob’s eyes widened. It had never occurred to him that a representative of +a foreign government would give shelter to a criminal. Yet he knew that +any one of half a dozen foreign powers would give a great deal to possess +the new radio secrets. + +“Don’t take that suggestion too seriously,” warned Merritt Hughes, who +guessed the trend of Bob’s thoughts. + +He leaned closer to Bob. “This case is causing all kinds of trouble. The +entire War Department is in a furore and I hear special intelligence +officers are being assigned to see if they can’t ferret it out.” + +“Does that mean they don’t think the Justice Department capable of +solving the mystery?” asked Bob. + +“Not exactly that, I guess. It simply means that this case is of such +tremendous importance that everything the government can do will be done +in its solution.” + +They turned into a quiet restaurant and selected a table well to the rear +where they could talk without danger of being overheard for there were +only a few diners in the place. + +“Have you seen Condon Adams?” asked Bob. + +The federal agent shook his head. + +“I hear he’s having a pretty hard time of it. The chief had him in on the +carpet and gave him a going over for letting this fellow slip away from +him. But it could have happened to anyone. If we’d gotten there first +instead of Adams, we might have been the victims.” + +They ordered their dinners and Bob leaned across the table. + +“I’ve been trying to figure out everyone in the office,” he said, “and I +can’t find a single one on whom you can pin any suspicion. The leak about +that paper must have come from outside before the paper reached us.” + +“That’s possible,” nodded his uncle. + +“Remember that another office was rifled before our own was visited,” +said Bob. “That should indicate that the marauder had none too clear +information on where to look for the paper.” + +“Now you’ve hit a point I’ve been considering. The more I think about it +the more convinced I become that the leak came before the paper reached +your filing room. That means our job will be complicated. Maybe we’ll get +a break one of these days.” + +Dinner was served and they ate heartily, ignoring for the time the case +that had enfolded both of them in its mysterious tangle. + +The dinner at an end, Bob leaned back in his chair and shoved his hands +in his coat pockets. The fingers of his right hand crinkled a stiff sheet +of paper and he drew it out and placed it on the table. + +It was not an unusual sheet, at first glance, being about eight inches +wide and eleven inches long, but it was of heavy material, probably a +pure rag paper. + +But it was not the paper that caught and held Bob’s attention. It was the +crest of the War Department which was centered at the top of the page. + +Merritt Hughes saw Bob staring at the paper and looked at his nephew +curiously. + +“What’s the matter, Bob? Forget to file something this afternoon?” + +When Bob did not answer at once, he reached over and picked up the paper. +It was his turn to stare at the sheet and his eyes widened as he looked +up at his nephew. + +“Great heavens, Bob. Where did this come from?” + +Bob shook his head. + +“I haven’t any idea. I put my hands in my pockets just now and the paper +was in the right hand pocket.” + +“But you know what this is?” + +Bob nodded. “Yes, I know. It’s the missing paper with the radio secrets.” + + + + + Chapter XX + ON A LONELY STREET + ★ + + +Uncle and nephew stared at each other across the litter of dishes and for +a moment neither was able to speak. + +“Bob, Bob, how did you get mixed up in this thing? What have you done?” +There was anxiety and agony in every word that came from the lips of the +federal agent. + +Bob’s eyes widened. + +“But surely you don’t think I took this? I couldn’t have done that.” + +His uncle waved his hands impatiently. + +“No, no, Bob. Of course that wasn’t what I meant. I spoke hastily. You’re +clean enough in this thing. What I want to know is how did that paper get +into your coat pocket and how long has it been there.” + +“I only wish I knew,” retorted Bob, the color surging back into his +cheeks. + +He stared steadily at the paper on the table before him. It was +incredible that it could have been in his coat pocket all during the long +hours of the frantic search for it. Yet it must have been, for there had +been no opportunity for anyone to slip it into his coat recently. + +“I think the discovery of the paper in your pocket explains the +mysterious attacks which have been aimed at you,” said his uncle slowly. +“Certainly it was the reason for the rifling of your room and the attempt +to kidnap you this morning. What a dumb-bell I was not to have guessed +something like this before. It’s as plain as day now.” + +“I wish I could see it that way,” replied Bob, shaking his head. + +“The paper has been in your pocket ever since you encountered that +marauder in the office last night. During the tussle he slipped it into +your coat pocket when he realized that his capture was inevitable.” + +“That sounds plausible,” agreed Bob. “Why didn’t I search my own +clothes?” + +“Because that was the last place in the world we would have surmised that +paper had been hidden. What chumps we have been.” The federal agent look +gloomy. + +“Well, I guess we might as well get going. We’ll report this directly to +the chief and see what he has to say about it.” + +“Will he be on the job during the evening?” + +“When a case like this breaks he practically lives in his office. He’ll +be there all right.” + +They left the restaurant, secured a taxi, and drove rapidly toward the +Department of Justice building. + +Bob, catching the reflection of lights behind them in the mirror at the +front, looked back. + +“Someone’s following us,” he said. + +The federal agent turned quickly. There was no mistake. A car several +hundred feet to the rear was making every turn their own machine took. + +Merritt Hughes leaned ahead and spoke to the driver. + +“We’re being trailed. Step on it. I’ll take care of any officers who try +to stop us.” + +“Nothing doin’, mister. I’m not getting myself into trouble. We’re +stopping right here.” + +The driver slammed on the brakes and swung his car toward the curb, but a +curt command from Bob’s uncle stopped him. + +“Get this car under way. I’m a federal agent and I’m in no mood to have +you playing any tricks. Wheel this buggy for the Department of Justice +building and make it snappy.” At the same time he thrust the little +emblem of his office under the driver’s nose. + +The motor of the taxi roared as the driver tramped on the accelerator and +their vehicle leaped ahead, widening the distance between the car which +was trailing them. They took a corner so fast the tires screeched in +protest and Bob wondered whether the other machine would be able to make +the turn. + +Looking back he saw the car swing wildly, veer toward the far side of the +street, and finally straighten out in pursuit of them. + +“You seem to spell ’trouble’ with capital letters,” said the federal +agent as he joined Bob in peering out the window. “Maybe you’d better +give me that paper. They know you’ve got it and if we get in a jam +they’ll try and get it away from you.” + +Bob handed over the paper and his uncle slipped it into a small leather +portfolio which he carried in an inside pocket of his coat. + +The taxi swung wildly around another corner and the brakes screeched as a +string of red lights barred their way. The street was undergoing repairs. + +The driver of their vehicle jammed on his brakes just as the pursuing +machine lurched around the corner. + +“Keep on going!” cried Bob’s uncle, grabbing the driver by the shoulder +and shaking him roughly. “Keep on!” + +It was a command the driver dared not disobey, and their car leaped ahead +once more, aimed straight at the first of the red lights. + +Their headlights revealed a wooden barrier, but there was no stopping now +and the taxi crashed into the stringers. Several red lights were bowled +over as the barrier went down. Then they were bouncing along over the +uneven paving, the wheels dropping into deep ruts. + +Bob turned and looked behind them. The pursuing car had stopped at the +barrier and he could see men leaping out. It was evident that they +intended to pursue the chase, even on foot. + +“I’m wrecking this car,” cried the taxi driver in protest as they struck +a particularly deep rut. + +“Keep going; don’t worry about the car!” cried Merritt Hughes. “We’ve got +to get out of this trap.” + +The engine of the taxi groaned in protest of the punishment which it was +undergoing, but it labored on, dragging the heavy vehicle out of one hole +and into another. + +Bob kept his eyes on the pursuers, who were now plainly revealed in the +lights from the other car. They seemed to be gaining on the struggling +taxi. + +“We’d better take a chance on foot,” he warned his uncle. + +“It’s only a little ways to the end of this construction work. If we can +get that far, we’ll soon outdistance them,” replied Merritt Hughes. “If +we get stalled, make a break for it. Don’t worry about me. Once you get +clear go directly to the Department of Justice and report in person to +Waldo Edgar.” + +“But we’ll have a better chance together,” protested Bob. + +“No. We’ll go it alone,” his uncle decided. “That will confuse them and +one of us is bound to get away.” + +“But how about the radio secret?” + +“We’ve got to chance that. But remember that you are the one they’ll be +after. Maybe that’s putting you on the spot, but I’ve got to do it now. +It’s our only chance.” + +The headlights of the taxi showed the end of the construction work. A +smooth street was less than 100 feet ahead of them, but Bob thought the +remainder of the distance they must go looked even rougher than that +portion of the street they had negotiated so far. + +He looked behind again. Several dim shadows, the men chasing them, were +dodging down the street. He doubted if they were gaining now. + +The taxi dropped into a deep rut and the engine groaned. The driver +shifted gears with a clash that racked the entire car and the wheels spun +in the rut. Then they shot into reverse, but the wheels couldn’t climb +out. + +“We’re stuck!” cried the driver. “I’m unloading.” + +With a single motion of his hand he struck the ignition switch and the +motor, overheated and steaming, sputtered and died. The headlights also +went out and Bob saw the now dim bulk of the cab driver leap away from +the car and vanish. + +“Get out, Bob. Duck and keep low. Make for the side of the street. Here’s +where we separate.” + +The order was accompanied by a firm shove toward the door and then Bob +was rolling in the street, for