Chapter XXIII ANXIOUS HOURS *
Mixed sounds penetrated through a maze of pain which filled Bob's headwhen he finally started to regain consciousness.
First of all there was the noise of police sirens which seemed to fillthe night air with their shrieks.
Bob managed to raise himself up on one elbow just as a car careenedaround the corner and screeched to a stop. Men fairly poured from the carand Bob could see that each was heavily armed.
Lights gleamed in the disrupted street and Bob turned to look for the carwhich 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. Someonecame up from behind him and jerked him roughly to his feet.
"Snap a pair of handcuffs on this bird. We'll question him later." Thecommand was from an officer who seemed to be in charge of the squad. Fromback down the street more sirens shrilled and Bob saw two more cars pullto a stop and officers unload hastily.
"Let me explain," protested Bob. "If you'll only look in the case insidemy coat you'll find my identification papers. I'm a provisional federalagent."
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 welledinto his eyes and his voice trembled as he replied.
"You'd better take the time to make sure before you handcuff me. Afederal agent has been kidnaped on this street and you'd better hunt forhim instead of wasting your time on me."
"Who was kidnaped?" the question was asked by a newcomer who had joinedthe group.
"My uncle, Merritt Hughes," replied Bob. "He's in the Department ofJustice."
"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 thisstreet a couple of minutes ago, the target for three gunmen. We weretrapped here in the taxi that's deserted over there."
"Get busy, boys, and see what you can find," ordered the sergeant who wasin command of the squad. "I'll take this boy down to the corner and we'llphone the Department of Justice and check up on his story."
While the police detail spread out to comb the street, the sergeant andBob 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 atelephone where I can get in touch with Waldo Edgar."
They walked to the corner and then turned to their right. Half way downthe next block there was a small drug store and they found a paytelephone 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 wouldremain open and he could hear the conversation.
"Hand me your papers," he told Bob, and the young federal agent handedover the small leather case which he carried in an inner pocket.
Bob's fingers skimmed the pages of the telephone directory until he foundthe desired number. Dropping a nickel in the phone, he dialed for theDepartment of Justice. When an operator answered, he gave his messagequickly 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 ofthe division of investigation of the Department of Justice. It was a richfull voice, that once heard would never be forgotten. Bob identifiedhimself quickly and then in rapid sentences told what had happened.
"Your uncle had the paper the last you saw of him?" asked the federalchief.
"Yes," replied Bob. "He was attempting to reach the far end of the streetand escape while I attracted the attention of the men trying to capturehim. But I was knocked out and I don't know what happened. When thepolice arrived the street was deserted and the bullet-proof sedan wasmissing."
"We'll spread an alarm at once," said Edgar. "See that you are releasedat 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, whichBob 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 aquestion from the sergeant detained him.
"Can you give us a description of that car? We'll have it broadcast overthe police radio and also on the teletype circuit. Some of our men maypick up the machine and the sooner we can get a report the better chancewe'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 bulletmarks on the body," he said. "I guess that will be the best way toidentify 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 thedescription to police headquarters.
But Bob had his own doubts as to whether the police would be able toapprehend the car. Too much time had elapsed. Even now the big machinemight be speeding out of the city.
It was then that Bob disobeyed his orders from the federal chief. Insteadof summoning a taxi, he hastened back to the street where the attack hadtaken place. He wanted to be sure that his uncle had not been wounded andleft 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'sa wreck."
But Bob had no time to waste in talk over a damaged taxi. He half ran andhalf walked to the nearest thoroughfare where he flagged a taxi andordered the driver to take him to the Department of Justice building.
On the way over, Bob reviewed the events of the night. With thedisappearance of his uncle the case had deepened and he felt as though hewas drifting in a sea of puzzling problems.
On reaching the Department of Justice building, Bob went directly to theupper floor where the federal chief's office was located. An agent,evidently watching for him, escorted him into the inner office and Bob'seyes widened as he saw Condon Adams and Tully Ross seated beside WaldoEdgar's desk.
The federal chief rose as Bob came in.
"Have a chair, Bob. We want to hear in detail everything that went ontonight. Now that your uncle has disappeared, you'll have to work withAdams and Ross here on the case. I'm counting on you for a lot of goodwork."
Agent Nine Solves His First Case: A Story of the Daring Exploits of the G Men Page 23