Agent Nine
and the
Jewel Mystery

By
Graham M. Dean
Author of
Agent Nine’s First Case

★

A Story of Thrilling Exploits
of the “G” Men

The
Goldsmith Publishing Company
CHICAGO

Copyright 1935, by
The Goldsmith Publishing Company
Manufactured in the United States of America

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE [I. AN EMBARRASSING SITUATION] 15 [II. A NEW CASE] 25 [III. “GOOD LUCK”] 35 [IV. TULLY’S CHALLENGE] 41 [V. ON THE SOUTHERN LIMITED] 45 [VI. STRANGE EVENTS] 54 [VII. THE MAN ON THE PLATFORM] 64 [VIII. TULLY’S PAPERS VANISH] 73 [IX. BOB GETS A WARNING] 84 [X. IN CAR 43] 93 [XI. DOUBLE DANGER] 99 [XII. A NEW MYSTERY] 110 [XIII. GOING ON] 117 [XIV. THE LIGHTS GO OUT] 125 [XV. IN THE AISLE] 132 [XVI. FIGHTING FOR LIFE] 139 [XVII. INTO ANGRY WATERS] 144 [XVIII. PICKING UP CLUES] 149 [XIX. THE WARNING] 156 [XX. MEAGER HOPES] 162 [XXI. SPECIAL AGENT NINE] 167 [XXII. A HARD ASSIGNMENT] 174 [XXIII. SNAP AIM SCORES] 186 [XXIV. AT THE HOSPITAL] 190 [XXV. BOB GETS READY] 195 [XXVI. “DON’T MOVE!”] 199 [XXVII. SHERIFF MCCURDY TALKS] 207 [XXVIII. THEORIES] 211 [XXIX. MORE CLUES] 216 [XXX. READY FOR ACTION] 222 [XXXI. A BOAT FLASHES PAST] 227 [XXXII. LOST ISLAND AHEAD] 232 [XXXIII. OUT OF THE NIGHT] 236 [XXXIV. IN THE SHANTY] 240 [XXXV. REVERSING THE TABLES] 245 [XXXVI. UNTANGLING THE WEB] 248

AGENT NINE AND THE
JEWEL MYSTERY

★

Chapter I
AN EMBARRASSING SITUATION
★

Bob Houston, the youngest agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, stepped out of the Department of Justice Building and turned toward home, his heart beating faster than it had in months. It hardly seemed real but he was now a full-fledged agent in the greatest man hunting division in the Federal Government.

Bob paused a moment at the curb. Another man who had emerged from the justice building joined him. It was his uncle, Merritt Hughes, one of the most famous detectives in the department. He put his arm around Bob’s shoulders and shook him in a rough but friendly embrace.

“Well, Bob, how does it feel to be a real federal agent?” he asked.

It was a moment before Bob replied, and when he finally spoke the words came slowly.

“I hardly know,” he confessed, “as yet it doesn’t seem real, but there is one thing I do know—I’m going to work night and day to make a success of this new job.”

“Don’t worry about making a success,” advised his uncle. “You’ve got the stuff to make good or you wouldn’t have been taken into the department.”

“When do you think I’ll get my first assignment on a new case?” asked Bob.

“That’s hard to say,” replied the famous detective, “but if I were you I’d go home now and get a good night’s sleep. In this kind of a game you’d better sleep when you can.”

“Then I’m headed for home now,” said Bob. “Good night, and thanks for all you’ve done for me.”

With that the young federal agent strode off down the avenue, his lungs drinking in great gulps of the cool air of the fall night.

Merritt Hughes stood on the curb of the justice building watching his nephew until Bob turned the corner a block away. Anyone noticing the federal agent would have seen a slight smile of pleasure on his lips and he might have guessed that Merritt Hughes was greatly pleased by the events which had happened in the preceding hours.

As a matter of fact, Bob Houston, a plain clerk in the archives division of the War Department, temporarily a provisional federal agent, had been the key figure in preventing the theft of some of Uncle Sam’s most valuable radio secrets.

Through Bob’s efforts a daring plot had been thwarted and the men responsible taken into custody. As a reward for this brilliant work, Bob had been made a full-fledged agent of the famous bureau of investigation of the Department of Justice.

There were many thoughts in Bob’s mind as he strode toward home that night. Only that afternoon he had led the raid on the east shore of Maryland which had resulted in the apprehension of the gang which had been attempting to steal the radio secrets. Then, after the return to Washington, had come eventful hours.

Bob would never forget the scene in the office of Waldo Edgar, chief of the bureau of investigation, when Mr. Edgar had informed Bob that he was a regular federal agent and had presented his credentials to him.

Just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming, Bob pulled a small leather wallet from an inside coat pocket and paused under a street light to look at its contents. There was no mistake. There in the wallet was a small gold badge which denoted his office and the finely engraved card which marked his identification. Bob replaced the wallet with a particular glow of satisfaction and continued toward home.

The night air was raw and Bob increased his pace as he neared the building where he made his home. He turned in at the entrance and made his way up to the third floor where he had a comfortable room in a rear apartment.

