He was back soon with the paper cup brimming full of water. Bob moistened his handkerchief in this and bathed Tully’s cheeks and forehead while Hamsa loosened his tie and collar, and massaged his wrists.

Just then the Pullman conductor came into the compartment.

“What’s doing here?” he asked.

Bob answered without looking up.

“I think my companion suffered a fainting attack. Have you any smelling salts?”

“I have some in my first aid kit up ahead,” replied the conductor, departing to obtain it.

He returned in less than a minute with the smelling salts and Bob gave Tully several deep sniffs from the pungent smelling bottle. The penetrating qualities of the salts seemed to reach Tully’s subconscious mind and draw away the curtain which had clouded his consciousness. He made an effort to rouse himself but Bob speaking in a low voice forced him back on the leather bench.

“Take it easy, Tully,” he advised. “You’ll feel stronger in a short time.”

Tully opened his eyes and stared at them. It was evident that he had no idea what had happened to him.

Bob, who had been somewhat concerned when he saw the sheets of Tully’s confidential report laying out in the open, now took time to look for them. They were still scattered on one of the leather benches and as far as Bob could determine they had not been disturbed. He reached out and with the sweep of one hand brushed them into a pile at one corner of the bench. Fortunately they had been turned face down, and Bob felt sure that there had been no opportunity for either Hamsa or the Pullman conductor to read the contents.

Tully attempted to sit up and Bob’s attention returned to his unfortunate traveling companion. Tully still appeared shaken but his eyes were clearer and once more there was a touch of color in his cheeks.

Tully signalled that he would like a drink of water and Hamsa hurried away to fill another paper cup from the tank in the vestibule. When he returned Tully took several deep draughts of the water and he appeared greatly refreshed.

“I don’t know what happened,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly. “My mind seems so heavy. I can’t think.”

“Better take it easy for a while,” advised Bob. “Here, stretch out on this couch. I’ll get the porter to bring you a blanket.”

Bob stepped out and called the porter who was in the other end of the car, and, thus far, unaware that anything unusual had taken place in the smoking compartment. At Bob’s instructions he brought a blanket and placed it over Tully. Then he brought in a pillow and the federal agent was made as comfortable as possible.

“Want me to make up a berth?” asked the porter, but Tully shook his head.

“Not now. I’ll be all right here. Just let me rest.”

Bob’s keen eyes roved around the smoking compartment. The papers which had been in Tully’s confidential envelope had been placed on the opposite couch, evidently by Hamsa or the Pullman conductor. Bob caught a quick glance from Tully and sensed that the other wanted the papers put away at once.

The young federal agent stepped over to the leather couch, scooped up the sheets of typewritten paper, and placed them in the envelope.

“Thanks,” said Tully, when Bob handed the package to him. He slipped the documents into an inner pocket of his coat, closed his eyes, and was soon in a deep sleep.

This might have been alarming had not Tully’s breathing been deep and natural and the color in his cheeks more normal.

“I think he’s coming around all right,” said Hamsa, who had remained in the smoking compartment. “Looks to me like it might have been an attack of acute indigestion.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Bob, but for his own satisfaction he would have preferred to have a doctor examine Tully. He stepped outside into the corridor to speak to the Pullman conductor.

“Do you know if there is a doctor on the train?” he asked.

“I don’t believe so. We’re running light today but I’ll find out; your friend any worse?”

“No. He’s better, but I’d like to find out just what happened to him.”

“I can wire ahead and have an ambulance meet us at the next division point,” suggested the conductor.

“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” replied Bob. “We’re anxious to get to Jacksonville on this train. However, I wish you would ascertain if there is a doctor aboard.”

As the trainman hurried away, Bob stepped back into the smoking compartment. There was something definitely puzzling and disturbing about the sudden illness which had overtaken Tully, for the latter was usually in the best of health.

Bob thought back over the days of their association in the archives division of the War Department, trying to remember if Tully had ever been the subject of sudden fainting spells. As far as he could recall, nothing like this had occurred before, which did not make his mind rest any easier.

Hamsa wandered out of the smoking compartment and Bob and Tully were alone. Half an hour slipped by and Tully remained in the deep sleep.

The train had stopped once, a long halt for coal and water, and it was after it resumed motion that the Pullman conductor returned to the compartment.

“I’ve been all over the train, even into the day coaches ahead, and there isn’t even a veterinarian aboard. Sure you don’t want us to wire for an ambulance to meet you? We’ll be in at the next division point in an hour and a half.”

“I’ll let you know definitely a little later. If he doesn’t rouse from this sleep, it may be necessary to do just that.”

“Anything more I can do?” asked the conductor, but Bob shook his head.

“I’ll stay here and watch him. If I need any help, I’ll signal for the porter.”

The curtains at the doorway swished down behind the departing figure of the conductor, leaving Bob and Tully alone once more.

The afternoon was waning as the train sped southward, the steady clicking of the trucks underneath indicating that the Limited was doing at least a mile a minute. The roadbed was smooth and the high speed did not make the car ride uncomfortably.

While Tully was asleep, Bob studied his companion’s face. Tully’s features were really remarkably strong and if he made an effort to look pleasant he would have been a handsome young man. But his lips were inclined to a perpetual downward curve that made it appear that a steady scowl was on his face.

Bob would have enjoyed liking Tully, for there were many qualities in the other that were outstanding. For instance, Tully was sturdy and he had the power to drive steadily toward a goal once he set his ambition to that end. It was too bad that he let personal feelings creep into his work and sway his better judgment, such as challenging Bob to beat him to a solution of the jewel smuggling case.

Bob was a better than average judge of character and he knew that Tully would worry so much about what he was doing that Tully’s own keen mind would be somewhat dulled on the case. For that reason Bob had not hesitated to take up the challenge.

The Limited plunged into a short but heavy rain storm and drops of water streamed down the windows. It was not an especially auspicious beginning to their manhunt.

Tully moved restlessly and Bob thought for a time that his companion was about to wake up, but Tully’s breathing deepened once more and his eyes remained closed.

Joe Hamsa stuck his head into the compartment.

“Any change?” he asked, and Bob