Agent Nine Solves His First Case: A Story of the Daring Exploits of the G Men

by Graham M. Dean

  Chapter XII STEPS IN THE HALL *

  Bob leaned back in the taxi. It was restful listening to the steady humof 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 tiredand my muscles ache a good bit from that tussle in the dark back in theoffice. 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 tohelp me out," chuckled Merritt Hughes. "Still think you'd like to be areal federal agent?"

  "And how!" said Bob sincerely. "It's got the thrilling kind of a life I'dlike to follow."

  "Don't make the mistake of thinking it is all thrills and fun. There aremonths upon months when the cases are the merest of routines and the workis real drudgery. But every so often something bobs up that does add azest to living. Where do you suppose that radio document went?"

  "I wish I knew. Jacobs will worry himself sick until it is recovered. Iknew something was in the air, but none of us thought anything importanthad 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. Hefelt in his pocket for the thin steel wedges which had been used in thedoors. Snapping on the dome light in the taxi, he held them in the palmof 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 makeof them?"

  His uncle looked at them sharply, but refused to touch them. Pulling outa clean handkerchief, he had Bob drop the wedges into the cloth, coveredthem carefully and placed them in an inside pocket.

  "I'll turn them over to the laboratory. They may be able to find somefingerprints 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 inplace," declared Bob, who felt that here might be a really importantclue.

  The taxi swung toward the curb. A dull light gleamed over the entrance ofthe 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 stopfor 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 theentrance of the apartment. Turning, he watched the cab pull away from thecurb. Then he inserted his key in the lock and entered the building. Theair was warm and dank and it made him sleepy.

  His room was on the third floor at the back and the lights in the hallwaywere none too bright. Bob's room was part of an apartment occupied by anelderly couple, but it had an outside entrance on the hallway and hecould come and go as he pleased.

  Another feature of it was a private bathroom. In spite of its comparativeluxury, he was able to obtain the room for a rent well within his modestmeans for Bob also acted as a sort of caretaker for the apartment whenthe older people were away on one of their extensive trips.

  Bob unlocked the door of his room. He had left one window partially openand the air here was fresh. Turning on the lights he undressed quicklyand stepped into the bathroom where he was soon under a shower.

  A rough toweling down made his body glow and then he pulled on freshpajamas. The clock on the dresser showed the time to be three thirty. Thenight was nearly gone when Bob tumbled into bed and turned off the lighton 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 picturesof the events of the night flashed through his brain. Bob stirredrestlessly once or twice and finally aroused enough to mutter in hissleep.

  He must have been reliving the vivid struggle in the darkness of theoffice for he was tense when he sat up suddenly--wide awake and listeningfor some sound from the hall.

  Sleep vanished from his eyes. There was no mistake about it. Someone wasoutside his door, trying the knob ever so gently. At that moment Boblonged for some other weapon than his two capable hands. The side of thebed nearest the door creaked and Bob knew if he eased his body over thatedge the creaking of the bed might scare away the marauder. Movingcautiously, he slid out the side next to the wall and put his bare feeton the floor.

  An alleyway ran back of the apartment and a street light at the head ofthis sent just enough light down to mark the window as a lighter squareagainst the general pattern of darkness.

  This turning of the doorknob was getting to be too much for Bob and hecast about for some object which he could use as a club. His golf bag wasin the corner and he managed to extract a steel shafted midiron whichwould 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 andtouched 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 hehad left in the lock on the inside of the door.

  To his surprise the key was not in the lock. Then he understood theslight noise that had aroused him. Whoever was on the other side of thedoor had pushed the key out of the lock and the noise made when it hadstruck the floor had brought him out of his sleep.

  Bob leaned down and felt along the floor. He reached out in his searchfor the key, became overbalanced, and before he could regain hisequilibrium, dropped to his knees with a thud that was plainly audible inthe hall.

  Bob's hands closed on the key he sought, but as he drew himself uprightagain he heard someone running down the hall. Seconds later came the slamof an outside door and Bob knew that it would be useless to attempt anypursuit.

  He turned on the light and opened the door. The same dim lights wereburning in the hallway. Closing the door, he was sure that it was lockedand 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 beyondhim. Perhaps his uncle could solve it in the morning.