Bob unlocked the door and snapped on the light. It was a typical man’s room with a large chiffonier and a deep clothes closet in one wall. There was a reading light near the head of the bed and beside this a large easy chair with a book rack. A number of books and magazines were scattered on this rack, and usually Bob sat down to read for a time before going to bed; but tonight he was too tired to read and he undressed rapidly.

Tired though he was, sleep was slow in coming to him as his mind went over the events of recent hours. Bob wondered just what Tully Ross was thinking and doing, for Tully had been his rival in seeking a solution to the mystery of the radio secrets.

Tully, also a clerk in the archives division of the War Department, had an uncle, Condon Adams, who, like Merritt Hughes, was a federal agent. Both Tully and his uncle had worked on the radio case, but by dint of Bob’s good fortune and sharp detective work Bob and his uncle had solved the case before Tully and his uncle could find the solution. In spite of this, Tully had been made an agent in the bureau of investigation and there was every indication that the rivalry which had started when they were clerks in the War Department would continue in their new work.

Bob was just dropping asleep when the telephone beside his bed rang sharply. He turned on the light and picked up the instrument, all thought of sleep now gone from his mind. Could it be his first assignment?

“Hello? Hello?” said Bob anxiously.

But there was no reply over the wire and Bob clicked the receiver hook several times, finally deciding that the call must have been the wrong number.

When Bob finally did get to sleep he slept with the heaviness of complete nervous and physical exhaustion. It was mid-forenoon and the sun was streaming in his windows when he finally awakened. There had been no instructions to him on when to report for his new work and he took a shower and dressed leisurely.

Bob stepped out of the apartment building and took a deep breath of the crisp air of the mid-fall morning. Then he walked down the street to a small shop where he usually had his breakfast.

After ordering his breakfast he picked up a morning paper on his table and his eyes instantly focused on the headlines in the center of the front page:

“FEDERAL AGENTS CAPTURE GANG OF RADIO THIEVES”

Bob read the story with avid attention. Here in detail was related on the front page of one of the nation’s great newspapers the complete story of the part he had played in rounding up the gang of radio thieves. Bob looked up from the paper. His face felt flushed and he knew he appeared highly self-conscious, but no one seemed to be noticing him and he resumed his reading of the story.

It was evident that the reporter who had written the story must have obtained his information from a federal agent, but Bob knew that there was a rule in the department that all information of this type must come from the head of the department. He was quite sure that Waldo Edgar had not given out the story. As Bob read further the conviction grew that Tully Ross must have supplied the facts for the newspaper story, for a great deal of credit had been given to Tully for things which he had not done.

Bob dropped the paper in disgust. That was just like Tully to attempt to claim credit for something which someone else had done.

Bob finished his breakfast, paid his bill and started walking toward the Department of Justice Building. He had gone a little more than a block when a car pulled along the curb and the driver stuck his head out the window.

“Want a lift, Bob?” asked a pleasant voice and Bob turned to face Lieutenant Gibbons, War Department intelligence officer, who had helped him in the solution of the radio mystery.

Bob climbed into the coupé and Lieutenant Gibbons sent the car shooting down the avenue, dodging in and out of the heavy mid-forenoon stream of traffic.

“Quite a story in the morning papers,” smiled the lieutenant.

Bob nodded.

“Looks like Tully Ross has been doing a little personal press agenting,” he said. “Personally, I’m not very strong for that sort of thing.”

“Neither am I,” said the lieutenant, “but some people seem to live on a diet of publicity and I guess Tully is one of that kind.”

The lieutenant wheeled his coupé up in front of the Department of Justice Building and Bob stepped out.

“Thanks a lot for the lift,” he said.

“Oh, that’s all right, Bob. I wonder when we’ll be working on a case again?”

“That’s hard to say,” grinned Bob. “Hope it will be soon.”

With that he turned and entered the building while Lieutenant Gibbons resumed his journey.

Bob took an elevator to the top floor where the head of the bureau of investigation had his offices. A clerk in the anteroom took his name and looked up sharply as he consulted an appointment chart on his desk.

“I think Mr. Edgar is expecting you,” he said, “for your name is on his call list this morning.”

Bob looked eagerly at the clerk.

“Does this mean I’m going to be assigned to a case?” he asked.

“I can’t say,” replied the clerk, “but I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ll send in your name at once. Just have a seat and wait for a few minutes.”

Bob was the only one in the anteroom and he sat down on a padded bench beside the clerk’s desk, with a growing feeling that within a few minutes he would be called in and assigned on his first case as a full time federal agent.

Chapter II
A NEW CASE
★

Bob had been waiting in the anteroom less than five minutes when the door banged open and Tully Ross almost catapulted into the room. Tully was about the last person in the world that Bob wanted to see just then but he grinned and made the best of it.

“Hello, Tully. What’s all the hurry?” he asked.

Tully stopped abruptly and stared at Bob. There was no friendliness in the glance that swept Bob from head to foot.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he blurted out.

“That goes for me, too,” replied Bob. “That was quite a story you gave the reporters last night.”

A deep flush swept over Tully’s face but he was quick to deny the implications in Bob’s words.

“What story do you mean?” he asked sharply.

