Chapter XXII

A HARD ASSIGNMENT
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It was a hard assignment to take, but Bob acquiesced. He would have preferred to remain in Jacksonville and search for his uncle, but he realized the logic in Waldo Edgar’s deductions.

“Keep in close touch with me, Bob, and if it looks like things are going to break down the coast, we’ll get help to you. Keep your chin up now, and give them all you’ve got.”

The receiver on the far end of the line clicked and Bob hung up the instrument he had used. The night captain stuck his head in the door.

“I’ve sent word to the coast guard to keep a close watch for any unusual boat. Maybe they’ll be able to turn up something.”

“But we don’t know it was an unusual boat,” protested Bob.

“Well, we didn’t have any description and I had to tell them something,” said the policeman.

They returned to the main desk. The night captain was curious.

“Lot of federal men coming in?” he asked.

But Bob was noncommittal. He would be going further south in a few hours and the search for clues here would be turned over to Condon Adams. One thing he did need, was a good revolver and ammunition for the rifle.

He made known his wants to the night captain.

“It isn’t the usual thing, but I guess we can fix you up,” said the policeman.

He called another officer to take charge of the desk and led the way into a rear room where there was a whole rack of guns.

“Look these over and take your choice.”

The night captain opened the case and Bob tried half a dozen revolvers in his hand until he found one that was balanced to suit him.

“This feels like a good gun,” he said. “I’ll take it.”

From another case the captain produced a generous supply of ammunition.

“There’s a range downstairs if you’d like to try your marksmanship,” he volunteered.

Bob knew that in the coming hours he might find himself in a position where a trusty gun would be a life saver and he accepted the captain’s invitation.

His finger was steady and the pressure on the trigger smooth. As a result he turned in a surprisingly good score and the policeman whistled when he saw the card Bob shot out.

“Good work, boy. Anytime you get tired of this federal manhunting just let me know and I’ll see that you have a job here.”

“Thanks a lot,” replied Bob. “I may have to call on you if this case isn’t solved successfully.”

When they returned upstairs the captain rummaged through the ammunition chest and finally found some cartridges which would fit Bob’s rifle. A shoulder holster was also borrowed and Bob adjusted the straps so that it fitted neatly under his coat.

After thanking the night captain for his assistance, Bob returned to the hotel. Another inquiry at the desk revealed that there had been no word from his uncle and Bob went upstairs.

His body was tired from the strain of the last few hours and he took a warm shower, topping it off with a cold spray that sent the blood tingling through his body. Then he dressed in fresh clothes and stretched out on the bed for a little relaxation before going to the train to meet Condon Adams.

Bob would have preferred to remain in Jacksonville to lead the hunt for his uncle, but he knew that Adams was both capable and ruthless and when a federal agent was kidnaped, personal feelings which Adams might have toward his uncle would vanish.

Bob mulled over the preceding events and the disappearance of his uncle strengthened his belief that Hamsa had survived his fall off the trestle and into the flood waters the night before. If Hamsa had not survived, Bob doubted if his uncle would have been abducted for he knew that Hamsa would be afraid of the results when his uncle and he got to comparing notes.

The feeling that some momentous activity by the smugglers was under way grew as Bob lay there on the bed. The leaders were desperate and yet courageous enough to attempt to do away with two federal agents and having failed to do that had kidnaped a third.

Bob got up and scanned a map of Florida which he had obtained. His finger ran along the coastline until he came to Atalissa. Then he traced on down to Nira where Tully had been assigned. It was a desolate, sparsely inhabited section of the coast—an area which in centuries before had probably been a favorite hiding place for bands of pirates who had roved the Spanish main. Numerous indentations dotted the coast, offering ample shelter to men who were afraid of the law.

With a start Bob noticed the time. It was after eleven o’clock. He was taking no chances and he adjusted the shoulder holster, filled the chambers of the revolver with shells, and slipped on his coat.

At the desk downstairs he left word for the clerk to take any message which might come for him. Then he sped toward the station in a taxi. When he arrived at the terminal he found that the train Condon Adams was coming on was half an hour late, for the tracks north were still soft from the heavy rain of the preceding night.

Bob sat down to wait for the arrival of the train and as the minutes slipped away he had the feeling that he was under observation. The hair along the back of his neck tingled and he wanted to turn around and stare at those back of him. Instead, he moved once or twice as though restless and finally stood up, stretched, and strolled over to the magazine stand, where he could turn around and see the entire concourse.

