Condon Adams, moving as rapidly as his short, thick legs would carry him, left the room and Tully, with a backward glance of mingled relief and unsatisfied curiosity, trailed after him.
Merritt Hughes, watching them depart, shook his head and Bob heard his uncle mutter, “What a precious pair.”
“What are we going to do now?” asked Bob.
“We’re going home and get some sleep. You’ve been through enough for one night. Jacobs, see that he is relieved of routine tomorrow. I want him with me when I question these men.”
“I’ll make the necessary arrangements,” promised the filing chief, who was still looking disconsolately at the mess of papers scattered over the floor. “Use Bob as long as you need him and I’ll fix up the reports here. Good luck and good night.”
“Good night,” replied the federal agent and Bob echoed the words. They strode down the hall together, entered the elevator, and when they reached the entrance of the building were fortunate enough to hail an owl cab which went cruising by.
The air was fresh, but the rain, coming down steadily, was driven by a sharp wind and the night was as raw as ever.
Chapter XII
STEPS IN THE HALL
★
Bob leaned back in the taxi. It was restful listening to the steady hum of the tires on the wet pavement. His uncle looked at him quizzically.
“Pretty much all in?” he asked.