Bob nodded. “Well, I’m willing to admit that I’m more than a little tired and my muscles ache a good bit from that tussle in the dark back in the office. I thought for a minute that fellow was going to get away from me. It’s a good thing you put in an appearance when you did.”
“I knew speed was essential and I corralled a few of the local police to help me out,” chuckled Merritt Hughes. “Still think you’d like to be a real federal agent?”
“And how!” said Bob sincerely. “It’s got the thrilling kind of a life I’d like to follow.”
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking it is all thrills and fun. There are months upon months when the cases are the merest of routines and the work is real drudgery. But every so often something bobs up that does add a zest to living. Where do you suppose that radio document went?”
“I wish I knew. Jacobs will worry himself sick until it is recovered. I knew something was in the air, but none of us thought anything important had been sent over.”
“Well, someone knew it and that someone must have had inside knowledge. There was no guess work in rifling those files.”
“No, but someone got into the wrong office the first time,” said Bob, recalling the ransacking of the other office on the same corridor. He felt in his pocket for the thin steel wedges which had been used in the doors. Snapping on the dome light in the taxi, he held them in the palm of his hand.
“These wedges were used in an attempt to lock the doors and keep me in,” he explained. “I forgot all about them until just now. What do you make of them?”
His uncle looked at them sharply, but refused to touch them. Pulling out a clean handkerchief, he had Bob drop the wedges into the cloth, covered them carefully and placed them in an inside pocket.
“I’ll turn them over to the laboratory. They may be able to find some fingerprints if they haven’t been handled by too many people.”