“I guess you know what I mean,” said Bob evenly. “I thought it was a rule of this department not to give out news stories.”

“You’re on the wrong track,” Tully insisted; but Bob knew by the expression on Tully’s face that Tully had given out the news story, thereby violating one of the rules of the department.

Tully sat down on a bench on the other side of the room facing Bob. He was silent for less than a minute for he could not check his curiosity.

“Have you been assigned to a case yet?” he asked. There was an envious note in his voice.

“Not yet, but I expect to get an assignment soon,” said Bob. “Have you a new assignment?”

“I’m expecting one this morning,” replied Tully confidently. “In fact, that’s why I’m here.”

The clerk in charge of the room returned and asked Tully’s name and business.

“Mr. Edgar will be ready to see both of you in a minute or two,” the clerk advised them.

A buzzer on the clerk’s desk whirred and the official stepped to the door, opened it and motioned for Bob and Tully to enter the private office.

Waldo Edgar, the slender, wiry head of the bureau of investigation looked up from behind the pile of papers on his desk. Bob saw a copy of one of the morning papers spread out in front of the federal chief and he knew that both he and Tully were quite likely to be in for some unpleasant moments.

“Good morning, boys,” said Mr. Edgar, but there was little warmth in his voice and he left them standing in front of his desk as he pointed to the story in the paper in front of him. His gaze centered on Bob.

“Are you responsible for this story, Bob?” he asked.

The young federal agent’s denial was quick and confident.

“I didn’t know a thing about the story until I read it at breakfast this morning,” he said.

“This seems to be a pretty accurate account of what actually took place in the roundup of the gang responsible for the theft of the radio secrets,” said the federal chief. “The information could have been supplied only by someone in our own department and you know there is a rule against giving out such information.”

“I know there is such a rule,” said Bob, “and I can assure you that I have talked to no one.”

Bob’s straightforward words seemed to satisfy the federal chief and he shifted his gaze to Tully, who was standing uneasily on first one foot and then the other.

“What have you to say for yourself, Tully?”

The question was short and pointed and Bob saw Tully’s eyes shift away from those of Waldo Edgar.

“I guess I’m to blame for the story,” confessed Tully. “You see it was this way—”

But Tully’s explanation was cut short.

“I’m not interested in how you happened to talk,” said the federal chief. “However, I am glad that you have admitted your indiscretion so readily. In the future be sure to keep this rule in mind. It is your job to solve the cases assigned to you and to keep out of the headlines and off the front pages of the newspapers. The less publicity we have the more effective can be our work.”

After delivering that short but pointed lecture Waldo Edgar picked up a file of papers on his desk and skimmed through them hurriedly.

“I called both of you in at this time,” he explained, “because I am assigning you on the same case.”

Bob glanced sharply at Tully and there was a deep scowl on his rival’s face. The exchange of glances was not lost to Waldo Edgar for he was aware of the rivalry between his youngest agents.

“I realize quite well that both of you are intensely interested in winning advancement in this department,” he went on. “For that very reason I know that when I assign you to a case you will leave nothing undone until you find the solution. You may step on one another’s toes in reaching your goal but you get results and that is what I want.”

The federal chief once more consulted the file on his desk.

“The mission I am going to send you on is one which has baffled some of the best men in the customs service. In other words, I am counting on you two youngsters, with your enthusiasm and determination, to get to the bottom of one of the most difficult cases that has been assigned to this department in recent years.”

Bob, looking down at the desk in front of him, saw a number of letters which bore the insignia of the customs service. Several of them were post-marked from cities in Florida. In addition, there were several letters from Paris and London.

“When I tell you that I am assigning you to this case, don’t think I’m altogether foolish, for both Merritt Hughes and Condon Adams will be working with you,” said the federal chief.

Bob knew what that meant. There would be the same rivalry which had marked the radio mystery with Condon Adams and Tully Ross attempting to solve the case before Bob and his uncle could find the solution.

“I have already had Adams and Hughes in here this morning and have explained in detail this case. They have departed on their own assignments and I shall expect both of you to be on your way to Florida early in the afternoon.

“Briefly it will be your task to help bring to justice one of the most daring band of jewel smugglers that has ever operated between Europe and the United States. They are so clever and daring that they have defied the efforts of the best detectives in the customs service and we have been appealed to for aid in solving the case. Actually, we have very little to go upon.

“Apparently this is a small but very versatile band of men. Just how they get the jewels into this country is one of the mysteries which you must solve. One of the few things that we do know is that they apparently are operating off the Florida coast, reaching this country by the means of small, fast boats. It is going to be your task to attempt to find the base along the Florida coast where they center their operations.”

Waldo Edgar swung around in his chair and turned to a large map of the United States which covered the entire wall behind his desk. He picked up a pointer and touched several spots on the Florida section on the map.

“Bob,” he instructed, “you are to proceed as rapidly as possible to Atalissa, a small town on the coast. That is to be your headquarters for we know that somewhere in the territory adjacent to Atalissa these smugglers have been operating. I must warn you now that you must use every precaution to keep your identity secret for this particular section of the Florida coast is not friendly toward federal men.”

The pointer in the hand of the federal chief moved further along the map until it paused once more at a coastal town.

