PICKING UP CLUES
★
When he awoke the Limited was pulling into the train shed at Jacksonville
and his uncle, Merritt Hughes, was waiting for him on the platform.
The older federal agent jumped aboard the Limited before it came to a
full stop and hastened down the aisle to the berth where Bob, still the
only occupant of the car, was partially dressed.
“How are you, Bob?” There was real anxiety in the question as Merritt
Hughes looked down on his capable young nephew.
“I’m a little stiff, but otherwise all right,” grinned Bob. “My bag is
under the berth. See if you can find a clean shirt for me.”
“Never mind the shirt now. I want to know what happened last night. We
got only the briefest word from Washington over the wires and Condon
Adams left before dawn for the hospital up the line where they took
Tully.”
“Is he all right?” asked Bob.
“I understand he’ll have to stay in bed for a couple of days.”
“What about the man we knew as Joe Hamsa?”
Merritt Hughes shook his head.
“There are no reports on him. There’s a large searching party out looking
along the banks of the stream where he disappeared, but it looks like
we’ve seen the last of him.”
Bob wished that he could have had the confidence his uncle displayed in
believing that Joe Hamsa was gone forever.
At his uncle’s urging, Bob recounted in detail everything that had taken
place after the Limited left Washington.
“So Hamsa hid out on top of the observation car?” mused the federal
agent. “Well, that’s a new one for me. No wonder you failed to find him
even though you went through the train several times.”
Bob motioned toward his bag beneath the berth, “Now how about my shirt?
Then some breakfast, and I’ll be ready to go along on my assignment.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind. You’re going to spend the rest of the day
in bed in my room at the hotel. Tomorrow we’ll talk about your going on
to Atalissa. I’m not sure that I want you to go there alone. It’s a tough
little town. People know too much there, but they won’t talk. Either
scared or in league with some illegal racket.”
“And you figure the racket is the jewel smuggling?”
Merritt Hughes nodded gravely.
“This thing is big, Bob,” he went on. “As you know from the confidential
report you got, we feel sure that only a few men are actually involved in
the ring, but they must be men of great daring and resourcefulness, for
they have managed to elude some of the best detectives.”
“Then it seems kind of foolish for me to tackle it,” said Bob, half to
himself and half to his uncle.
“Not at all. A new, younger man may have some ideas that older men in the
service would not have. You’ve had one break in getting Hamsa out of the
way and we’re sure that he was linked with the gang.”
“I guess there’s no question about that for he stole the confidential
reports Tully and I had.”
“Then what does that mean to you?” asked Bob’s uncle.
The younger agent, struggling to button a shirt collar that was too
tight, stopped and sat down on the edge of the berth.
“In the first place it means that he wanted to find out just what the
federal people knew about the operations of the gang. Then it appears
pretty obvious that he didn’t want any more federal men nosing around
Atalissa and Nira.”
“Right in both cases,” agreed Merritt Hughes. “Now what?”
“Well, it follows that there must be some good reason for this interest
in federal operations, and all I can figure out is that the gang is
getting ready to smuggle in a large amount of gems.”
“Go to the head of the class; you’ve had a perfect score. The question
now follows, what shall we do?”
“Are you going to try to demote me now?” grinned Bob.
“No, I’m just trying to find out how far along the way you’ll get by
sound deduction and logic.”
“Then I’d say that we ought to go through with our original plans and
that Tully and I proceed on to our assignments at once with additional
agents held ready to back us up if we get in a jam or things break wide
open and we need help.”
“You’re not worrying about Hamsa having escaped from the river and
getting word to the others in the gang?”
“Of course I’m thinking about that angle, but that’s a chance we’ll have
to take,” replied Bob.
“We’ll make the decision tomorrow. There may be some further advices from
Washington by that time.”
Bob finished dressing and his uncle picked up his bag and together they
walked out into the train shed.
“Breakfast is going to taste good to me,” said Bob. “Don’t waste any time
in getting there.”
“Then we’ll eat at the restaurant in the station,” decided his uncle.
Breakfast was served quickly after they placed their orders and Bob ate
the meal with real relish. Corn cakes with a thick coating of maple syrup
especially pleased him and he had a second order.
After the meal was finished, they walked through the main waiting room of
the station and to the taxi stand just beyond where Merritt Hughes
signalled for a vehicle, and they were soon speeding toward the hotel.
Bob, still stiff and sore from his encounter the night before with Joe
Hamsa, leaned back against the cushions and enjoyed the trip, for this
was his first visit to Florida. The streets were broad, the homes
hospitable and life seemed to move at a more leisurely pace than it did
in the northern cities with which he was familiar.
The hotel, a modest sized structure, was done in Spanish architecture and
his uncle had two rooms on the fourth floor looking down on an inner
court where there was a spacious swimming pool flanked by stubby palm
trees.
“Now for a shower bath and I’ll feel like I really wanted to live again,”
said Bob.
“I’ve got several reports to make out and mail to the bureau in
Washington,” said his uncle, “and I’ll get them out of the way while
you’re taking your shower.”
Bob undressed and adjusted the spray in the shower to his liking. For ten
minutes he relaxed under the soothing flow of the water and when he
finally emerged his muscles were not as sore and tight and his head felt
clearer. As he rubbed his body briskly with a heavy towel, one thought
troubled him. What had caused the sudden illness which had befallen Tully
and later had nearly struck him down on the train? While he dressed, Bob
told his uncle about these incidents.
“You say you felt something like a sharp blow on the face before you
became ill?” asked the older federal agent.
“That’s right.”
“Then you were gassed.”