“Yes, this is Bob Houston speaking,” he said.
The words which came over the wire caught and held his attention.
“Yes, I understand. Of course, come right over. I’ll be dressed and ready to go over the entire affair.”
Bob hung up the receiver, reached the bathroom in one long jump, and in another had the shower on and was under it.
After a brisk shower, he rubbed his body down thoroughly, feeling ready for what he knew was to be a busy day. The caller was Lieutenant Frederick Gibbons of the intelligence unit of the War Department, who had been assigned to help on the case. He had promised Bob information of vital importance and almost before Bob had finished dressing there was a knock.
When Bob opened the door a trim, soldierly figure was standing in the hall.
“Lieutenant Gibbons?” asked Bob.
“Right. I take it you’re Bob Houston?”
Bob nodded.
“How about breakfast?” asked the intelligence officer.