he had missed his step and fallen. He +heard the door on the other side of the cab open and knew that his uncle +had made his escape at least for the time. + + + + + Chapter XXI + SHOTS IN THE NIGHT + ★ + + +The street was long, flanked by what appeared to be warehouses, and there +were street lights only at the ends of the block. For at least 400 feet +in the middle there was no light and it was in this dismal area that Bob +and his uncle were trapped. + +A pile of construction materials offered the first shelter for Bob and he +ducked behind this. + +From this shelter, he listened for some sound from the men who had been +pursuing them. He did not have long to wait for sharp voices could be +heard a little further back along the street. + +“The taxi’s stalled,” someone said. “Spread out and let them have it if +they make a break. We’ve got to get them to be sure we’ll get the paper.” + +Bob, behind the pile of construction materials, heard someone pounding +down the street. + +The beam from a flashlight shot through the night and focused on the taxi +driver. + +“Snap off that light!” came a tense command. “That’s only the driver. Let +him go.” + +“He’ll bring the cops on us,” came a sharp protest, but the first voice +came back tartly. + +“Let him. We’ll be out of here long before he can get his nerve back and +talk to the police. Spread out, I tell you. We’ve got to move fast. If +they break for the far end of the street we’ll see them under the street +lights. There’s no place they can hide at each side.” + +The last words confirmed Bob’s fears. That meant that there was no +shelter in the buildings which flanked the street. This time there was no +friendly hedge into which he could leap. He would have been glad to have +risked the barberry thorns again if he had only had the chance. + +The taxi was less than twenty feet away and Bob knew that the men hunting +for him and his uncle would reach it in a few more seconds. Then one of +the first places where they would search would be the pile of bricks and +timbers behind which he had sought refuge. + +Bob moved away cautiously, a plan of action quickly forming in his mind. +He would get as far away as possible, then make some noise to attract +their attention. It seemed like a good move for by concentrating their +attention on himself, he would provide an opportunity for his uncle to +slip away unnoticed and the radio document could be delivered safely back +to the War Department. + +Bob felt a nervous tension gripping his entire body. It was as though the +very night was alive to the danger which filled the deserted street. The +pounding footsteps of the taxi driver gradually died away and only Bob +and his uncle and three unknown pursuers were in the street. + +A flashlight gleamed for a moment at the taxi as the beam sought the +interior. + +“Nothing here,” Bob heard someone mutter as he backed away from the +sheltering pile of materials. + +A piece of board crunched under his feet and he stumbled and half fell to +the ground. + +“What’s that!” the exclamation was sharp and commanding and a beam of +light swung toward him. + +Bob forgot caution and scuttled away on his hands and feet, dodging +behind the piles of dirt which had been heaped indiscriminately around +the street. + +The flashlight seemed to be playing a game of hide and seek with him, for +not once did the beam strike him and he found temporary shelter again +behind a pile of bricks. + +But the sanctuary was not to last for long. From the voices near the +taxi, Bob knew that at least three men were after them and as he listened +he heard a command that sent a chill racing along his spine. + +“Don’t shoot unless you have to. But let them have it if it looks like +they’re going to get away.” + +Bob remembered that his uncle had a gun. That was some consolation. He +would have to depend upon his fists for self protection and right now +both hands were sore and aching from his encounter earlier in the day +with the thorns of the barberry. + +The young federal agent crouched close to the ground listening for some +sound that might indicate the whereabouts of his uncle. He only knew that +Merritt Hughes had dodged out the other side of the taxi. Since then +there had been no sign or noise to reveal where he had sought shelter. + +Bob strained his eyes, but the darkness in the middle of the block was +intense. Perhaps, after all, that was a blessing for it gave them a +better opportunity to hide and made the task of the searchers all the +harder. + +Impatient and cramped from hiding behind the pile of bricks, Bob moved +away. He was determined to escape from the trap into which they had +fallen and he decided that by working his way back along the street +toward the car which had been used by their pursuers might offer the best +avenue of escape. + +A bold thought occurred. It might even be possible to seize their car and +make his own escape. + +Bob, crouching low, crept along the street, at times almost crawling. It +wasn’t a pleasant task, but he was steadily putting distance between +himself and the stalled taxi, where he knew the hunt for his uncle and +himself was being concentrated. + +The young federal agent stumbled over a timber and sprawled headlong on +the dirt. + +To Bob it sounded as though the noise of his fall must have echoed and +re-echoed along the street. He remained motionless, almost breathless on +the ground, waiting for the pursuit to swing toward him. But evidently +the noise of his tumble was not as great as he had feared and the hunt +continued near the taxi. + +Bob continued his cautious advance toward the car which had brought their +pursuers. He was not certain whether anyone had been left to guard the +machine and he moved carefully as he neared the vehicle. + +He was now at least 200 feet from the stalled taxi, and he had no desire +to give an alarm which would bring the others swarming toward him. + +Bob now had decided what he would do when he reached the car. In turning +it about he would race the engine, which would be sure to attract the +attention of the men seeking his uncle and allow him to escape from the +far end of the street. There should be ample time for Bob to maneuver the +car about and get it started back down the street before he could be +overhauled. + +The young federal agent was less than twenty feet from the car, close +enough to hear the soft purring of its powerful engine, when a gun blazed +from behind him and the echoes of a shot resounded between the buildings +which flanked the street. + + + + + Chapter XXII + THE LONE STRUGGLE + ★ + + +All thoughts of escaping in the car vanished from Bob’s mind on the +echoes of the shot, which meant that his uncle had been discovered, that +he was a target for gunfire from the guns of their pursuers. + +The young federal agent swung about in his tracks and started back down +the street, stumbling over the piles of debris as he raced forward, +forgetful now of any danger to himself and thinking only of his chance to +help his uncle protect the precious paper which was in his possession. + +From the vicinity of the stalled taxi cab guns were barking steadily now +and Bob paused. + +The scarlet flashes marked the night and the sharp reports from the guns +rang back and forth between the high-walled street. Bob counted three +guns in action, all directed toward a darker mass near the far end of the +street. + +Then another gun joined in the fusillade, this time from what apparently +was a pile of debris and from its heavy roar Bob knew that it was his +uncle’s automatic. + +Merritt Hughes, who had made his way cautiously toward the far end of the +street, had been discovered just before he could make a final break to +safety. After the first shot from the guns of his pursuers, he had taken +refuge behind a pile of bricks and concrete slabs, where he was ready to +make a determined resistance. + +If he could stand off the attack for several minutes, a swarm of police, +attracted by the gunfire, would descend upon them. But the men in the +street were shooting carefully and spreading out, attempting to encircle +him and force his surrender. They were moving rapidly, dodging so quickly +that it was almost impossible to single them out in the shadows or to +flip an accurate shot at them. + +His ammunition was confined to the one clip in his gun and a spare clip +in his coat pocket. It wouldn’t last long in an encounter with three +gunmen and every shot must be made to count. + +A close shot, which struck a slab of concrete, threw a fine cloud of dust +into his eyes and blinded him for the moment. He wondered about Bob and +whether he had been able to make his escape. If he hadn’t before this, +now surely, with all of the firing, he would be able to escape from the +street. Perhaps he would even be able to lead the rescuing police which +he felt sure would come soon. + +But Bob, at the other end of the street, had his own ideas about the +police and the need for a hasty rescue. + +He paused in his mad dash down the block. Unarmed, he would be no match +for the gunmen who were attempting to surround his uncle and obtain the +paper. + +A new plan formed in Bob’s mind and he turned determinedly and headed for +the car. It was a large and powerful sedan with a motor under its hood +that equalled the power of a hundred and twenty horses. + +There was no one in the car and Bob slid into the driver’s seat. The +doors were unusually high and heavy and he guessed that the car was +bullet proof. + +Bob reached for the headlight switch, then thought better of it, and +meshed the gears into low. He tramped on the throttle and the motor +roared into action. With a lurch the heavy car plunged off the pavement +and into the street which was undergoing repairs. + +Bob would have liked to have used the headlights for they would have +revealed the menace of hidden mounds of dirt and bricks and other +construction materials, but to have switched them on would have made the +car too easy a target for the gunmen. + +Looking ahead, Bob saw the flashes of gunfire cease, as though the men +who had been pulling the triggers were surprised and alarmed at the +approach of the car. + +Then there was a spurt of flame and something smacked hard against the +windshield. He saw the glass shatter, but it did not break, and it gave +him new confidence in the knowledge that the car was protected against +bullets. + +Now there were more flashes of crimson ahead of him and bullets spanked +against the car. The glass of a headlight shattered into a thousand bits. + +The big machine rammed into a pile of bricks and stalled. They were only +half way down the block and Bob reversed quickly and backed the car away. +With