“You are to go to Nira,” he instructed Tully. “I consider that this is as far south as the smugglers are operating while Atalissa is the northern point. Somewhere between these two bases I am sure you will be able to uncover information which will be of real value to us.”

Waldo Edgar turned back from the map and faced his young agents. There was just a trace of a smile on his lips.

“Think you can handle this assignment?” he asked.

Bob was the first to reply.

“I’ll handle it if I have to swim along the whole coast of Florida,” he said.

Waldo Edgar chuckled. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“How about my uncle and Merritt Hughes?” asked Tully. “Will they be working in the same territory?”

“Yes, they are working on the Florida angle of the case and I expect you to keep them advised of any developments which you are able to uncover. You can reach them in Jacksonville and their telephone number will be given to you before you leave Washington this afternoon. If you call here at one o’clock, your complete transportation and expense money will be ready for you as well as a written file of all the information which we now have about the jewel smugglers. Can you be ready by one o’clock?”

“I can go now,” said Bob.

“Better go home and throw an extra shirt or two and some socks into a traveling bag,” advised the federal chief. “I like to see plenty of enthusiasm, but you may be gone a good many weeks and you should be thoroughly prepared for a strenuous trip. If you have boots and some good heavy clothes, be sure to put them in your bag and by all means do not go unarmed.”

Waldo Edgar stood up and shook hands with each of them.

“I will not see you again before you go, but I expect great things from both of you. I shall watch your reports with interest.”

Chapter III
“GOOD LUCK”
★

Bob and Tully left the office of the federal chief together and descended in the same elevator to the first floor. Both of them were stirred by a strong feeling of elation for this was their first assignment since becoming federal agents.

Bob would have liked to talk the case over with his uncle, but he knew now that Merritt Hughes was already on his way to Florida and whatever Bob was to do on the case he would have to do alone.

“Seems to me you get all the best of these assignments,” grumbled Tully. “I know something about Florida and Nira is just about the last place in the world I want to go to.”

“I don’t see why you should complain,” said Bob, “even though Nira may not be a very pleasant place, for you have a distinct advantage over me since I have never been to Florida.”

They parted as they walked out of the building, and Bob, hailing a taxicab, sped toward the apartment building where he made his home.

Packing was a comparatively simple thing for Bob. He pulled a serviceable but battered Gladstone bag out of the closet and opened it upon the bed.

Fortunately he had a large supply of freshly laundered clothes and he packed one side of the bag solid with shirts, socks and underwear. That done he went back to the closet and rummaged around until he found an old hunting outfit of corduroy trousers and coat.

From one corner of the closet he pulled a pair of heavy boots which were soft and pliable. The woolen socks which he pulled from the boots had been almost consumed by moths and Bob threw the socks away, making a mental note that he would have to buy more either in Washington or when he arrived in Florida.

On the third trip to the closet Bob returned with a well-worn gun case in his hands. He opened the brown leather case and drew forth a special hunting rifle which had been given to him by his uncle several years before.

The gun had received excellent care as the gleaming barrel indicated, and Bob, sitting down on the edge of the bed, caressed it with hands that were almost affectionate. He had nicknamed the gun “Ezekiel” after an eccentric old hunter he had known in his home town in Iowa.

Bob, although not a remarkable shot with a rifle, could be classed as better than average, for his eyesight was good and his finger was steady in its pull on the trigger.

The young federal agent examined the gun carefully. There was more than a good chance that it might be called into use if his Florida trip developed all of the possibilities Waldo Edgar had indicated. Bob sighted through the barrel of the gun and smiled to himself as he noted the cleanness of the bore, for he prided himself on the care which he had given the weapon.

There was a small box of ammunition in the gun case and Bob examined the shells. They had been in the case for three months but there was no reason to believe that they had deteriorated for the gun case had been kept in a warm, dry place.

Bob slipped the rifle back into the case, which was just long enough to fit into his Gladstone bag. He folded up his corduroy outfit and placed this on top of the rifle. Then the boots went in and on top of them he jammed several soft flannel shirts that could be worn a reasonable time without laundering. It was impossible to foretell just what he would encounter in Florida and he wanted to be prepared for every possible emergency.

The packing had taken longer than Bob had expected and when he looked at his watch he realized that there was little time to lose if he expected to reach the justice department building for his one o’clock appointment. Bob jammed his shaving outfit in on top of his clothes and closed the bag. It fairly bulged with the articles he had packed away and the big case was both clumsy and heavy to carry.

Bob looked around his room as he paused at the door. It might be weeks before he would return and he would miss the orderly pleasantness of the room with his comfortable chair and his excellent books.

Then he closed and locked the door and walked down the hallway as rapidly as he could with his heavy bag. He summoned a taxi and started for the Department of Justice Building where detailed instructions were awaiting him.

The ride down town took less than ten minutes and Bob reached the building at five minutes to one, just in time to see Tully Ross precede him through the main entrance.

Bob paid his taxi fare and then left his heavy bag at the information desk on the main floor while he was whirled upward in an elevator. The same clerk who had greeted him that morning was on duty in the outer office and Tully, seated on a bench, was opening a large Manila envelope.

