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

by Graham M. Dean

  Chapter XXX ON THE EAST SHORE *

  The air that fall afternoon was clear and the entire panorama of the cityof Washington spread out below them. But Bob's thoughts were not on thebeauties of the afternoon or of the flight. His mind was centered farahead on the east shore village of Rubio and what he might learn there.

  The cabin was well insulated, so Bob and Lieutenant Gibbons couldconverse in comparative ease.

  "What did Edgar have to say?" asked the intelligence officer.

  "He's afraid the gang is trying to get the secret radio information outof the country by using an unlicensed station which has just startedbroadcasting from somewhere along the east shore of Maryland."

  Lieutenant Gibbons whistled.

  "What's he doing about it?"

  "Federal agents are being sent from Baltimore by motor and another planeis to follow us within a few minutes. The Department of Commerce believesthe station is near Rubio and they're trying to gum up the broadcast asmuch as possible. Oh, it all clicks beautifully. My uncle was taken downthe river in a fast boat and landed somewhere near Rubio. He had thepaper they desired and now they are trying to send the informationsomeplace in Europe by using this powerful but unlicensed radio."

  "Sounds logical," agreed the lieutenant. "Looks like we're going to havesome busy hours ahead of us. Made any plans yet?"

  Bob shook his head.

  "I haven't thought any beyond getting to Rubio as fast as we can andtrying to learn there whether a boat like the one which slipped out ofthe tidal basin last night has been sighted there."

  "Think we can swing it alone or are you going to wait for the otheragents to catch up with us?"

  There was no hesitation in Bob's reply.

  "We're going on as rapidly as we can. Every minute counts now. We may runstraight into a whole kettle of trouble, but we'll have to handle it insome fashion."

  They lapsed into silence as the sturdy amphibian sped out over ChesapeakeBay. Fishing boats could be seen below and several freighters, bound forBaltimore, churned up a white wake in the blue of the bay. It was indeeda calm and peaceful afternoon but Bob's mind was anything but peaceful orcalm.

  Then they were over Maryland and a few minutes later the uneven line ofthe east shore was visible.

  The pilot, in his cockpit up ahead, was scanning the ground intently. Theship veered a little to the right and they circled over a sprawlingvillage before which a broad, sandy beach broke the gentle swell of theAtlantic. Half a mile from the village proper was a sheltered cove with ascore of small fishing wharfs. It was toward this that the pilot of theamphibian nosed his craft.

  As they swung over the cove Bob could see the upturned faces of fishermenas they stared at the unexpected visitor. Bob looked at the boats in thecove with extreme care, but none of them were unusual and none appearedcapable of great speed.

  The amphibian smacked the water and spray flew out on both sides as theyslowed down and taxied in toward the shore. The pilot cut the engine whenthey were near a low wharf and dropped a light anchor.

  A friendly fisherman put out in a dory and pulled alongside the plane.

  "Any trouble?" he asked.

  "Not yet," replied Lieutenant Gibbons, "but we're looking for a blackspeed boat. It's been described as about 30 feet long and capable of 40miles an hour. It's a cabin boat with an antennae above the cabin. Everseen anything like it around here?"

  Bob, watching the fisherman closely, thought he detected a slightnarrowing of the other's eyes, but he knew that the men of the east shorewere by nature extremely cautious.

  "Don't know as I've seen just that boat," replied the fisherman, "butthere's a good many crafts slip around the coves here."

  "This boat would have come in this morning."

  "Better climb in. We'll ask some of the other boys."

  Bob and the intelligence officer seated themselves in the dory and werequickly put ashore, where a little group gathered about them.

  The man who had brought them ashore acted as spokesman.

  "These fellows are looking for a speedboat that might have come aroundhere this morning. Anybody seen anything of such a craft?"

  There was no immediate reply and Bob could see doubt as to the wisdom ofanswering the question in the eyes of a number of the men. It was thenthat he decided to tell them the importance of their visit.

  He drew out his billfold and handed the nearest man his identificationcard.

  "We're federal officers," he explained, "and we're looking for a man whowas kidnaped last night in Washington in a speedboat and broughtsomewhere near Rubio. If you can give us any information it may save aman's life."

  The entire attitude of the group changed and a young man who had been inthe background stepped forward.

  "I saw such a boat just about mid-forenoon," he said. "It was coming upfrom the south, and coming fast, maybe forty an hour, but I didn't see itput in any place."

  A radio in one of the fishing shacks screeched as though in agony and theowner of the set hurried away to tune it down.

  "Somebody ought to break that thing up; it's been doing that allafternoon," grunted another fisherman.

  "Did it work all right before?" asked Bob.

  "Sure. But this afternoon something went wrong and we can't getanything."

  Bob knew then that the end of the trail was nearing.

  "Tell me this: Are there any old estates near here which have beenrecently occupied?"

  The owner of the radio, who had shut it off, rejoined the group in timeto hear Bob's question, and it was he who replied.

  "There's the old Haskins place about five miles up the shore," he said."Someone's been around there for the last month or so. I went up one dayto try and sell some provisions, but they ordered me off."

  "Could this speedboat have been bound for the Haskins place?" asked Bob,aiming his question at the young fisherman who had told him about theboat.

  "Sure, it was going up the shore. But I've never seen that boat aroundhere before."

  Bob turned to Lieutenant Gibbons.

  "Looks to me like the Haskins place is our goal. Let's reconnoiter it inthe plane."

  "The sooner the better," agreed the intelligence officer.

  Bob swung back to the fishermen.

  "Federal agents are coming in here from Baltimore by car and fromWashington by plane. If they arrive before we return, direct them to theHaskins place."