a sharp flip of the wheel he skirted the obstruction and once more +roared ahead, the car gaining speed as it went along in second gear. + +The roar of the motor was so loud that it drowned out the explosions of +the guns. + +Bob, watching for some sign of his uncle, thought he saw a form flit +toward the side of the street, but he couldn’t be sure. + +The car bounced in and out of a ditch, the wheels spinning frantically +and finally gaining enough traction to send it ahead once more. + +The windshield, which had been struck four times, was a maze of shattered +glass, and Bob could see only dimly the light which marked the end of the +street. It was impossible to discern anything ahead of him and he turned +on the headlights. It didn’t matter much now, for the car was too large a +target to miss. + +But the lights failed to come on. Some bullet had probably clipped the +wires, and Bob, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, hung on +grimly as the big car bounced along the uneven street. + +There was a jarring crash and the big car, its wheels still spinning +futilely, came to a stop. Bob was knocked against the steering wheel and +his head reeled from the shock. + +Dimly he heard someone jerk open the door and he tried to rally his +dulled senses and put up a resistance, but a rough hand reached him and +seized him by the shoulders. He was conscious that a light blazed +suddenly in his face. + +“It’s the kid!” cried the heavy voice. “I’ll search him. Get the other +guy!” + +Bob was jerked from the car and dropped to the ground. Once more the +flashlight blazed, this time shielded behind a pile of bricks, and heavy +hands went through his pockets. + +As his head cleared, Bob realized his situation. Resistance right now to +the search might give his uncle a few more precious minutes and Bob +suddenly doubled up his knees and aimed a heavy kick at the man who was +bending over him. + +The maneuver caught the other unaware, and he stumbled back against the +pile of bricks. The flashlight, dropping to the ground, went out. + +“Give me a hand, over here! The kid’s busted my flashlight,” called the +man Bob had kicked. + +Then it felt as though a ton of beef had suddenly been dropped on him for +the man who had captured him was trying to make sure that Bob would not +squirm away from him. Just to make sure, he fell heavily on the young +federal agent and Bob cried out in pain as the breath was forced from his +lungs. + +From the distance came the shrill siren of a police car. + +“Hurry it up, over there,” a voice called. “We’ve got to make a break out +of here.” + +“Did you get the other guy?” demanded the man who was almost smothering +Bob. + +“Not yet.” + +On the echo of those words there came a shot and a cry. + +“We’ve got him!” + +Bob attempted to throw off his assailant, but a thousand stars seemed to +descend upon him, police sirens mixed in with roaring motors and blazing +guns and in spite of his efforts he dropped into a jumbled sleep. + + + + + Chapter XXIII + ANXIOUS HOURS + ★ + + +Mixed sounds penetrated through a maze of pain which filled Bob’s head +when he finally started to regain consciousness. + +First of all there was the noise of police sirens which seemed to fill +the night air with their shrieks. + +Bob managed to raise himself up on one elbow just as a car careened +around the corner and screeched to a stop. Men fairly poured from the car +and Bob could see that each was heavily armed. + +Lights gleamed in the disrupted street and Bob turned to look for the car +which he had commandeered and from which he had been so roughly jerked. +It had vanished and only the damaged taxi remained. + +The echo of the gunfire had died away. + +A beam of light focused on Bob and a sharp command followed. + +“Don’t move!” + +At the moment Bob ached too much to care whether he ever moved. Someone +came up from behind him and jerked him roughly to his feet. + +“Snap a pair of handcuffs on this bird. We’ll question him later.” The +command was from an officer who seemed to be in charge of the squad. From +back down the street more sirens shrilled and Bob saw two more cars pull +to a stop and officers unload hastily. + +“Let me explain,” protested Bob. “If you’ll only look in the case inside +my coat you’ll find my identification papers. I’m a provisional federal +agent.” + +One of the police laughed scornfully. + +“That’s a fine story. You’re only a kid.” + +Bob was tired and worried now about his uncle. Hot tears of anger welled +into his eyes and his voice trembled as he replied. + +“You’d better take the time to make sure before you handcuff me. A +federal agent has been kidnaped on this street and you’d better hunt for +him instead of wasting your time on me.” + +“Who was kidnaped?” the question was asked by a newcomer who had joined +the group. + +“My uncle, Merritt Hughes,” replied Bob. “He’s in the Department of +Justice.” + +“Say, maybe there is something to his story,” chimed in another officer. +“I know there is a federal agent by the name of Hughes.” + +“Then you’d better start looking for him. He was down at the end of this +street a couple of minutes ago, the target for three gunmen. We were +trapped here in the taxi that’s deserted over there.” + +“Get busy, boys, and see what you can find,” ordered the sergeant who was +in command of the squad. “I’ll take this boy down to the corner and we’ll +phone the Department of Justice and check up on his story.” + +While the police detail spread out to comb the street, the sergeant and +Bob walked back to the police car. + +“It will go hard on you, kid, if you’re trying to pull anything on us,” +warned the sergeant. + +“Don’t worry about that,” Bob reassured him. “Just let me get to a +telephone where I can get in touch with Waldo Edgar.” + +They walked to the corner and then turned to their right. Half way down +the next block there was a small drug store and they found a pay +telephone there. Bob entered the booth while the sergeant, a blocky, +dark-haired man of about 40, stuck his foot in the door so that it would +remain open and he could hear the conversation. + +“Hand me your papers,” he told Bob, and the young federal agent handed +over the small leather case which he carried in an inner pocket. + +Bob’s fingers skimmed the pages of the telephone directory until he found +the desired number. Dropping a nickel in the phone, he dialed for the +Department of Justice. When an operator answered, he gave his message +quickly and concisely. + +“I’ll give you Mr. Edgar at once,” promised the operator. + +It was only a few seconds later when Bob heard the voice of the chief of +the division of investigation of the Department of Justice. It was a rich +full voice, that once heard would never be forgotten. Bob identified +himself quickly and then in rapid sentences told what had happened. + +“Your uncle had the paper the last you saw of him?” asked the federal +chief. + +“Yes,” replied Bob. “He was attempting to reach the far end of the street +and escape while I attracted the attention of the men trying to capture +him. But I was knocked out and I don’t know what happened. When the +police arrived the street was deserted and the bullet-proof sedan was +missing.” + +“We’ll spread an alarm at once,” said Edgar. “See that you are released +at once by the police. Then come here at once.” + +Bob turned to the sergeant. + +“Satisfied about my identity?” he asked. + +“You’re okay,” grinned the sergeant, handing back the leather case, which +Bob slipped into his coat. + +“I’ll be over at once,” he promised the federal chief. + +He stepped out of the booth and started to hasten toward the door, but a +question from the sergeant detained him. + +“Can you give us a description of that car? We’ll have it broadcast over +the police radio and also on the teletype circuit. Some of our men may +pick up the machine and the sooner we can get a report the better chance +we’ll have of finding your uncle.” + +Bob’s description of the car was meager. He wasn’t even sure of the make, +but it had looked like a large Romney sedan. + +“The windshield is shattered and there ought to be a number of bullet +marks on the body,” he said. “I guess that will be the best way to +identify it.” + +“We’ll shut down on every road out of the city. They can’t get away,” +promised the sergeant, as he stepped back into the booth to telephone the +description to police headquarters. + +But Bob had his own doubts as to whether the police would be able to +apprehend the car. Too much time had elapsed. Even now the big machine +might be speeding out of the city. + +It was then that Bob disobeyed his orders from the federal chief. Instead +of summoning a taxi, he hastened back to the street where the attack had +taken place. He wanted to be sure that his uncle had not been wounded and +left there. + +When he arrived the police squad had completed its search. + +“Find anyone?” asked Bob anxiously. + +“Not even a good ghost,” grumbled one of the officers. “Say, that taxi’s +a wreck.” + +But Bob had no time to waste in talk over a damaged taxi. He half ran and +half walked to the nearest thoroughfare where he flagged a taxi and +ordered the driver to take him to the Department of Justice building. + +On the way over, Bob reviewed the events of the night. With the +disappearance of his uncle the case had deepened and he felt as though he +was drifting in a sea of puzzling problems. + +On reaching the Department of Justice building, Bob went directly to the +upper floor where the federal chief’s office was located. An agent, +evidently watching for him, escorted him into the inner office and Bob’s +eyes widened as he saw Condon Adams and Tully Ross seated beside Waldo +Edgar’s desk. + +The federal chief rose as Bob came in. + +“Have a chair, Bob. We want to hear in detail everything that went on +tonight. Now that your uncle has disappeared, you’ll have to work with +Adams and Ross here on the case. I’m counting on you for a lot of good +work.” + + + + + Chapter XXIV + A SOLITARY HAND + ★ + + +Bob, as he eased his weary body into a chair, looked at Condon Adams and +Tully Ross. Both of them looked tired and worn and their faces reflected +the strain they had been under since the escape of the prisoner from the +police station. + +“Some more bungling, I expect,” snapped Condon Adams. The words were +harsh and uncalled for, and Bob’s temper flared quickly. + +“If it was bungling, it wasn’t the first bit of it today,” he shot back +at the older federal agent. + +Adams’ face flushed. He started to reply, then thought better of it, and +remained silent. + +“I want to know everything in detail, Bob,” said the federal chief. “Just +tell me all that happened this evening.” + +“We were eating dinner,” said Bob, “when I happened to put my hand in my +coat pocket and I felt a paper in there. When I pulled it out and +discovered what it was, I was dumfounded.” + +“Dumb-bell!” The word was whispered, but everyone in the room heard it +and Bob whirled toward Tully. + +“Another crack like that out of you and I’ll take you all apart,” he +flared. + +“Calm down, boys,” said Waldo Edgar. “We’ve got to get facts and get them +at once. A man’s life may be hanging in the balance. Go on Bob.” + +Bob went on to describe the start of their trip to the Department of +Justice building. + +“We saw a car following us, but we were holding our own until we turned +into a street where there was a lot of repair work going on. Our taxi +driver tried to get through, but the cab became stalled and he took to +his heels.” + +Bob paused a moment. The recent action in the street was so vivid that it +was hard to describe. + +“Uncle Merritt and I decided it would be better to try to make it alone +and we parted just as these gunmen unloaded. I managed to crawl back to +their car and when they started shooting at Uncle Merritt I took their +car and rammed it down the street in an effort to attract their attention +and give him a chance to escape.” + +“Is there any chance that he got away?” asked the federal chief, leaning +forward anxiously in his chair. + +Bob shook his head. + +“The last thing I remember was a single shot and then someone cried, +’We’ve got him.’ Then someone slugged me and I didn’t regain +consciousness until the police arrived. They haven’t found a trace of +him.” + +“I was afraid that was the case,” said the federal chief. “We’ve swung a +tight cordon around the entire city and I’m even having the airports +checked. We won’t overlook a single angle. Something will turn up before +morning.” + +The telephone buzzed and the federal chief, seized it eagerly, but his +face fell as some routine message came over the wire. + +When he had completed the conversation, he turned toward Condon Adams. + +“Now that Merritt Hughes is off the case, you’ll be in direct charge of +finding him and recovering that paper. I’m assigning Bob to give you some +help wherever you need it.” + +Adams showed his displeasure, but he was careful not to make it too +obvious to Waldo Edgar. + +“Thanks,” he granted. “I may need the kid for some leg work, but he +always seems to be getting into trouble.” It was biting sarcasm, but Bob +chose to ignore it. + +“This latest development,” went on the federal chief, “puts us right back +where we were after we thought the paper had vanished from the office, +while in reality it was in Bob’s pocket. The one prisoner who could have +given us some information slipped out of our hands and one of my best +agents has been abducted. That means whoever is after this information is +both desperate and daring.” + +The federal chief looked at Bob, whose face was still flushed from the +recent fight in the street. + +“Got a gun, Bob?” + +“I’ve a .32.” + +Waldo Edgar shook his head. + +“That’s not heavy enough,” he summoned an assistant, who returned shortly +with a stubby but serviceable gun and two clips of cartridges. + +“This is a new gun with which we are equipping our agents,” explained +Edgar. “It’s a .45 and when you hit anything with that, you stop it, even +if it is a freight train. You can’t afford to go rummaging around +Washington at night without ample protection while you’re on this case.” + +“So far I’ve been able to make pretty good use of my fists,” grinned Bob, +“but this may come in handy in a pinch.” + +“Any orders for Bob tonight?” asked Edgar, directing his question at +Condon Adams. + +“I won’t need him,” was the tart reply. “He might as well go home and get +some sleep.” + +“I may get a little sleep, but I’m not going home,” replied Bob. “That’s +too popular with certain unpleasant people. You can find me at a hotel +and I’ll probably change my address every night.” + +He named a small hotel which was near his own room. + +“That’s a good idea,” said Waldo Edgar, “but be sure to keep us informed +every time you shift to a new address. We’ll let you know the minute we +get any information on your uncle. Now you’d better get home and get some +sleep.” + +Bob admitted that he was mighty tired, but he was far from sleepy for his +mind was still spinning in circles. + +When he left the office Condon Adams and Tully Ross stepped out into the +hall with him and they descended to the main floor in the same elevator. +Bob could feel the cold wave of animosity which engulfed the others and +he knew that though they would make every effort to recover the radio +secret, they probably would not overtax their energies in finding his +uncle. + +As they walked toward the main door, Condon Adams spoke. + +“We’ll call on you when we need help, but this thing is going to be easy. +Too bad your uncle muffed it this afternoon.” + +Bob wheeled and faced him squarely. + +“Let’s have an understanding right now. In the first place, my uncle +didn’t muff anything. I’d like to have seen you do any better than he did +when three gunmen were shooting at you in a dark street and the only +escape was at an end where there was a brilliant street light. Now as far +as getting things in a mess, it seems to me that you did a perfect job +when you let that prisoner, the one man who could have supplied valuable +information, take your gun away from you in the police station this +afternoon. That makes you out to be quite a chump and I’ve always thought +you were.” + +Bob was surprised at his own words and his own boldness, but he saw a +look something like apprehension in Condon Adams’ eyes. + +“You don’t like my uncle; you never have. You’ve always been jealous of +his brains and his ability. Your nephew doesn’t like me. Well, that goes +for me, too. I don’t think you’ll make any effort to find my uncle. If +you can recover that paper, well and good—that’s your first thought. But +I’m serving notice on you right now that I’m going to find him and I’m +going to recover that paper. And I’ll do it without any help from either +one of you. So here’s a tip. I’m tired and I’m mad and I don’t like you. +Right now I can think of nothing I’d like to do better than give each of +you a biff on the nose and if you open your mouths again about my uncle, +I’ll do just that thing. Good night.” + +Bob’s words had so amazed both Adams and his nephew that they were +speechless and the young federal agent turned and stepped through the +main doorway. + +Tully Ross, angry words crowding to his lips, started to follow Bob, but +the firm hands of Condon Adams stopped him. + +“Keep your head, Tully,” he warned. “The boy’s mad clear through and he’d +do just what he said—clean up on both of us. Maybe we’ve got it coming, +though. We baited him too much. But we’re going to find that missing +radio document.” + +The same resolution was in Bob’s heart as he stepped down the avenue, but +in addition was the grim determination that he would find his uncle. + + + + + Chapter XXV + THE FIRST CLUE + ★ + + +The coolness of the fall night helped to clear the mad whirl of Bob’s +fatigued mind and he mulled over the things that had happened as he +walked down the avenue. + +For nearly 24 hours the missing paper had been in his possession, which +accounted for the attempt to kidnap him. But how had it leaked that the +paper had been sent over to the archives division for filing—who had +known that he would be alone that night? + +Bob felt that knowing the answer to this question, he would have +something on which to base his further investigation. + +Then there was the disappearance of his uncle that night. Bob knew that +both the radio document and the federal agent were in the hands of +ruthless and relentless men. From what his uncle had told him before, the +radio secret was worth a huge amount to almost every foreign power and he +dared not guess what country might be interested in obtaining its +possession through such means as had been employed. + +Bob’s walk took him to the archives building and he automatically turned +in and went up to the office where he worked. + +The guard on duty on that floor was a familiar one, and Bob spoke to him +briefly. + +“Anything unusual tonight?” he asked. + +“Not a thing,” was the quick and honest reply. + +Bob walked down the corridor, unlocked the door of the office, switched +on the lights, and stepped inside. + +The room appeared to be just as he had left it in the afternoon and Bob +sat down at his desk. It was quiet here and he would have an opportunity +to think out some of his problems. + +But he found himself too tired even for that. His head was heavy and he +drowsed at his desk. Half an hour passed and Bob fell into a sound +slumber. For an hour he slept at his desk until the tapping of the guard +at the door aroused him. + +Bob opened the door in response to the summons. + +“Thought something might have happened to you,” said the guard, half +apologetically. + +“Something did,” smiled Bob. “I went sound asleep. I’d better get out of +here and get to bed.” + +While the guard looked on, Bob turned off the lights, locked the room and +started toward the elevator. + +The guard halted him a few paces down the hall. + +“Sorry, Mr. Houston, but I’ll have to search you. There’s a new rule that +anyone working on this floor out of hours must be searched.” + +Bob was half inclined to be angry, but he realized the soundness of this +rule, especially after what had just taken place. He quietly submitted to +a careful search of his clothing by the guard. + +“You know your job,” said Bob when the search was over. + +“I used to be a store detective,” replied the other, with not a little +pride in his voice, “and if I do say it myself, I was one of the best in +Washington.” + +It was only a few blocks to the hotel at which Bob had decided to take up +temporary quarters, and he walked the short distance at a brisk pace. + +He registered, asking for a quiet, inside room, but the clerk looked +dubious when Bob informed him he had no baggage, but would arrange to +have his clothes sent down in the morning. + +“You’ll have to pay in advance,” he said. + +Bob delved into his pockets in search of money and to his embarrassment +found that he had less than a dollar. + +The clerk appeared skeptical. It was late and after the fight in the +street Bob’s clothes were in none too good condition. + +“Perhaps you’d better try another hotel,” he suggested. + +By that time Bob longed for nothing more than a comfortable bed and a few +hours of sleep and his feet were heavy. They wouldn’t have carried him +another block. + +Reaching inside his coat he pulled out the billfold