“Your instructions, train tickets, expense money and data on the case are all in this envelope,” said the clerk, handing a similar container to Bob. “Your train leaves at 1:30 so I suggest that you get to the station at once and then go into the details of this case after you are on your way south.”

“Thanks a lot,” nodded Bob. “I’m on my way.”

“Good luck,” said the clerk, who looked enviously after Bob, for after all there were not very many thrills in clerical work.

Chapter IV
TULLY’S CHALLENGE
★

Tully Ross followed Bob into the elevator and they dropped toward the first floor.

“I guess we’re taking the same train as far as Jacksonville,” said Tully. “What a pleasure that’s going to be!”

Tully’s last words were sneering and vindictive, and a little of Bob’s pent-up resentment burst out. Fortunately no one else was in the elevator at the time.

“You’d better take inventory of yourself, Tully,” advised Bob, “or you’re going to run head-on into trouble. I haven’t got it in for you and you can take full credit for anything that you do. Don’t be so blamed suspicious of everything. You do your work and I’ll do mine. The main thing is going to be to solve this case and I don’t care who does it just as long as we are successful. If you’d only warm up a little we could go over this case on the way south this afternoon and we might have some ideas that we could both benefit by.”

Tully looked suspicious.

“What are you getting at?” he asked.

They were on the main floor again and passengers bound for the upper floors swept into the elevator.

“We’ll take a taxi together to the station and I’ll tell you on the way there,” said Bob.

Tully had two smaller bags while Bob had only the large gladstone and they loaded the bags and themselves into a taxi and started for the union station.

“I’m just trying to get at this,” said Bob. “Both of us have chances for brilliant futures in this service if we don’t let personal rivalry warp our better judgment. That was a shabby trick of yours in giving that story to the newspapers and I rather think you hoped that I would be blamed.”

Tully was silent and Bob went on.

“I’m willing to let that pass and some other things that have happened if you feel that you’re willing to work along with me on this case. The old saying that two heads are better than one is certainly true in this kind of work and we can both benefit by it. What do you say?”

Bob’s clear, blue eyes bored deep into Tully’s brown ones and he held out his hand.

Tully held Bob’s gaze for a moment and then his eyes shifted uneasily. He made no motion to take Bob’s proffered hand.

“Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, I’m glad that we have had a definite understanding,” said Bob.

“I guess that’s the way it’s got to be,” said Tully slowly. “I don’t like you, Bob, and there’s no use in making any bones about it. I’m going to solve this case even if I have to step all over you in doing it.”

“Well, Tully, you just run along and do your best; but I’m serving fair warning on you right now that if you try to step on any of my toes, you’ll wish you hadn’t. There’s only one way to play this game and that’s to play it fair and square. I’m going to play it that way and I’m going to win and nothing that you can do will stop me. If it is humanly possible that case will be solved within the next few weeks.”

Tully looked squarely at Bob.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked.

“Call it anything you like.”

“Then I say that you won’t solve it in two months if you solve it at all.”

“Two months it is,” retorted Bob, “and by that I mean that every angle of this case will be cleaned up and either all of the men connected with it in federal custody or beyond our reach and you can put that down in writing if you want to.”

“I won’t do that,” sneered Tully, “for it might be too embarrassing to have to have it recalled when you fail.”

“I’m not going to fail,” said Bob firmly, and although Tully wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, he had a premonition that Bob was right—that he would not fail.

Chapter V
ON THE SOUTHERN LIMITED
★

The taxi pulled up in front of the union station and Bob and Tully, spurning the offers of red caps, carried their luggage into the huge structure.

The great terminal was alive with activity and through the loud speaker system the departures of half a dozen famous trains were being announced.

Bob’s Gladstone was too heavy to carry very far without shifting it from hand to hand. When he reached the train shed he put the bag down beside him and opened the envelope in which his tickets had been placed. His Pullman reservation called for lower five in car 43 on train number 7, the Southern Limited. Tully paused beside Bob.

“Are you in car 43?” he asked.

“Lower five,” said Bob.

“Humph,” grunted Tully. “What luck I have. There must have been some mistake. I’m in upper five.”

“No, I don’t think there was any mistake,” grinned Bob as he visualized how Tully, who was inclined to stoutness, would look scrambling in and out of upper five that night. “Perhaps the clerk who made out these tickets thought you needed a little exercise.”

Picking up their bags they walked to the nearest train gate where the ticket inspector checked their tickets and waved them toward the Southern Limited, which was standing on track number three.

Car 43, in which they were to make their journey southward, was near the center of the train and by the time Bob and Tully were comfortably seated in the car, the porters were making their final calls of “’bo-o-oard.” The Southern Limited started slowly but easily picked up speed as the trucks clicked over the joints.

Travel that day was light and there was only one other passenger on the car, a man who appeared to be about forty, short, dark, but marked with a distinguishing streak of grey in the center of his head. He was the type of man who, though he attracted attention, did not invite acquaintanceship.

Tully continued to grumble at intervals, complaining that it was grossly unfair for Bob to have a lower berth while he was compelled to climb into an upper.

