Chapter VI

IN THE DARKENED ROOM
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Bob paused on the threshold of the long office, staring into the blackness of the room. After his recent experiences he couldn’t be blamed for hesitating a moment.

Should he close the door, back into the hall and await his uncle’s arrival or should he snap on the lights and see what had taken place in the room? It seemed to Bob that he pondered those questions for several minutes; actually it was less than five seconds.

He reached for the light switch at the left of the doorway and pushed the button. But there was no answering blaze of light; only the dead click of the switch.

Bob knew then that the lights had been tampered with, that more than likely someone was lurking in the shadowy darkness of the office. His better judgment told him to wait until he could summon assistance, but some other urge drove him on. He couldn’t explain it later; he simply went ahead.

The young filing clerk stepped across the threshold, the flashlight in his hand aimed down the center of the room. Then he turned on the flash and a beam of light cut through the darkness.

Bob gasped. The light showed papers strewn over the floor and the drawers from desks and filing cases pulled indiscriminately out and dumped on the floor.

The shock of the confusion in the office brought him up short. Then he started to swing the light about the room to determine the full extent of the damage by the marauder.

A slight noise to the right caught Bob’s attention and he turned in that direction. Instinctively he knew that danger lurked there, and he tensed his body. It came before he was ready; something hurtling out of the dark; something that struck his right hand a numbing blow; something that sent the flashlight crashing to the floor where the lens and the bulb shattered and the light went out.

But the blow sent Bob into action. He must get back to the door and get it closed; that would cut off the one avenue of escape for the intruder.

The clerk leaped backward, his hands reaching out for the doorway. He collided with someone else; someone wearing a topcoat still damp from the rain outside.

Bob thought quickly. He must find some way to stop the other if for only an instant. He drew back his right foot and swift kick connected with the unknown’s shins with such force that an involuntary cry rang through the room. Bob leaped on and crashed into the half opened door. With anxious fingers he found the key on the inside, slammed the door shut and turned the lock.

That done Bob dropped down on the floor where he would have a chance to rest, to collect his wits, and to plan his future course of action.

For a time there was no sound in the room. He could not even catch the breathing of the other man and he thought of the possibility that the other had slipped out the door before he had closed it. Then he dismissed that as an impossibility for there had not been sufficient time for that.

Bob knew every inch of the long office; knew where every desk and chair was located and every window. As his eyes became more accustomed to the dark he could pick out the lighter blots which were the windows.

Then a slight noise caught his attention. The unknown was moving, probably on his hands and knees, feeling his way toward the door. Bob couldn’t resist a chuckle as he thought of the dismay that would spread through the other when he found the door securely locked and the key missing.

Just to be on the safe side, Bob edged away from the door and sought shelter behind a nearby desk. To make sure that he would move noiselessly he slipped off his shoes and placed them beside a filing cabinet where he wouldn’t fall over them if it was necessary for him to make a sudden move.

Strangely enough Bob felt very calm. His heart beat rapidly and his breath came shorter and faster, but his mind was remarkably clear, his hands steady. He was glad now that he did not have the flashlight, for using it would only have made him a target for the marauder.

Bob wondered how long it would take his uncle to reach the scene. Probably another ten minutes, for Merritt Hughes lived a considerable distance from the building. What might happen inside that room in the next ten minutes was something that Bob didn’t care to guess about.

As Bob listened he could hear the almost noiseless movements of the other man and knew that he was nearing the door. Then he heard hands moving along the woodwork—finally the gentle turning of the doorknob. Then there was the sharp rattle of the knob as though a sudden wave of anger had swept over the man at the realization that he had been trapped in the room.

Bob moved away from the door, crawling on his hands and knees, and he kept going until he was well down the room and right at the steel cabinet where the radio documents were filed. With cautious hands he felt along the front of the case. So far the drawers had not been pulled out for they were identified only by key numbers instead of by the name of the type of papers which they contained.

This was one cabinet Bob was determined to protect, for, after what his uncle had told him earlier in the night, he felt sure that this was the object of the unknown’s visit.

Once more the doorknob was rattled sharply; then silence again shrouded the room and Bob felt his nerves tightening. It was tough waiting alone in the darkness. He wondered if the other man possessed a gun and if he would have the nerve to use it if an emergency caught him.

Bob strained his ears for some sound of the other’s maneuvers. A faint sort of “plop” made him smile. It sounded very much like a shoe being placed gently on the floor. Several seconds later there was a similar sound and Bob knew that they were now on even terms; neither one of them having his shoes on. This man was no fool; he was determined to keep his own movements as secret as possible.

Then Bob heard a sound which was anything but heartening. The unknown was coming toward him. He could hear the gentle scrape of knees as the man crawled along the floor. He was evidently feeling his way along the filing cabinets and Bob moved out toward the center of the room where he found protection between two desks, set fairly close together.

His action was not a minute too soon, for he had barely settled himself in his new position when he saw a darker shadow moving along in front of the filing cases. The man was less than six feet away, and breathing very quietly, but steadily.

Bob held his own breath as the man passed along the row of filing cases. Evidently he was going to make the rounds of the room in an effort to catch Bob by surprise, overpower him, and take away the key. Bob chuckled inwardly at that thought. He was too familiar with the room to be caught in that manner.

Moving out slightly from behind the shelter of the desks, he saw the man reach a window and raise his head so that he could look down on the street. It was a temptation that Bob couldn’t resist and he picked up an inkwell on the desk beside him, took careful aim, and hurled the heavy glass container.

Just as he threw the inkwell, Bob slipped and the noise attracted the attention of the other man. He leaped to his feet and whirled about. The glass container, instead of striking the man’s head, hit his shoulder, glanced into the window and crashed its way on out into the darkness.

There was a cry of pain from the intruder and then a sharp burst of flame as a bullet scarred the top of the desk which shielded Bob.

Bob went cold all over. There was no more fun in this thing. It was deadly serious now and he knew that his very life might depend on the events of the coming minutes for this man was cornered and capable of shooting his way out if necessary.