and drew out the +identification badge which had been given to him by the federal chief. + +“I guess this will identify me, even though I’m temporarily short of +funds,” said Bob. “Now I want that room and I don’t want to be disturbed +unless there is something really important. Understand?” + +The clerk stared at the identification card and his whole manner changed +into one of the utmost courtesy. In less than ten minutes Bob was in bed, +to drop into a sleep that was to be disturbed hours later by the strident +ringing of the telephone on the stand beside his bed. + +It was broad daylight when Bob rubbed the sleep from his eyes and +answered the telephone. + +“Yes, this is Bob Houston speaking,” he said. + +The words which came over the wire caught and held his attention. + +“Yes, I understand. Of course, come right over. I’ll be dressed and ready +to go over the entire affair.” + +Bob hung up the receiver, reached the bathroom in one long jump, and in +another had the shower on and was under it. + +After a brisk shower, he rubbed his body down thoroughly, feeling ready +for what he knew was to be a busy day. The caller was Lieutenant +Frederick Gibbons of the intelligence unit of the War Department, who had +been assigned to help on the case. He had promised Bob information of +vital importance and almost before Bob had finished dressing there was a +knock. + +When Bob opened the door a trim, soldierly figure was standing in the +hall. + +“Lieutenant Gibbons?” asked Bob. + +“Right. I take it you’re Bob Houston?” + +Bob nodded. + +“How about breakfast?” asked the intelligence officer. + +“I’m ready now and hungry,” grinned Bob. + +“Then we’ll eat and talk. The coffee shop downstairs is excellent.” + +After they had placed their orders for breakfast, Lieutenant Gibbons +leaned toward Bob. + +“How long have you been asleep?” he asked. + +“It must have been nearly three o’clock before I went to bed here,” was +the reply. + +“Then a lot of things have happened since you dropped out of this thing.” + +“Has my uncle been found?” asked Bob anxiously. + +“I’m sorry, but he hasn’t. However, we’ve turned up some clues that may +prove mighty interesting. The car in which he was abducted has been +found.” + +“Where?” The question was sharp and anxious. + +“Down near the tidal basin.” + +“Was there any trace of him?” + +“There was a stain or two on the rear cushions of the car, but nothing +serious, so if he was wounded last night, I don’t think we need to worry +about that.” + +“But the tidal basin? Does that mean——?” + +Though Bob left the question unfinished, the lieutenant guessed what he +feared and was quick to ease his mind. + +“I’m sure your uncle is still a captive. We’ve learned that sometime late +in the night a high-speed motor boat dashed out of the basin and down the +Potomac. It was a strange boat that came up the river early in the +evening. We’ve a fairly good description of the craft and may be able to +trace it down. Now our first mission is to locate your uncle and recover +that paper.” + +Bob liked the manner in which Lieutenant Gibbons spoke. The intelligence +officer looked keen and alive to everything. He was a little taller than +Bob and slender with a slenderness that was wiry. His eyes were a +sparkling brown and there was an upward twist to his lips that Bob liked. + +“Have you heard whether Condon Adams and Tully Ross have turned up +anything?” asked Bob. + +A frown marred the lieutenant’s forehead. + +“They’ve been busy,” he said. “As a matter of fact, they’ve caused the +arrest of Arthur Jacobs. They found some rather suspicious looking things +at his apartment, including some half burned scraps of paper in a +fireplace in which someone was offering Jacobs $5,000 for information on +the radio secrets.” + +“Does it look like a real lead?” Bob was anxious. + +“It may, but I hate to believe it. Jacobs is a foreigner and he has a +brother who only recently escaped from a midwestern prison and who has +made a bad record.” + +“Does his description tally with that of the fellow who escaped from +jail?” + +“That’s just it. There is a real resemblance and Condon Adams says he is +certain that Jacobs’ brother, Fritz, is the man who escaped from him.” + +“Maybe Adams is too anxious to build up a case,” said Bob. + +“That’s true, but the facts are starting to click and it looks like the +Jacobs brothers are going to be in for some unpleasant hours. Arthur is +down at the central station now.” + +“But it doesn’t seem possible. I’ve known him for a long time; he didn’t +seem like the kind who would get involved in anything like this.” + +“That’s just when you lose your way,” he said. “Don’t take anything for +granted. If you want to succeed in intelligence work you have to put a +question mark around everyone.” + + + + + Chapter XXVI + A BREAK FOR BOB + ★ + + +Breakfast at an end, they left the hotel and the intelligence officer +hailed a taxicab. + +“We’ll go down and listen in on this grilling,” he said. + +Bob didn’t relish seeing Arthur Jacobs, his filing chief, under the +barrage of questions he knew Condon Adams would hurl at the little man, +but he steeled his nerves for he knew that in his new work he must be +willing and prepared to face many an ordeal. + +They found a small group in a plain room. There was none of the pictured +“third degree” methods. + +Arthur Jacobs looked worried and tired. He sat behind a table, a pitcher +and glass of water within easy reach. Lounging across the table from him +was Adams, his fingers drumming incessantly on the table. At another +table at one side sat a stenographer and Tully Ross was sitting in a +chair tilted back against the wall. + +Just after Bob and the intelligence officer arrived, Waldo Edgar looked +in. + +“Any results?” he asked. + +“Not so far,” grunted Condon Adams, “but this fellow has a story to tell +and he’s going to break pretty soon.” + +A look of desperation flickered for a moment in Arthur Jacobs’ eyes and +he turned toward Bob. + +“Hello, Mr. Jacobs,” said Bob. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you here.” + +There was just a trace of a smile around the filing chief’s lips when he +replied. + +“I never thought I would be here, Bob. Who’s in charge of the office with +both of us away?” + +“I don’t know, but I’ll find out if you like.” + +“I would,” said the filing chief simply and Bob stepped into an adjoining +office and telephoned the archives division, where he was informed that a +senior clerk from another office had taken over the duties temporarily. + +When Bob stepped back into the larger room, Jacobs was sweating freely. + +“Everything’s all right at the office,” volunteered Bob, who felt sorry +for the little man. “Bondurance, from the next office, is taking charge +and they’re getting along all right. Of course they miss you.” + +“I’m afraid they won’t get those papers back in the proper order. It’s an +awful mess.” + +Bob agreed that it was and he couldn’t make himself feel that Arthur +Jacobs, so obviously worried about the routine at the office, could be +guilty of anything very bad. + +“Come on, now Jacobs,” broke in the heavy voice of Condon Adams. “Quit +this stalling and get down to business. How much did you get for selling +out this secret?” + +“But I tell you I didn’t get anything,” replied the filing chief, +spreading his hands out on the table in a dramatic denial. “How many +times must I tell you this?” + +“Until you tell me the truth and admit that you were paid to sell +information on a government secret.” + +“Oh, go away; quit bothering me,” cried the man behind the table. + +He stood up and pointed at Adams. + +“Get out! Get out! Leave Bob here I’ll talk to him; I can trust him!” + +Condon Adams half rose in utter surprise at the force of Jacobs’ words. +Then he dropped back into his chair and a look of sullen resentment swept +over his face. + +“You’ll tell me, or no one,” he growled. + +But from the back of the room, where he had stepped in unnoticed, Waldo +Edgar spoke quietly. + +“Let Jacobs talk in his own way,” he ruled. “The rest of us will step out +while Bob talks with him.” + +The legs of the chair in which Tully Ross had been leaning back against +the wall struck the floor with a thud and Tully started to protest, but +his uncle, realizing the futility, waved him into silence. + +Lieutenant Gibbons grinned at Bob as the others left the room. He was the +last to step out and he closed the door carefully behind him. + +When they were alone a tremendous burden seemed to lift from the +shoulders of the filing chief. + +“I’ve got to talk,” he told Bob, in a voice so low that it would have +been impossible for anyone at the door to hear. “But I had to talk with +someone I could trust.” + +He paused for a moment. + +“Your uncle is missing?” + +“He was kidnaped last night,” replied Bob. “There were three in the gang +and they got him and the radio paper which was stolen from our file.” + +Arthur Jacobs nodded sorrowfully. + +“I’m sorry about that, Bob, for he is in great danger then. I’ll tell my +story as quickly as I can; then you must act without loss of time.” + + + + + Chapter XXVII + ACTION AHEAD + ★ + + +Arthur Jacobs wiped the perspiration from his forehead and then reached +for the glass of water. He drained it at one gulp and leaned back in his +chair, an air of relief on his face. + +Bob, tense, waited for him to speak. When the words finally came they +rushed out in a torrent and Bob heard a story that wrenched at his own +heart. + +“It’s been terrible, Bob, terrible. I’ve got to tell you the whole story. +When Fritz escaped from prison he made his way east and I had letters +from him. He needed money; he had always needed money as far as that was +concerned. When I sent word that I had none to spare, he started +threatening me. Then he fell in with bad company and the first thing I +knew he was here in Washington.” + +The filing chief paused a moment and wiped his forehead again for the +perspiration was running freely. + +“Fritz came to my apartment and demanded money, but I actually didn’t +have it. He went away for a while, and then came again later. It was on +this visit last week that I got some inkling of what was in his mind. He +started hinting around about the secrets which passed through my hands +for filing and for safe-guarding. After an hour or so he came out in the +open and made me a proposition. He knew where he could sell the secret of +this new radio-propelled and guided plane if I could get my hands on the +War Department papers.” + +The filing chief stopped to pour out another glass of water. + +“Go on,” urged Bob, who was desperately anxious to learn the full story +and then resume the hunt for his uncle. + +“Fritz