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

by Graham M. Dean

  Chapter XXIV A SOLITARY HAND *

  Bob, as he eased his weary body into a chair, looked at Condon Adams andTully Ross. Both of them looked tired and worn and their faces reflectedthe strain they had been under since the escape of the prisoner from thepolice station.

  "Some more bungling, I expect," snapped Condon Adams. The words wereharsh and uncalled for, and Bob's temper flared quickly.

  "If it was bungling, it wasn't the first bit of it today," he shot backat the older federal agent.

  Adams' face flushed. He started to reply, then thought better of it, andremained silent.

  "I want to know everything in detail, Bob," said the federal chief. "Justtell me all that happened this evening."

  "We were eating dinner," said Bob, "when I happened to put my hand in mycoat pocket and I felt a paper in there. When I pulled it out anddiscovered what it was, I was dumfounded."

  "Dumb-bell!" The word was whispered, but everyone in the room heard itand Bob whirled toward Tully.

  "Another crack like that out of you and I'll take you all apart," heflared.

  "Calm down, boys," said Waldo Edgar. "We've got to get facts and get themat 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 ofJustice building.

  "We saw a car following us, but we were holding our own until we turnedinto a street where there was a lot of repair work going on. Our taxidriver tried to get through, but the cab became stalled and he took tohis heels."

  Bob paused a moment. The recent action in the street was so vivid that itwas hard to describe.

  "Uncle Merritt and I decided it would be better to try to make it aloneand we parted just as these gunmen unloaded. I managed to crawl back totheir car and when they started shooting at Uncle Merritt I took theircar and rammed it down the street in an effort to attract their attentionand give him a chance to escape."

  "Is there any chance that he got away?" asked the federal chief, leaningforward 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 regainconsciousness until the police arrived. They haven't found a trace ofhim."

  "I was afraid that was the case," said the federal chief. "We've swung atight cordon around the entire city and I'm even having the airportschecked. We won't overlook a single angle. Something will turn up beforemorning."

  The telephone buzzed and the federal chief, seized it eagerly, but hisface 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 offinding him and recovering that paper. I'm assigning Bob to give you somehelp wherever you need it."

  Adams showed his displeasure, but he was careful not to make it tooobvious to Waldo Edgar.

  "Thanks," he granted. "I may need the kid for some leg work, but healways seems to be getting into trouble." It was biting sarcasm, but Bobchose to ignore it.

  "This latest development," went on the federal chief, "puts us right backwhere 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 havegiven us some information slipped out of our hands and one of my bestagents has been abducted. That means whoever is after this information isboth desperate and daring."

  The federal chief looked at Bob, whose face was still flushed from therecent 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 shortlywith a stubby but serviceable gun and two clips of cartridges.

  "This is a new gun with which we are equipping our agents," explainedEdgar. "It's a .45 and when you hit anything with that, you stop it, evenif it is a freight train. You can't afford to go rummaging aroundWashington 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 atCondon Adams.

  "I won't need him," was the tart reply. "He might as well go home and getsome sleep."

  "I may get a little sleep, but I'm not going home," replied Bob. "That'stoo popular with certain unpleasant people. You can find me at a hoteland 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 informedevery time you shift to a new address. We'll let you know the minute weget any information on your uncle. Now you'd better get home and get somesleep."

  Bob admitted that he was mighty tired, but he was far from sleepy for hismind was still spinning in circles.

  When he left the office Condon Adams and Tully Ross stepped out into thehall 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 andhe knew that though they would make every effort to recover the radiosecret, they probably would not overtax their energies in finding hisuncle.

  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 uncledidn't muff anything. I'd like to have seen you do any better than he didwhen three gunmen were shooting at you in a dark street and the onlyescape was at an end where there was a brilliant street light. Now as faras getting things in a mess, it seems to me that you did a perfect jobwhen you let that prisoner, the one man who could have supplied valuableinformation, take your gun away from you in the police station thisafternoon. That makes you out to be quite a chump and I've always thoughtyou were."

  Bob was surprised at his own words and his own boldness, but he saw alook something like apprehension in Condon Adams' eyes.

  "You don't like my uncle; you never have. You've always been jealous ofhis brains and his ability. Your nephew doesn't like me. Well, that goesfor me, too. I don't think you'll make any effort to find my uncle. Ifyou can recover that paper, well and good--that's your first thought. ButI'm serving notice on you right now that I'm going to find him and I'mgoing to recover that paper. And I'll do it without any help from eitherone 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 ofyou 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 werespeechless and the young federal agent turned and stepped through themain doorway.

  Tully Ross, angry words crowding to his lips, started to follow Bob, butthe firm hands of Condon Adams stopped him.

  "Keep your head, Tully," he warned. "The boy's mad clear through and he'ddo 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 missingradio document."

  The same resolution was in Bob's heart as he stepped down the avenue, butin addition was the grim determination that he would find his uncle.