But Bob ignored Tully’s complaints. The train was soon speeding into Virginia and with the capital behind Bob took out the envelope with the history of the case they were working on. Since they were practically alone on the car it would be an ideal time to go over this material and memorize in detail all of the essential information contained in it.

Tully likewise pulled out the heavy manila envelope which contained a copy of the same report Bob had in his hands but instead of reading it there Tully went forward into the smoking compartment. Bob knew that Tully did not smoke so it was obvious that Tully had gone forward simply to get away from him.

There were a dozen closely typed sheets in the report and they reviewed in detail all of the activities of the jewel smugglers which were known to the federal officials. As he read, Bob was astounded at the daring with which the smuggling was conducted.

The reports indicated clearly that the headquarters for the smuggling operations must lie somewhere along the east coast of Florida and the names of both Nira and Atalissa appeared frequently in the typed reports. It was evident that at least half a dozen federal men, most of them in the customs service, had been working on the case at various times.

There was one paragraph in their report that struck Bob with unusual force. It read:

“A conservative estimate of the amount of jewels which the gang has smuggled into this country in the last six months would be at least half a million dollars. There is no way of knowing just how extensive are their operations. Agents are especially warned to use great care in any approach to any members of this gang. Agents working on this case should go armed at all times. It is imperative that the men responsible for these operations be taken into custody at the earliest possible time.”

Bob read this paragraph several times and it brought home to him the possible dangers which he might face in the coming weeks.

The other passenger in the car whose seat was behind Bob got up and went forward into the smoking compartment where Tully had gone previously.

Bob looked up as the man went past him. The stranger was powerfully built and Bob especially noticed the breadth and strength of his hands.

Bob thought little of the incident but hoped that Tully would have the good sense to put away the secret papers when the stranger entered the smoking compartment. As the train sped through the fertile Virginia farm lands the young federal agent continued his perusal of the report.

The concluding paragraph was such that he read it three or four times.

“From all information at hand, it appears obvious that not more than five men are involved in this smuggling enterprise. So far we have been unable to identify positively any member of the gang so all agents are doubly warned against any incautious remarks which might indicate the reason for their visit to Florida. In case of any unusual emergency notify headquarters by long distance telephone at once.”

Bob went back over the report again in detail and, when he had finished, placed it in the sturdy envelope, sealed it, and put it in his Gladstone bag. He felt now that he knew as much about the case as it was possible to learn until he actually reached Atalissa.

After a time Bob walked forward and stepped into the smoking compartment where Tully and the stranger were engaged in animated conversation.

Tully looked up but there was little warmth in his glance. That, however, did not deter Bob from sitting down on one of the comfortable leather upholstered benches. The stranger looked at Bob and a rather pleasant smile framed his lips.

“Going to Florida?” he asked.

“Jacksonville,” said Bob laconically.

“That’s fine, I’m going there too. Hamsa, Joe Hamsa, is the name,” said the stranger reaching over and extending his hand in greeting.

Bob grasped the extended hand but he winced slightly at the strength of the other’s grip.

“I’m Bob Houston of Washington,” replied Bob by way of introducing himself.

“Going south on business or just taking a vacation?” asked Joe Hamsa and Bob thought there was a peculiar flicker in the other’s eyes.

“Well, it’s a combination of both,” replied Bob.

“Wish I could say as much,” went on Hamsa, “but it’s all business with me. I’m glad you boys are on the car today. I don’t like to travel alone and especially at night.”

Bob wondered just why Mr. Hamsa, who appeared perfectly capable of taking care of himself, did not care to travel alone. He was not in doubt long for Hamsa suddenly developed a voluble streak.

“Diamonds are my specialty,” he said, “and I’ve been held up once or twice. Believe me, there’s no fun in that.”

Mr. Hamsa did not look particularly like the type of man who would submit to a holdup peacefully, and there was something about him that aroused suspicions in Bob’s mind.

The young federal agent glanced across the compartment to where Tully was seated and he was surprised to note that the papers in the confidential report on the smuggling ring were scattered on the seat beside Tully.

What was even more astounding was the pallor of Tully’s face, and the glassy stare in his eyes.

“Tully,” cried Bob, “what’s the matter?”

But there was no response from Tully except a slight twitching of his lips which indicated that he might be trying to answer.

“Tully,” repeated Bob, “what’s the matter?”

The sharp questions voiced by the young federal agent caused Hamsa also to turn and stare at Tully.

Bob was less than six feet away from Tully, yet the other failed to answer his questions or to give any sign of recognition. He sat there like a man under a hypnotic spell.

Bob leaped to his feet and in one long stride was beside Tully. With firm hands he grasped Tully’s shoulders and shook him vigorously.

Tully’s head dropped forward on his chest and he seemed suddenly to collapse, sliding forward off the leather bench and falling to the floor.

Chapter VI
STRANGE EVENTS
★

Tully’s collapse came so suddenly that Bob was unable to check his fall to the floor, but he leaned down almost instantly and lifted Tully back on one of the benches.

Bob’s face was close to Tully’s and he caught a whiff of an acrid smell on Tully’s breath. His companion’s breathing was slow and distinctly labored.