offered me $5,000 for my share if I would only tell him when the +papers reached the office. He said that was all they needed to know. I +could have used the $5,000, but I told him I wouldn’t do such a thing. +Then a couple of days later I got a letter from him. It was mailed +somewhere over in Maryland and he repeated his offer and threatened me +with exposing an old family scandal.” + +“That was the letter Condon Adams found,” exclaimed Bob, and the filing +chief nodded. + +“I was careless about that. I tossed it in the fireplace, but didn’t make +sure that it had been consumed.” + +“But did you supply your brother with the necessary information?” asked +Bob, pressing hard for more concrete information. + +Arthur Jacobs lowered his head. + +“Fritz came back the other night. He was in a terrible rage. He had +promised to get this information from me, and had failed. You’ll never +know the fear I’ve always had of Fritz. He was bigger, older and he +always bullied me. He threatened to beat me to death and I finally told +him what he wanted to know.” + +Bob saw tears welling into the chief clerk’s eyes and he turned his own +face away, for it had not been easy to hear this confession. When the +young federal agent finally looked back, Arthur Jacobs was composed and +calm once more. + +“When did you give him this information?” + +“It was the night before you caught Fritz in the office,” replied Jacobs. + +“Have you seen him since then?” + +“Yes, he came to my apartment after his escape and I sheltered him for a +few hours. I didn’t want to, but he was armed and forced me to do it. +That’s all I know about it.” + +“Don’t you know who’s behind Fritz? Who is supplying him with the money?” + +Arthur Jacobs shook his head. + +“I didn’t even see any money,” he said bitterly. “Fritz said that would +come later after this thing had been forgotten.” + +Bob felt sorry for the little man, for he knew now that Jacobs had been +the unwilling dupe of an older and bullying brother. + +There was one bit of information Bob must have, one thing that was vital. + +“Did you save the envelope in which the letter Fritz sent you from +Maryland was mailed?” he asked. + +Jacobs ran his fingers through his thinning hair. + +“I can’t remember.” + +“Did you toss it in the fireplace?” + +“No, I don’t think so. I probably dropped it in the wastebasket. The maid +cleans my apartment each day.” + +“Then where would this type of rubbish go?” + +“Down to the janitor, who would burn it in the incinerator.” + +Bob reached for the telephone on the other table. + +“Give me the number of your apartment house,” he urged, and Jacobs +supplied the needed information. + +The building superintendent answered and Bob’s words fairly tumbled over +the wire. + +“This is Bob Houston, a federal agent speaking,” he said. “Get hold of +your janitor at once. Don’t allow him to burn any more waste paper or +refuse of any type from the floor on which Arthur Jacobs lives. I’ll be +there within half an hour to check up on you.” + +The building superintendent was inclined to argue, but Bob cut him short. + +“This is no time for words,” he said. “Do as you’re told or I’ll file a +charge against you for interfering with the work of a federal officer.” + +Actually Bob didn’t know whether he had that power or not, but the words +sounded well and the threat did what was intended—the superintendent +changed his tone and agreed to halt the burning of any more wastepaper or +refuse. + +Bob turned back from the telephone and Jacobs looked at him with a +brighter face. + +“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me,” he said, “but I feel better +for having told you.” + +“I’ll help you all I can,” promised Bob heartily, turning to call for +Lieutenant Gibbons. + +The intelligence officer opened the door almost instantly and Condon +Adams and Tully Ross crowded in close behind him. + +“Well, can you solve the mystery for us now?” asked Adams, his voice +heavy with sarcasm. + +“I think so,” replied Bob. + +“Let’s have it, then.” + +“Hardly. Solve it in your own way. Remember that I’m working with my +uncle on this case. You have the invaluable help of Tully.” + +“That’s enough of smart cracks like that,” replied Adams, his face +flushing a little. “I want to know what Jacobs said.” + +“I’m making my report direct to Mr. Edgar. You’ll have to get it from +him.” + +With that Bob left the room and went directly to the office of the +federal chief, Lieutenant Gibbons trailing at his heels. + +Waldo Edgar listened intently while Bob recounted what Jacobs had told +him. + +“I rather sensed what his story would be,” mused the chief investigator. + +“Don’t you believe it?” asked Bob. + +“Yes, every word of it. Just another case of an older and bullying +brother taking advantage of a weaker one. It looks like Jacobs has +supplied us with the key information we have been groping for. Good work, +Bob.” + +“I’m afraid I don’t deserve any congratulations. Adams turned up Jacobs +as a suspect.” + +“True enough, but Jacobs would never have talked for Adams or any of the +rest of us. The important thing is that he did talk to you. Now what are +you planning?” + +Bob told of the letter from Maryland and of his orders to the building +superintendent. + +“The postmark on that letter should give us a clue to where the gang took +my uncle,” he said. “There isn’t much chance of finding it, but it’s +worth the time and effort.” + +Waldo Edgar’s eyes brightened. + +“You’re going to do, my boy. It’s things like that that count. You never +can tell when even the tiniest slip of paper is going to give you the key +to the case you’re working on.” + +The chief agent turned to Lieutenant Gibbons. + +“You’re staying on the case with Bob?” he asked. + +“I’m going to try and keep up with him,” smiled the intelligence officer. + +“Splendid. Then we’ll expect your uncle and the missing radio paper +within the next twenty-four hours, Bob.” + + + + + Chapter XXVIII + WASTE PAPER + ★ + + +There was a real feeling of hope in Bob’s heart as he stepped out of the +Department of Justice building with Lieutenant Gibbons at his side. + +“Things are going to move fast from now on,” predicted the lieutenant. +“By the way, Bob, aren’t you a little young to be a federal agent?” + +“I’m not a full-fledged agent,” explained Bob. “When my uncle was +assigned to this case and it looked like some valuable information might +be gained by an inside man in our office, I was delegated to help him and +given papers as a provisional agent. If I make good on this case I may +get into the service permanently, even though I’m a little young.” + +“I think you’re going in with a rush and I know you’re going to make good +even though Edgar gave you a pretty short time when he said you’d have +the case solved within twenty-four hours.” + +“That’s what scares me,” confessed Bob, “but I’ve got to find my uncle. +Once he’s safe I’ll start worrying about the radio secret.” + +“When you find him you’ll recover the radio secret,” predicted the +intelligence officer. + +Fifteen minutes of fast driving in a taxi took them to the apartment +where Arthur Jacobs resided. + +The building superintendent, curious and somewhat worried over Bob’s +telephoned orders, was waiting at the door to meet them. + +Bob identified himself and the superintendent admitted them to the +building, taking them into the basement where an incinerator bulked in +the background. Beside it were a number of bales of paper. + +“We’ve been baling and selling the waste paper,” he explained, “but I +can’t tell you in what bale the paper from the fourth floor, where Jacobs +lives, can be found. It’s a good thing you phoned. We were going to have +this trucked out sometime during the day.” + +Bob looked at the bales and a feeling of dismay crept into his heart. All +he wanted was one envelope—a small slip of paper—yet there were literally +hundreds of pieces of paper in each one of the bales. He turned to +Lieutenant Gibbons. The intelligence officer grinned. + +“Looks like we’re in for it. Better get off your coat, Bob, and we’ll +start on the first bale.” + +“You mean you want to open up all those bales?” demanded the building +superintendent. + +“That’s right,” nodded the intelligence officer. “We not only want to, +but we’re going to do it. Get some snippers and cut through the wires on +this bale.” He indicated the huge stack of paper nearest him. + +The superintendent snapped on additional lights and grudgingly cut the +wires on the first bale while Bob took off his coat. + +“Save every envelope with a Maryland postmark on it,” he said. + +It looked like an endless task, but Bob and the lieutenant, squatting on +their heels, started through the pile of paper. + +The building superintendent, after watching them for several minutes, +joined in the hunt. + +At the end of half an hour they had found four letters with Maryland +postmarks on them, but none of them addressed to Arthur Jacobs. + +“We’ve got to have more help,” decided the intelligence officer when an +hour had slipped away and they had gone through only one bale. He went to +a telephone and called the Department of Justice, with the result that +within half an hour six other agents were on the job, delving through the +growing pile of papers. + +By noon they had examined every scrap of paper from five bales and their +arms and backs were aching sharply. + +“I’m dizzy,” confessed the intelligence officer when they finally stopped +for lunch. Leaving one of the agents to guard the bales in the basement, +the others went to a nearby restaurant. Lunch was eaten quickly and with +a minimum of talk, for every one of them knew that perhaps a man’s life +hinged on the quickness with which they could find the tell-tale +envelope. + +They carried a tray of lunch back to the agent who had been left on guard +and plunged once more into the mountainous task which still faced them. + +The early hours of the afternoon slipped away. Bale after bale of paper +was scanned with care and Bob felt his hopes sinking. + +Another bale was finished and one more pulled down and clipped open. He +knelt down again and picked up a handful of waste paper. An envelope drew +his attention, but it was for another resident on the floor on which the +filing chief lived. + +Lieutenant Gibbons, whose lanky form was almost doubled in a knot from +the hours of bending down and looking at slips of paper, suddenly +straightened up with a triumphant cry. + +“Here’s the letter!” he cried, waving a badly torn envelope. + +The federal men, dropping the paper they had been sorting, rushed to his +side. + +Bob was the first to see the postmark on the envelope. It was marked from +Rubio, Maryland, and was addressed to Arthur