Condon Adams grunted and shouldered his way ahead of them and into the elevator.
They were silent as they rode up to the top floor and strode down the corridor to the office where Tully Ross was waiting for them.
Tully’s dark, rather handsome face, was marked by frowns as he saw Bob enter behind Merritt Hughes.
“Now what’s been going on here?” demanded Condon Adams as he surveyed the room with cool, calculating eyes. Suddenly he saw the radio file and he swung to face Merritt Hughes.
“This case getting hot?” He shot the question out in short, chopped-off words.
Bob’s uncle nodded.
“Looks like it.”
“Fine one you are not to let me know,” said Adams bitterly.
“I don’t recall that you’ve ever tipped me off to any breaks in any case we’ve worked on before,” said Merritt Hughes coolly. “When you get in that habit I’ll try to learn your telephone number.”
Condon Adams snorted.