Bob picked up the handful of data and scanned the typewritten words. Even before he read the printing on the page he knew that something was wrong for the paper was thicker than that upon which his report had been written.
But the real shock was when he read the first page. It was a recipe for making dill pickles.
“It’s a pickle recipe,” gasped Bob.
Tully nodded grimly.
“Look at the rest of them!”
Bob skimmed through the pages, bending down to examine each one closely. Instead of the confidential data the pages were mimeographed recipes and Bob and Tully stared at each other in amazement.
“My report’s been stolen!”
It was Tully speaking and he sounded like a stricken man. Then he grasped Bob’s shoulders.
“This isn’t a trick you’re playing on me?” he demanded.
“Don’t be silly,” said Bob firmly. “That isn’t my idea of a joke. We’ve got to get busy now.”