Jacobs. + +The handwriting on the envelope was large and heavy and the pen which had +been used was none too good for it had dropped ink in two places on the +envelope. + +Bob felt his heart leap. This was the clue they had sought for so many +weary, back-breaking hours in the litter of paper in the basement. + +“How far is it to Rubio?” Bob asked the intelligence officer. + +“I’m not sure that I even know what part of Maryland it’s in, but I +believe if we go by plane, we should be there in an hour.” + +“Then we’ll go by plane,” decided Bob. + +Just how he could obtain a plane was a question he couldn’t have answered +at the moment, but he was determined to make the trip with the least +possible loss of time for he felt that either in Rubio or near it he +would find the solution to the mystery. + + + + + Chapter XXIX + INTO THE AIR + ★ + + +Bob and Lieutenant Gibbons left the other federal agents at the apartment +building to help the superintendent clean up the litter of paper they had +strewn about the basement while they hastened back to the Department of +Justice building. + +Waldo Edgar himself was waiting for their report and he smiled +contentedly when he heard it. + +“You’re on the right track, Bob. Follow it hard and don’t let a single +trick get away from you. How are you going to Rubio?” + +Bob turned to a wall map which showed the entire state of Maryland. As +Lieutenant Gibbons had surmised, Rubio was on the east shore, a tiny dot +of a town, well isolated from any of the other shore villages. + +“That’s a desolate stretch,” said the chief. “You may need help in +rounding up this gang.” + +“We’ll try it alone,” said Bob. “If we find them, we can send in a call +for assistance. Can you arrange for us to fly there?” + +The chief of the division of investigation looked at his watch. It was +just three o’clock. + +“A plane will be ready in half an hour at Antacostia,” he said. “Make +sure that you are well armed and don’t take unnecessary risks. +Understand?” + +“Yes, sir,” replied Bob. + +“Then start for Antacostia at once. You’re going, too, lieutenant?” + +“I wouldn’t miss this,” replied the intelligence officer. “Besides, we +have a considerable stake in this game.” + +“Splendid. But don’t let Bob take any needless risks. I’m counting on his +developing into one of my aces one of these days.” + +Bob’s temperature rose about three degrees and he looked at the federal +chief to see if he was joking, but Waldo Edgar was serious. + +“Looks to me like you’re making headway rapidly,” said Lieutenant Gibbons +as they left the Department of Justice building. “You carrying a gun?” he +asked. + +Bob patted his coat pocket. + +“I’ve got a special .45 with an extra clip of cartridges. That ought to +be enough for a trip like this.” + +“Let’s hope so,” said the intelligence officer. + +When they reached Antacostia, a cabin plane, a navy ship, was out on the +ramp waiting for them. It was an amphibian and while they were paying the +driver of their cab, the pilot started the motor with a roar that shook +the ground. + +An officer ran toward them. + +“Which one of you is Bob Houston?” he asked. + +Bob stepped forward. + +“You’re wanted on the phone at once,” he said. + +“Step on it, Bob. We’re ready to go,” warned Lieutenant Gibbons. + +Bob ran toward the administration building and a clerk there handed him a +telephone. + +Bob recognized instantly the voice of the chief of the bureau of +investigation. Waldo Edgar, usually so calm, was deeply moved. + +“Bob, get to Rubio with all possible speed. We’ve just had reports that +an unknown yet tremendously powerful radio station has just come on the +air. The Department of Commerce has had radio direction finders on it for +the last ten minutes and they report that the station must be on the east +shore of Maryland, probably near Rubio. They’re throwing on extra power +on their experimental station here to gum up the sending from this +unknown outfit. I’m afraid they’re trying to get the secret of the +radio-controlled plane out of the country in this way.” + +“We’re all ready to go. The plane’s on the ramp now with the motor on.” + +“Then hurry. Let me know the minute you land at Rubio and I can send more +information. I’m starting agents out of Baltimore by motor and I’ll send +another plane with men within the hour. Good luck.” + +Bob turned and raced toward the waiting plane. + +“What news?” asked Lieutenant Gibbons. + +“Tell you when we’re in the air,” replied Bob. + +They climbed into the cabin and were no sooner seated than the ship +started rolling across the field. + +Almost before they knew it the ground was dropping away and they were +headed for the east shore of Maryland. + + + + + Chapter XXX + ON THE EAST SHORE + ★ + + +The air that fall afternoon was clear and the entire panorama of the city +of Washington spread out below them. But Bob’s thoughts were not on the +beauties of the afternoon or of the flight. His mind was centered far +ahead on the east shore village of Rubio and what he might learn there. + +The cabin was well insulated, so Bob and Lieutenant Gibbons could +converse in comparative ease. + +“What did Edgar have to say?” asked the intelligence officer. + +“He’s afraid the gang is trying to get the secret radio information out +of the country by using an unlicensed station which has just started +broadcasting from somewhere along the east shore of Maryland.” + +Lieutenant Gibbons whistled. + +“What’s he doing about it?” + +“Federal agents are being sent from Baltimore by motor and another plane +is to follow us within a few minutes. The Department of Commerce believes +the station is near Rubio and they’re trying to gum up the broadcast as +much as possible. Oh, it all clicks beautifully. My uncle was taken down +the river in a fast boat and landed somewhere near Rubio. He had the +paper they desired and now they are trying to send the information +someplace in Europe by using this powerful but unlicensed radio.” + +“Sounds logical,” agreed the lieutenant. “Looks like we’re going to have +some busy hours ahead of us. Made any plans yet?” + +Bob shook his head. + +“I haven’t thought any beyond getting to Rubio as fast as we can and +trying to learn there whether a boat like the one which slipped out of +the tidal basin last night has been sighted there.” + +“Think we can swing it alone or are you going to wait for the other +agents to catch up with us?” + +There was no hesitation in Bob’s reply. + +“We’re going on as rapidly as we can. Every minute counts now. We may run +straight into a whole kettle of trouble, but we’ll have to handle it in +some fashion.” + +They lapsed into silence as the sturdy amphibian sped out over Chesapeake +Bay. Fishing boats could be seen below and several freighters, bound for +Baltimore, churned up a white wake in the blue of the bay. It was indeed +a calm and peaceful afternoon but Bob’s mind was anything but peaceful or +calm. + +Then they were over Maryland and a few minutes later the uneven line of +the east shore was visible. + +The pilot, in his cockpit up ahead, was scanning the ground intently. The +ship veered a little to the right and they circled over a sprawling +village before which a broad, sandy beach broke the gentle swell of the +Atlantic. Half a mile from the village proper was a sheltered cove with a +score of small fishing wharfs. It was toward this that the pilot of the +amphibian nosed his craft. + +As they swung over the cove Bob could see the upturned faces of fishermen +as they stared at the unexpected visitor. Bob looked at the boats in the +cove with extreme care, but none of them were unusual and none appeared +capable of great speed. + +The amphibian smacked the water and spray flew out on both sides as they +slowed down and taxied in toward the shore. The pilot cut the engine when +they were near a low wharf and dropped a light anchor. + +A friendly fisherman put out in a dory and pulled alongside the plane. + +“Any trouble?” he asked. + +“Not yet,” replied Lieutenant Gibbons, “but we’re looking for a black +speed boat. It’s been described as about 30 feet long and capable of 40 +miles an hour. It’s a cabin boat with an antennae above the cabin. Ever +seen anything like it around here?” + +Bob, watching the fisherman closely, thought he detected a slight +narrowing of the other’s eyes, but he knew that the men of the east shore +were by nature extremely cautious. + +“Don’t know as I’ve seen just that boat,” replied the fisherman, “but +there’s a good many crafts slip around the coves here.” + +“This boat would have come in this morning.” + +“Better climb in. We’ll ask some of the other boys.” + +Bob and the intelligence officer seated themselves in the dory and were +quickly put ashore, where a little group gathered about them. + +The man who had brought them ashore acted as spokesman. + +“These fellows are looking for a speedboat that might have come around +here this morning. Anybody seen anything of such a craft?” + +There was no immediate reply and Bob could see doubt as to the wisdom of +answering the question in the eyes of a number of the men. It was then +that he decided to tell them the importance of their visit. + +He drew out his billfold and handed the nearest man his identification +card. + +“We’re federal officers,” he explained, “and we’re looking for a man who +was kidnaped last night in Washington in a speedboat and brought +somewhere near Rubio. If you can give us any information it may save a +man’s life.” + +The entire attitude of the group changed and a young man who had been in +the background stepped forward. + +“I saw such a boat just about mid-forenoon,” he said. “It was coming up +from the south, and coming fast, maybe forty an hour, but I didn’t see it +put in any place.” + +A radio in one of the fishing shacks screeched as though in agony and the +owner of the set hurried away to tune it down. + +“Somebody ought to break that thing up; it’s been doing that all +afternoon,” grunted another fisherman. + +“Did it work all right before?” asked Bob. + +“Sure. But this afternoon something went wrong and we can’t get +anything.” + +Bob knew then that the end of the trail was nearing. + +“Tell me this: Are there any old estates near here which have been +recently occupied?” + +The owner of the radio, who had shut it off, rejoined the group in time +to hear Bob’s question, and it was he who replied. + +“There’s the old Haskins place about five miles up the shore,” he said. +“Someone’s been around there for the last month or so. I went up one day +to try and sell some provisions, but they ordered me off.” + +“Could this speedboat have been bound for the Haskins place?” asked Bob, +aiming his question at the young fisherman