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

by Graham M. Dean

The hours were rather long, the work was routine and his companions, though pleasant, were satisfied with their own careers. They were not looking ahead and dreaming of the day when they might wear one of the little badges which identified a Department of Justice agent.

Then Bob realized that he must stop his day dreaming. Or was it day dreaming after all? His uncle had said that there was now a possibility that he might join the department. But this was no time to ponder about that. He could think of his future when he returned to his room.

Bob went to a filing case which was along the inside wall of the room and extracted a folder. Taking it back to his desk he started making entries of the papers which were on his desk. He worked slowly but thoroughly, and his handwriting was clear and definite.

Others might be faster than Bob in the filing work in the division, but there were none more accurate and when his work was done the chief of the division always knew that the task was well cared for.

Bob worked for more than an hour, stopping only once or twice to straighten up in his chair, for it was tiring work going back to the desk after a full day of the same type of work.

When the file was complete, he returned it to the case along the wall and sorted the papers which remained on his desk. They belonged in four different files and he drew these from the cases and placed them in a row atop his desk.

The air in the room seemed stuffy and Bob walked to one of the windows and opened it several inches—just enough to let in fresh air, yet not far enough for the sharp wind to blow rain into the room. Far below him a car horn shrieked as an unwary pedestrian tried to beat a stop light.

Bob went back to his desk. Another hour and his work would be done. He picked up his pen and resumed the task.

Bob later recalled that he had heard a clock boom out the hour of nine and it must have been nearly half an hour later when the door which led to the corridor opened quietly and a man stepped inside.

The young clerk, at his desk, was so intent upon his work that he did not sense there was a newcomer in the room until the visitor was almost behind him.