Adams dropped his bag and whirled to Bob.
“What’s that?” he demanded, as though unable to believe the words.
“My uncle disappeared this evening and everything points to a kidnaping by this gang of smugglers we’re after,” explained Bob.
Condon Adams threw back his head and laughed, but it was a grim sort of laugh that sent chills down Bob’s neck.
“Well that’s good,” snorted Adams. “Merritt Hughes, ace federal manhunter, kidnaped. I suppose I’ll have to hunt for him now instead of the kidnapers.”
“I guess that’s about the size of things,” replied Bob slowly. “I’ve been in touch with Washington. I’m to go on south to Atalissa on my original assignment and you are to take up the hunt here for him. I’ve already got the Jacksonville police on the case. When Tully comes out of the hospital, he is to continue to Nira as first ordered.”
“Let’s get some coffee,” said Condon Adams as they walked past the entrance of the station restaurant.
The older federal agent slid his traveling bag into a corner and dropped down into a chair.
“What a mess to get into,” he said, half to himself and half to Bob. Then he looked up.
“Your uncle means quite a lot to you?”