who had told him about the +boat. + +“Sure, it was going up the shore. But I’ve never seen that boat around +here before.” + +Bob turned to Lieutenant Gibbons. + +“Looks to me like the Haskins place is our goal. Let’s reconnoiter it in +the plane.” + +“The sooner the better,” agreed the intelligence officer. + +Bob swung back to the fishermen. + +“Federal agents are coming in here from Baltimore by car and from +Washington by plane. If they arrive before we return, direct them to the +Haskins place.” + + + + + Chapter XXXI + THE CHASE ENDS + ★ + + +With its motor on full, the amphibian flashed across the cove and wheeled +into the air. Bob felt that they were on the last leg of their hunt and +he sensed a tenseness of his whole body that was unsettling. Lieutenant +Gibbons realized how Bob felt and he leaned over and spoke to the young +federal agent. + +“Let your nerves loosen up a little and keep your head when we get on the +ground. If we get in a jam, use your gun only as a last resort. Remember +that help will be along soon.” + +The intelligence officer took out his own automatic and examined it, +making sure that the firing mechanism was working perfectly. Bob did +likewise and shifted the gun into his right-hand coat pocket. He knew +that with the gun there he could shoot through his pocket if necessary. + +The village of Rubio dropped behind them and a desolate stretch of shore +unfolded before their eyes. + +Lieutenant Gibbons was the first to sight the Haskins place, a rambling +old structure well out on a neck of land that projected into the +Atlantic. He signalled to the pilot that this was their destination and +the naval airman banked the amphibian gracefully. + +The plane dropped low, flying not more than a hundred feet above the +shore. The expansive old house, which had several long wings, was badly +in need of paint, as were the outbuildings clustered to the rear. A long, +low boathouse was built as a part of the run-down pier and one door was +closed, but as the plane flashed by Bob caught a glimpse of a black +motorboat and his heart leaped. He seized Lieutenant Gibbons’ arm. + +“I saw a boat in the shed!” cried Bob. “Let’s get down as soon as +possible.” + +But already the flyer was dropping the amphibian low. They spattered down +on the water and their speed dropped off as they neared the old wharf. + +Bob watched the house closely for some sign of life. The windows, many of +them broken, betrayed no movements. From all outward appearances the +house had not been occupied in years. + +The amphibian, now less than 50 yards from the beach, lost headway and +drifted. + +“Looks like some bad rocks ahead,” said the pilot. “I don’t dare get any +closer. You’ll have to swim if you want to land here unless I taxi out +and down a ways. It looked better further down.” + +But Bob had no intention of wasting any more time. + +“I’m going ashore,” he told Lieutenant Gibbons. “You can stay here and +see if anything happens.” + +Before the intelligence officer could protest, Bob eased himself out of +the cabin and started swimming for shore. In a few yards he was able to +touch bottom, but just as he straightened up there was a sharp puff from +one of the lower windows of the old house and a bullet ricocheted along +the water. + +Bob, acting by instinct, ducked and started swimming under water. He +should have been greatly alarmed, but instead he felt a strange +exultation for the firing of that shot had told him what he wanted to +know—he was at the end of the trail. + +The young federal agent came up for air and as soon as his head appeared, +three shots sounded in rapid succession, each fired from different +windows in the house. + +Two of the bullets went wide of their mark, but the third splashed water +in Bob’s eyes. Before he ducked again he heard Lieutenant Gibbons firing +back and then another gun joined in the battle and Bob knew that the +naval flyer had taken a hand in the party. + +Swimming with a powerful stroke, Bob shot along under water. When he came +up this time he was in the shelter of the boathouse. He was able to stand +erect and he waved back to Lieutenant Gibbons. The firing from the house +had suddenly ceased and Bob made his way alongside the squat, powerful +speedboat. + +He climbed into the craft and with several well aimed blows with the butt +of his gun disabled the ignition apparatus. At least the kidnapers would +not escape in the boat. + +From some place behind the house the sound of an automobile exhaust +roared out and Bob leaped to the door of the boathouse. A car wheeled +around the far corner of the house and he saw three men inside, two in +front and one in the rear. It was the first time Bob had ever fired a gun +with a human being as a target, but he fired rapidly from the automatic +and it seemed to him that a whole volley of bullets issued from the +weapon in his hands. Then the gun was silent and before he could get the +other clip from his pocket the car had disappeared. + +Bob started running for the house, pausing only once when a cry from +Lieutenant Gibbons caused him to turn his head. The intelligence officer +was wading ashore and motioning for Bob to wait for him. But Bob had more +pressing duties. + +The front door of the house was half open and Bob charged through. The +interior was dusty and unkempt, although there were some signs that an +effort had been made to live in two of the front rooms. + +Lieutenant Gibbons pounded up the front steps and burst into the hallway. +He joined Bob and together they resumed the frantic search of the house. +The first floor was combed, room for room and closet by closet, and it +was not until they reached a shed at the back of the house that they +found what they were seeking. There, laying on a roll of dirty bedding, +was Merritt Hughes, bound, gagged and with a red welt along one side of +his head. + +Bob, a cry of joy at finding his uncle on his lips, bent down to untie +the gag while Lieutenant Gibbons slashed at the rope which fastened the +federal agent’s wrists and ankles. + +Together they helped Merritt Hughes to his feet. His tongue was badly +swollen from the gag, but he managed to say a few words. + +“Did they get away?” he asked slowly. + +“Yes, but I don’t think they’ll get far. Agents are on their way from +Baltimore and Washington,” said Bob. + +“How about their radio?” + +“The Department of Commerce heard them come on the air and gummed up +their broadcasts,” replied Bob. + +Lieutenant Gibbons, who had gone in search of water, returned with a tin +cup and Merritt Hughes drank it with relish, taking slow, deep draughts +of the refreshing liquid. + +Then he bathed his face and hands and felt much refreshed. He looked +quizzically at Bob and the lieutenant. + +“You fellows may catch pneumonia running around here in wet clothes,” he +warned. + +“What happened to your head?” demanded the lieutenant. + +“They creased me with a bullet during the scrap back in Washington last +night,” replied the federal agent grimly. “I want you to see their +radio.” + +He led them to the top floor of the old house where one room had been +fitted up for broadcasting purposes. Bob knew little about radio, but he +could tell that a great deal of money had been expended here. + +“Where’s the aerial?” he asked. + +“They used an underground antennae,” replied his uncle. + +Lieutenant Gibbons picked up a heavy chair which was in the room and +deliberately smashed the delicate equipment. + +“I guess that’s the end of this station.” + +“But we haven’t recovered the radio document,” groaned Bob. + +“I rather think we have,” replied the lieutenant, pointing from a window +to a cavalcade of cars which was approaching through a clearing. + + + + + Chapter XXXII + “FEDERAL AGENT” + ★ + + +The scene that night in the office of the chief of the bureau of +investigation was one that would remain stamped forever in Bob’s memory. + +Waldo Edgar was there. So was Bob’s uncle and on the other side of the +room were Tully Ross and Condon Adams and in the background Lieutenant +Gibbons chuckled occasionally. + +It was a brief session with Waldo Edgar doing most of the talking in that +close, clipped manner of speech of his which inspired his own agents and +instilled fear in the hearts of the men he was pursuing. + +“The reports you have turned over to me tonight are highly gratifying,” +he said, “and I think we can call this case completed. While most of the +honor of the final catch goes to Bob Houston, Condon Adams and Tully Ross +deserve credit for uncovering that vital clue in the fireplace of Arthur +Jacobs’ apartment.” + +The federal chief shuffled through some papers on his desk. + +“All of the men involved in the case have been apprehended, including +Fritz Jacobs, who appeared to be the ringleader. Their radio station has +been destroyed and they were unable to make use of the information which +they had for nearly 24 hours. You may be sure that their punishment will +be swift and sure. As for Arthur Jacobs, I am inclined to feel sorry for +him for his record in the government service up to this time had been +excellent and I will do all that I can to help him.” + +Then Waldo Edgar turned to Tully Ross. + +“As a result of your work on this case, I am pleased to be able to tell +you that you are now a full fledged federal agent.” + +The chief of the bureau of investigation then faced Bob and he smiled +warmly as he spoke. + +“To you, Bob, I extend my most sincere congratulations. You were under a +great strain, yet you used your head every minute of the time and when +the showdown came, you were in there fighting. I don’t know when anything +has pleased me more than to hand you your commission as a federal agent. +You’re young, but I predict that as Agent Nine you are going a long ways +in the federal service.” + +In spite of himself, tears welled into Bob’s eyes for his heart was +overflowing with happiness. + +“I’ll do my best to make good,” he promised. “When do I go on another +case?” + +Waldo Edgar chuckled. “You’d better rest a day or two from this one. +There will be plenty for you later.” + +He was, indeed, a wise prophet, for in less than 24 hours Bob was to get +the call that was to send him out on the famous Jewel Mystery, about +which you will learn in “Agent Nine and the Jewel Mystery.” + + + THE END + + + + + Transcriber’s Notes + ★ + + +--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public + domain in the country of publication. + +--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and + dialect unchanged. + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Agent Nine Solves His First Case, by Graham M. Dean + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44351 *** |