Bob wondered just why Mr. Hamsa, who appeared perfectly capable of taking care of himself, did not care to travel alone. He was not in doubt long for Hamsa suddenly developed a voluble streak.
“Diamonds are my specialty,” he said, “and I’ve been held up once or twice. Believe me, there’s no fun in that.”
Mr. Hamsa did not look particularly like the type of man who would submit to a holdup peacefully, and there was something about him that aroused suspicions in Bob’s mind.
The young federal agent glanced across the compartment to where Tully was seated and he was surprised to note that the papers in the confidential report on the smuggling ring were scattered on the seat beside Tully.
What was even more astounding was the pallor of Tully’s face, and the glassy stare in his eyes.
“Tully,” cried Bob, “what’s the matter?”
But there was no response from Tully except a slight twitching of his lips which indicated that he might be trying to answer.
“Tully,” repeated Bob, “what’s the matter?”
The sharp questions voiced by the young federal agent caused Hamsa also to turn and stare at Tully.
Bob was less than six feet away from Tully, yet the other failed to answer his questions or to give any sign of recognition. He sat there like a man under a hypnotic spell.