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Agent Nine Solves His First Case: A Story of the Daring Exploits of the G Men

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by Graham M. Dean


  Chapter IV THE DOOR MOVES *

  Tully was in a talkative mood and at such times he displayed a pleasingpersonality. This was one of those times, but to Bob it was more than alittle irritating for he had work to do and every minute passed intalking with Tully meant additional time at his desk.

  "I've had a funny feeling lately that things were tightening up in here,"said Tully. "Even tonight this room doesn't feel just right."

  "It's the wind and the rain," said Bob, looking up from his work. "Whenthe sun is out tomorrow you'll feel much better."

  "I don't know about that. Say, Bob, you haven't heard of anything specialbreaking? Something may be coming over from the engineers that isunusually important."

  Bob couldn't honestly say no, so he made an indefinite answer.

  "There's always talk," he said.

  "Sure, I know, but this time it's different. I've heard that the radiodivision has made some startling discoveries that more than one foreignpower would give a few millions to have in its possession."

  "What, for instance?"

  "That's just it," confessed Tully. "There's only vague talk; nothing youcan put your finger on."

  "I thought they kept that stuff pretty well under cover," said Bob, whowas determined to feel out Tully and learn just how much the other clerkknew. It was evident now that Condon Adams had been talking to hisnephew, probably telling him in substance much of what Merritt Hughes haddivulged to Bob earlier in the evening and now Tully was on a fishingexpedition to learn just what Bob knew. Well, two could play that gameand Bob, his head bent over his work, smiled to himself.

  "Well, they never advertise the papers they're sending over for thepermanent files," Tully said, "but you know how things get around in thedepartment. Sometimes we have a pretty good idea what's going througheven though it is all under seal and in a special code."

  Bob nodded, for Tully was right. In spite of the secrecy which usuallysurrounded the filing of important documents, the clerks often knew whatwas going through their hands, for even the walls in Washington seemed tohave eyes and ears and whispers flitted from one department to another ina mysterious underground manner which was impossible to stop. Sometimesthe conjecture of the clerks was right; again they might all be wrong.But it was on such talk as this that secrets sometimes slipped away andinto the hands of men and women for whom they had never been intended.

  Bob's division, which filed all of the radio documents, had enjoyed aparticularly good record. The chief, Arthur Jacobs, had been in chargesince before World War days, and he had used extreme care in theselection of the personnel. There was yet to come the first major leakand Bob hoped fervently that it would not happen while he was in thedivision.

  Tully puttered around his own desk, shoving papers here and there andobviously making an effort to appear interested. Once he glanced sharplyat Bob, who was intent on his own work.

  Finally Tully stood up and walked to one of the windows. He gazed out forseveral minutes and Bob, glancing up at him, got the impression thatTully was trying to make up his mind what to do.

  The next thing Bob noticed, Tully was on the other side of the room,pulling open one of the filing cases. The floor was carpeted and hissteps from the window to the filing cases had been noiseless.

  There was no rule against a clerk opening one of the cases, for thedocuments kept there were of no major importance. Something in Tully'sattitude caught Bob's attention. Then he realized that Tully was lookinginto one of the files which was under Bob's supervision and there was astrict rule against that.

  Bob hesitated for a moment. It seemed a little foolish to make an issueover that. Probably Tully had done it absentmindedly. Then he rememberedhis uncle's warning to watch everything going on in the division.

  "Tully, you're in the wrong file," said Bob.

  Tully turned around quickly, his face flushing darkly.

  "No harm, I guess. I just wondered what you've been doing and how you'vebeen handling your file. I heard Jacobs complimenting you the other dayand thought I could get some good pointers by looking your stuff over."

  "That's okay, Tully. I'll show you sometime when Jacobs is here, but youknow the rule about the files. I'll have to ask you to close that one."

  "And suppose I don't?" snapped Tully.

  "Oh, you'll close it all right," said Bob. His voice was still calm andeven, but there was a note of warning that Tully dared not ignore.

  Bob closed the file on his desk and stood up, stretching his long,powerful arms. Tully didn't miss the significance of the motion for Bobhad a well founded reputation as a boxer.

  Tully turned back to the filing case and slammed the steel drawer shut.

  "There you are, Pollyanna," he retorted. "That file doesn't look so goodafter all."

  "Just so it suits Jacobs; that's all that concerns me," said Bob, sittingdown again.

  Tully picked up his topcoat to leave.

  "Well, anyway I don't envy you staying on here alone tonight. This placeis giving me the creeps."

  After Tully had departed, Bob was able to concentrate fully on his ownwork. A clock boomed out again, but he was too preoccupied to count thenumber of strokes. For all he knew it might have been ten o'clock, orperhaps even eleven.

  A sharp knock at the door disturbed Bob.

  "Who is it?" he demanded.

  "Guard. Just checking up. How long are you going to be here?"

  It was the first time in many nights of overtime work that a guard hadever checked up, but Bob decided that it might be a new rule placed ineffect without his knowledge.

  "Half an hour at least," he replied.

  Apparently satisfied, the guard moved on and Bob could hear his footstepsgrowing fainter as he bent to his task again.

  But he was not to work long uninterruptedly. The telephone buzzed andthere was obvious irritation in his voice when he answered. But itvanished when he recognized his uncle's voice.

  "I was a little worried," explained Merritt Hughes, "when I phoned yourroom and found you weren't in. Everything all right?"

  "Yes, except I've had too many interruptions," said Bob. Then he hastenedto explain. "I don't mean you though. Tully Ross was in and sat aroundfor nearly an hour without doing anything except making me nervous."

  "Did he hint at anything?" asked Bob's uncle.

  "Yes. The same thing you mentioned. Evidently Condon Adams has told himabout it. You know Tully wants a position in the bureau of investigation,too."

  "Sure, every youngster in the country would like it," replied MerrittHughes. "Better stop for tonight and run along home and get some sleep. Iwant you on the alert every hour of the day. You're in the office fromnow on."

  "I'll be through in less than half an hour," promised Bob. "Then I'll godirectly home."

  "It's a bad night and getting worse. Take a taxi and don't run the riskof catching cold."

  This Bob promised to do and with a sigh hung up the telephone receiverand bent once more to the task of finishing the filing.

  As the hours of the night advanced, the wind grew colder and Bob aroseand closed the window. The air in the room was now damp and it would havebeen easy to allow his mind to run riot for the building was strangelysilent. Noises from the street, far below, were smothered in the sound ofthe rain, driven against the windows.

  A slight creak startled Bob and he whirled toward the door. Even in thedim light which his desk light cast he could see the handle of the doormoving. Fascinated, he watched. The handle was moving slowly, as thoughevery effort was being made to guard against any possible noise. Bobremained motionless in his chair as though he had suddenly turned tostone.

 

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