Bob grasped one of Tully’s wrists and checked the pulse beat. His knowledge of first aid was somewhat limited, but the steadiness of the pulse count reassured him and he decided that Tully had probably fallen victim to a sudden fainting attack.

Joe Hamsa leaned over Bob and attempted to aid him in ministering to Tully.

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

“Get a cup of water,” said Bob, and Hamsa hastened away to do his bidding. He was back soon with the paper cup brimming full of water. Bob moistened his handkerchief in this and bathed Tully’s cheeks and forehead while Hamsa loosened his tie and collar, and massaged his wrists.

Just then the Pullman conductor came into the compartment.

“What’s doing here?” he asked.

Bob answered without looking up.

“I think my companion suffered a fainting attack. Have you any smelling salts?”

“I have some in my first aid kit up ahead,” replied the conductor, departing to obtain it.

He returned in less than a minute with the smelling salts and Bob gave Tully several deep sniffs from the pungent smelling bottle. The penetrating qualities of the salts seemed to reach Tully’s subconscious mind and draw away the curtain which had clouded his consciousness. He made an effort to rouse himself but Bob speaking in a low voice forced him back on the leather bench.

“Take it easy, Tully,” he advised. “You’ll feel stronger in a short time.”

Tully opened his eyes and stared at them. It was evident that he had no idea what had happened to him.

Bob, who had been somewhat concerned when he saw the sheets of Tully’s confidential report laying out in the open, now took time to look for them. They were still scattered on one of the leather benches and as far as Bob could determine they had not been disturbed. He reached out and with the sweep of one hand brushed them into a pile at one corner of the bench. Fortunately they had been turned face down, and Bob felt sure that there had been no opportunity for either Hamsa or the Pullman conductor to read the contents.

Tully attempted to sit up and Bob’s attention returned to his unfortunate traveling companion. Tully still appeared shaken but his eyes were clearer and once more there was a touch of color in his cheeks.

Tully signalled that he would like a drink of water and Hamsa hurried away to fill another paper cup from the tank in the vestibule. When he returned Tully took several deep draughts of the water and he appeared greatly refreshed.

“I don’t know what happened,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly. “My mind seems so heavy. I can’t think.”

“Better take it easy for a while,” advised Bob. “Here, stretch out on this couch. I’ll get the porter to bring you a blanket.”

Bob stepped out and called the porter who was in the other end of the car, and, thus far, unaware that anything unusual had taken place in the smoking compartment. At Bob’s instructions he brought a blanket and placed it over Tully. Then he brought in a pillow and the federal agent was made as comfortable as possible.

“Want me to make up a berth?” asked the porter, but Tully shook his head.

“Not now. I’ll be all right here. Just let me rest.”

Bob’s keen eyes roved around the smoking compartment. The papers which had been in Tully’s confidential envelope had been placed on the opposite couch, evidently by Hamsa or the Pullman conductor. Bob caught a quick glance from Tully and sensed that the other wanted the papers put away at once.

The young federal agent stepped over to the leather couch, scooped up the sheets of typewritten paper, and placed them in the envelope.

“Thanks,” said Tully, when Bob handed the package to him. He slipped the documents into an inner pocket of his coat, closed his eyes, and was soon in a deep sleep.

This might have been alarming had not Tully’s breathing been deep and natural and the color in his cheeks more normal.

“I think he’s coming around all right,” said Hamsa, who had remained in the smoking compartment. “Looks to me like it might have been an attack of acute indigestion.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Bob, but for his own satisfaction he would have preferred to have a doctor examine Tully. He stepped outside into the corridor to speak to the Pullman conductor.

“Do you know if there is a doctor on the train?” he asked.

“I don’t believe so. We’re running light today but I’ll find out; your friend any worse?”

“No. He’s better, but I’d like to find out just what happened to him.”

“I can wire ahead and have an ambulance meet us at the next division point,” suggested the conductor.

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” replied Bob. “We’re anxious to get to Jacksonville on this train. However, I wish you would ascertain if there is a doctor aboard.”

As the trainman hurried away, Bob stepped back into the smoking compartment. There was something definitely puzzling and disturbing about the sudden illness which had overtaken Tully, for the latter was usually in the best of health.

Bob thought back over the days of their association in the archives division of the War Department, trying to remember if Tully had ever been the subject of sudden fainting spells. As far as he could recall, nothing like this had occurred before, which did not make his mind rest any easier.

Hamsa wandered out of the smoking compartment and Bob and Tully were alone. Half an hour slipped by and Tully remained in the deep sleep.

The train had stopped once, a long halt for coal and water, and it was after it resumed motion that the Pullman conductor returned to the compartment.

“I’ve been all over the train, even into the day coaches ahead, and there isn’t even a veterinarian aboard. Sure you don’t want us to wire for an ambulance to meet you? We’ll be in at the next division point in an hour and a half.”

“I’ll let you know definitely a little later. If he doesn’t rouse from this sleep, it may be necessary to do just that.”

“Anything more I can do?” asked the conductor, but Bob shook his head.

“I’ll stay here and watch him. If I need any help, I’ll signal for the porter.”

The curtains at the doorway swished down behind the departing figure of the conductor, leaving Bob and Tully alone once more.