Bob picked up a magazine and skimmed through the pages with fingers that turned the sheets mechanically while his keen eyes roved over the room. Finally he came back to a lightly built man who had been leaning against a radiator somewhat to the right and back of the bench on which he had been seated.

The man was dressed in a poorly fitted dark suit, wore a cap, and moved restlessly. He was the only one in the scattered gathering of people in the station whom Bob would suspect of being there to watch him.

Just then the lights flashed over an incoming train board and Bob turned and walked toward the train gates. Passengers started coming through the gate and among the first was the bulky form of Condon Adams. Bob called to him and Adams turned aside.

“How’s Tully?” asked Bob, who was really concerned over the condition of the young federal agent.

Condon Adams’ face lighted up, for he was genuinely fond of his nephew and Bob’s inquiry touched a soft spot.

“Getting along fine,” he said. “Oh, he’s pretty sore and all that, but he’ll be able to continue on his assignment in two or three more days.”

“It was a tough break,” said Bob and Adams nodded.

“What’s been going on?” he asked.

“Plenty,” replied Bob. “My uncle was kidnaped earlier this evening.”

Adams dropped his bag and whirled to Bob.

“What’s that?” he demanded, as though unable to believe the words.

“My uncle disappeared this evening and everything points to a kidnaping by this gang of smugglers we’re after,” explained Bob.

Condon Adams threw back his head and laughed, but it was a grim sort of laugh that sent chills down Bob’s neck.

“Well that’s good,” snorted Adams. “Merritt Hughes, ace federal manhunter, kidnaped. I suppose I’ll have to hunt for him now instead of the kidnapers.”

“I guess that’s about the size of things,” replied Bob slowly. “I’ve been in touch with Washington. I’m to go on south to Atalissa on my original assignment and you are to take up the hunt here for him. I’ve already got the Jacksonville police on the case. When Tully comes out of the hospital, he is to continue to Nira as first ordered.”

“Let’s get some coffee,” said Condon Adams as they walked past the entrance of the station restaurant.

The older federal agent slid his traveling bag into a corner and dropped down into a chair.

“What a mess to get into,” he said, half to himself and half to Bob. Then he looked up.

“Your uncle means quite a lot to you?”

Bob nodded. “You know he does. He got me into the service and he’s pretty much of an older brother to me.”

A waitress took their orders before Adams spoke again.

“Then you know how I feel about Tully; he’s kind of a kid brother to me. But that’s getting away from what I started to say. Your uncle and I have always been rivals in the service. One of us would solve a good case and then the other would win on the next one. He’s never liked the way I got in through a little political help, but on the whole I’ve done a pretty good job. Gosh, I wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to him to take him out of the service.”

“He may be out for good now unless we can find him,” said Bob bitterly.

“That’s just it, and Bob, differences are going to be forgotten for the time. Why I wouldn’t be happy if your uncle and I weren’t in some kind of a scrap to see who could solve a new case. We’ll find him and we’ll find him soon.”

“Then you’ll work a hundred per cent on the case?” asked Bob.

“Day and night,” promised Condon Adams, reaching across the table to clasp Bob’s hand firmly in his own and Bob knew that the older agent was a man of his word and highly competent in his own peculiar way.

Cups of steaming coffee were set before them as well as the plate of doughnuts which Adams had ordered. They attacked the lunch with a will and Bob, draining his cup of coffee a few minutes later, caught another glimpse of the slender, slouching figure he had seen in the main waiting room.

“Don’t turn around,” he said to Adams, “but when we get up, look at the little fellow in the dark cap and suit. He’s outside looking in the window. I had a feeling in the station he was watching me.”

Condon Adams reached for the checks and stood up. In reaching for his traveling bag he was able to turn toward the broad glass window and get a good view of the man Bob had described.

“I’ve never seen him before,” said Adams, “but he doesn’t look like a very savory character.”

He paid the bill for their lunch and as they stepped out of the restaurant and looked for a cab, the man in the dark suit sidled up to them.

“You guys federal men?” he asked.

Bob and Condon Adams whirled toward him.

“What of it?” barked Adams.

“I was just askin’. If you are, I’ve got a message for you.”

“Who from?” it was Bob now.

The little man shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Fellow down on the water front gave me a note to give to the federals. Said one of them was at a hotel. When I inquired there I learned he’d gone to the station so I came along and thought I’d try you.”

He reached for an inner pocket and too late Bob divined what was happening. The street they were in was quiet now and suddenly there was danger in the air.