Bob sat down to wait for the arrival of the train and as the minutes slipped away he had the feeling that he was under observation. The hair along the back of his neck tingled and he wanted to turn around and stare at those back of him. Instead, he moved once or twice as though restless and finally stood up, stretched, and strolled over to the magazine stand, where he could turn around and see the entire concourse.
Bob picked up a magazine and skimmed through the pages with fingers that turned the sheets mechanically while his keen eyes roved over the room. Finally he came back to a lightly built man who had been leaning against a radiator somewhat to the right and back of the bench on which he had been seated.
The man was dressed in a poorly fitted dark suit, wore a cap, and moved restlessly. He was the only one in the scattered gathering of people in the station whom Bob would suspect of being there to watch him.
Just then the lights flashed over an incoming train board and Bob turned and walked toward the train gates. Passengers started coming through the gate and among the first was the bulky form of Condon Adams. Bob called to him and Adams turned aside.
“How’s Tully?” asked Bob, who was really concerned over the condition of the young federal agent.
Condon Adams’ face lighted up, for he was genuinely fond of his nephew and Bob’s inquiry touched a soft spot.
“Getting along fine,” he said. “Oh, he’s pretty sore and all that, but he’ll be able to continue on his assignment in two or three more days.”
“It was a tough break,” said Bob and Adams nodded.
“What’s been going on?” he asked.
“Plenty,” replied Bob. “My uncle was kidnaped earlier this evening.”