“Looks like we’re in for it. Better get off your coat, Bob, and we’ll start on the first bale.”
“You mean you want to open up all those bales?” demanded the building superintendent.
“That’s right,” nodded the intelligence officer. “We not only want to, but we’re going to do it. Get some snippers and cut through the wires on this bale.” He indicated the huge stack of paper nearest him.
The superintendent snapped on additional lights and grudgingly cut the wires on the first bale while Bob took off his coat.
“Save every envelope with a Maryland postmark on it,” he said.
It looked like an endless task, but Bob and the lieutenant, squatting on their heels, started through the pile of paper.
The building superintendent, after watching them for several minutes, joined in the hunt.
At the end of half an hour they had found four letters with Maryland postmarks on them, but none of them addressed to Arthur Jacobs.
“We’ve got to have more help,” decided the intelligence officer when an hour had slipped away and they had gone through only one bale. He went to a telephone and called the Department of Justice, with the result that within half an hour six other agents were on the job, delving through the growing pile of papers.
By noon they had examined every scrap of paper from five bales and their arms and backs were aching sharply.