Chapter XXV THE FIRST CLUE *
The coolness of the fall night helped to clear the mad whirl of Bob'sfatigued mind and he mulled over the things that had happened as hewalked down the avenue.
For nearly 24 hours the missing paper had been in his possession, whichaccounted for the attempt to kidnap him. But how had it leaked that thepaper had been sent over to the archives division for filing--who hadknown that he would be alone that night?
Bob felt that knowing the answer to this question, he would havesomething on which to base his further investigation.
Then there was the disappearance of his uncle that night. Bob knew thatboth the radio document and the federal agent were in the hands ofruthless and relentless men. From what his uncle had told him before, theradio secret was worth a huge amount to almost every foreign power and hedared not guess what country might be interested in obtaining itspossession through such means as had been employed.
Bob's walk took him to the archives building and he automatically turnedin and went up to the office where he worked.
The guard on duty on that floor was a familiar one, and Bob spoke to himbriefly.
"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, switchedon the lights, and stepped inside.
The room appeared to be just as he had left it in the afternoon and Bobsat down at his desk. It was quiet here and he would have an opportunityto think out some of his problems.
But he found himself too tired even for that. His head was heavy and hedrowsed at his desk. Half an hour passed and Bob fell into a soundslumber. For an hour he slept at his desk until the tapping of the guardat the door aroused him.
Bob opened the door in response to the summons.
"Thought something might have happened to you," said the guard, halfapologetically.
"Something did," smiled Bob. "I went sound asleep. I'd better get out ofhere and get to bed."
While the guard looked on, Bob turned off the lights, locked the room andstarted 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 thatanyone working on this floor out of hours must be searched."
Bob was half inclined to be angry, but he realized the soundness of thisrule, especially after what had just taken place. He quietly submitted toa 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 littlepride in his voice, "and if I do say it myself, I was one of the best inWashington."
It was only a few blocks to the hotel at which Bob had decided to take uptemporary quarters, and he walked the short distance at a brisk pace.
He registered, asking for a quiet, inside room, but the clerk lookeddubious when Bob informed him he had no baggage, but would arrange tohave 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 embarrassmentfound that he had less than a dollar.
The clerk appeared skeptical. It was late and after the fight in thestreet 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 fewhours of sleep and his feet were heavy. They wouldn't have carried himanother block.
Reaching inside his coat he pulled out the billfold and drew out theidentification badge which had been given to him by the federal chief.
"I guess this will identify me, even though I'm temporarily short offunds," said Bob. "Now I want that room and I don't want to be disturbedunless there is something really important. Understand?"
The clerk stared at the identification card and his whole manner changedinto 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 stridentringing of the telephone on the stand beside his bed.
It was broad daylight when Bob rubbed the sleep from his eyes andanswered 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 readyto go over the entire affair."
Bob hung up the receiver, reached the bathroom in one long jump, and inanother had the shower on and was under it.
After a brisk shower, he rubbed his body down thoroughly, feeling readyfor what he knew was to be a busy day. The caller was LieutenantFrederick Gibbons of the intelligence unit of the War Department, who hadbeen assigned to help on the case. He had promised Bob information ofvital importance and almost before Bob had finished dressing there was aknock.
When Bob opened the door a trim, soldierly figure was standing in thehall.
"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 Gibbonsleaned toward Bob.
"How long have you been asleep?" he asked.
"It must have been nearly three o'clock before I went to bed here," wasthe 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 mayprove mighty interesting. The car in which he was abducted has beenfound."
"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 nothingserious, so if he was wounded last night, I don't think we need to worryabout that."
"But the tidal basin? Does that mean----?"
Though Bob left the question unfinished, the lieutenant guessed what hefeared and was quick to ease his mind.
"I'm sure your uncle is still a captive. We've learned that sometime latein the night a high-speed motor boat dashed out of the basin and down thePotomac. It was a strange boat that came up the river early in theevening. We've a fairly good description of the craft and may be able totrace it down. Now our first mission is to locate your uncle and recoverthat paper."
Bob liked the manner in which Lieutenant Gibbons spoke. The intelligenceofficer looked keen and alive to everything. He was a little taller thanBob and slender with a slenderness that was wiry. His eyes were asparkling brown and there was an upward twist to his lips that Bob liked.
"Have you heard whether Condon Adams and Tully Ross have turned upanything?" asked Bob.
A frown marred the lieutenant's forehead.
"They've been busy," he said. "As a matter of fact, they've caused thearrest of Arthur Jacobs. They found some rather suspicious looking thingsat his apartment, including some half burned scraps of paper in afireplace in which someone was offering Jacobs $5,000 for information onthe 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 abrother who only recently escaped from a midwestern prison and who hasmade a bad record."
"Does his description tally with that of the fellow who escaped fromjail?"
"That's just it. There is a real resemblance and Condon Adams says he iscertain that Jacobs' brother, Fritz, is the man who escaped from him."
"Maybe Adams is too anxious to build up a case," said Bob.
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"That's true, but the facts are starting to click and it looks like theJacobs brothers are going to be in for some unpleasant hours. Arthur isdown at the central station now."
"But it doesn't seem possible. I've known him for a long time; he didn'tseem 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 forgranted. If you want to succeed in intelligence work you have to put aquestion mark around everyone."