The afternoon was waning as the train sped southward, the steady clicking of the trucks underneath indicating that the Limited was doing at least a mile a minute. The roadbed was smooth and the high speed did not make the car ride uncomfortably.

While Tully was asleep, Bob studied his companion’s face. Tully’s features were really remarkably strong and if he made an effort to look pleasant he would have been a handsome young man. But his lips were inclined to a perpetual downward curve that made it appear that a steady scowl was on his face.

Bob would have enjoyed liking Tully, for there were many qualities in the other that were outstanding. For instance, Tully was sturdy and he had the power to drive steadily toward a goal once he set his ambition to that end. It was too bad that he let personal feelings creep into his work and sway his better judgment, such as challenging Bob to beat him to a solution of the jewel smuggling case.

Bob was a better than average judge of character and he knew that Tully would worry so much about what he was doing that Tully’s own keen mind would be somewhat dulled on the case. For that reason Bob had not hesitated to take up the challenge.

The Limited plunged into a short but heavy rain storm and drops of water streamed down the windows. It was not an especially auspicious beginning to their manhunt.

Tully moved restlessly and Bob thought for a time that his companion was about to wake up, but Tully’s breathing deepened once more and his eyes remained closed.

Joe Hamsa stuck his head into the compartment.

“Any change?” he asked, and Bob thought he appeared a little too solicitous for a passing acquaintance.

“I think he’s resting easier,” replied Bob.

“Are you going to take him to a hospital?” asked Hamsa, pressing Bob for further information on his plans.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Let me know if there is anything I can do,” volunteered the other. It was apparent that he would have liked an invitation to stay in the room, but Bob turned toward the rain-washed windows and after a brief pause Hamsa dropped the curtain at the doorway and walked back into the Pullman.

Chapter VII
THE MAN ON THE PLATFORM
★

Tully remained in the deep sleep for another fifteen minutes. Then he stirred restlessly and Bob went over to his side. As he looked down Tully opened his eyes. They appeared clear and perfectly normal.

Tully attempted to sit up, but Bob put his hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back on the couch.

“Take it easy for a while, Tully,” he said.

“What happened?” the other demanded, and Bob noted that the words were slow and his speech thick.

Then before he could answer, Tully grunted and made a face.

“Get me some water, quick.”

Bob hastened out into the corridor where he filled a paper cup to the brim. Tully drank every drop and signaled for another cup, which Bob procured immediately.

When that was done, Tully appeared greatly refreshed.

“Help me prop this pillow up so I can sit up a little,” he urged Bob, and he was soon in a more comfortable position.

The rain still washed the windows of the car, and the porter, entering the compartment, turned on the top lights, for it was nearly dark.

Before he spoke again Tully felt inside his coat and, reassured that the documents on the jewel smuggling case were there, he looked at Bob.

“I don’t remember very much,” he said slowly, “but all of a sudden everything went dark. I felt that I was going to fall but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even reach out my hands and neither could I say a word.”

He paused and Bob felt that it would be well for him to explain what he had seen.

“You looked like you were hypnotized,” he explained. “I came over and caught you, but you were out cold. Believe me, you had us worried for a while.”

Just then the Pullman conductor looked in.

“Made up your mind about calling an ambulance at the division point?” he asked. Then he saw Tully propped into a half-way sitting position and his face brightened.

“Coming around now?”

“He’s feeling better. We’ll go right on through to Jacksonville,” said Bob and the conductor went on about his duties.

“Didn’t you think I’d come around?” asked Tully, a look of worry on his forehead.

“We didn’t know just what was happening for a while,” explained Bob. “You had us pretty badly scared.”

Tully looked thoughtful.

“I honestly don’t know what took place,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “It seemed as though blackness simply exploded in my face. Actually I believe there was some kind of a shock or blow on my face.”

“I don’t know what it could have been,” replied Bob. “Hamsa and I were the only ones with you and you had been visiting with Hamsa for some time before I came in.”

“He’s a queer duck,” muttered Tully. “I don’t know whether I could like or trust him.”

Bob had exactly the same feeling and he was interested to know Tully’s reaction to their traveling companion.

“I’m still kind of sleepy. Guess I’ll take another nap. You might tell the porter to make up my berth.”

“I’ll have him fix up lower five for you,” replied Bob. “I’ll take the upper for you probably won’t feel much like climbing in and out of a berth for the next few hours. Think you’ll want anything to eat tonight?”

“Perhaps a little soup later,” nodded Tully as he closed his eyes.

Bob remained in the compartment for several minutes until he was sure that Tully was in a deep and comfortable sleep. Then he returned to the main section of the Pullman.

As he turned in the corridor and could look down the full length of the car he thought he caught just a glimpse of Hamsa dodging out the other end of the car.

Only a few lights were on and Bob could not be sure that his eyes were not playing tricks on him. In any event he hastened his pace and when he reached the section which he and Tully occupied he drew his big Gladstone bag out from under one of the seats.

Bob breathed easier when he saw the envelope which contained the confidential information on the smuggling was just where he had left it. It had been more than a little careless of him to leave such valuable data unprotected for so long a time.