encounter in Florida and he wanted to be prepared for every possible emergency.

The packing had taken longer than Bob had expected and when he looked at his watch he realized that there was little time to lose if he expected to reach the justice department building for his one o’clock appointment. Bob jammed his shaving outfit in on top of his clothes and closed the bag. It fairly bulged with the articles he had packed away and the big case was both clumsy and heavy to carry.

Bob looked around his room as he paused at the door. It might be weeks before he would return and he would miss the orderly pleasantness of the room with his comfortable chair and his excellent books.

Then he closed and locked the door and walked down the hallway as rapidly as he could with his heavy bag. He summoned a taxi and started for the Department of Justice Building where detailed instructions were awaiting him.

The ride down town took less than ten minutes and Bob reached the building at five minutes to one, just in time to see Tully Ross precede him through the main entrance.

Bob paid his taxi fare and then left his heavy bag at the information desk on the main floor while he was whirled upward in an elevator. The same clerk who had greeted him that morning was on duty in the outer office and Tully, seated on a bench, was opening a large Manila envelope.

“Your instructions, train tickets, expense money and data on the case are all in this envelope,” said the clerk, handing a similar container to Bob. “Your train leaves at 1:30 so I suggest that you get to the station at once and then go into the details of this case after you are on your way south.”

“Thanks a lot,” nodded Bob. “I’m on my way.”

“Good luck,” said the clerk, who looked enviously after Bob, for after all there were not very many thrills in clerical work.

Chapter IV
TULLY’S CHALLENGE
★

Tully Ross followed Bob into the elevator and they dropped toward the first floor.

“I guess we’re taking the same train as far as Jacksonville,” said Tully. “What a pleasure that’s going to be!”

Tully’s last words were sneering and vindictive, and a little of Bob’s pent-up resentment burst out. Fortunately no one else was in the elevator at the time.

“You’d better take inventory of yourself, Tully,” advised Bob, “or you’re going to run head-on into trouble. I haven’t got it in for you and you can take full credit for anything that you do. Don’t be so blamed suspicious of everything. You do your work and I’ll do mine. The main thing is going to be to solve this case and I don’t care who does it just as long as we are successful. If you’d only warm up a little we could go over this case on the way south this afternoon and we might have some ideas that we could both benefit by.”

Tully looked suspicious.

“What are you getting at?” he asked.

They were on the main floor again and passengers bound for the upper floors swept into the elevator.

“We’ll take a taxi together to the station and I’ll tell you on the way there,” said Bob.

Tully had two smaller bags while Bob had only the large gladstone and they loaded the bags and themselves into a taxi and started for the union station.

“I’m just trying to get at this,” said Bob. “Both of us have chances for brilliant futures in this service if we don’t let personal rivalry warp our better judgment. That was a shabby trick of yours in giving that story to the newspapers and I rather think you hoped that I would be blamed.”

Tully was silent and Bob went on.

“I’m willing to let that pass and some other things that have happened if you feel that you’re willing to work along with me on this case. The old saying that two heads are better than one is certainly true in this kind of work and we can both benefit by it. What do you say?”

Bob’s clear, blue eyes bored deep into Tully’s brown ones and he held out his hand.

Tully held Bob’s gaze for a moment and then his eyes shifted uneasily. He made no motion to take Bob’s proffered hand.

“Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, I’m glad that we have had a definite understanding,” said Bob.

“I guess that’s the way it’s got to be,” said Tully slowly. “I don’t like you, Bob, and there’s no use in making any bones about it. I’m going to solve this case even if I have to step all over you in doing it.”

“Well, Tully, you just run along and do your best; but I’m serving fair warning on you right now that if you try to step on any of my toes, you’ll wish you hadn’t. There’s only one way to play this game and that’s to play it fair and square. I’m going to play it that way and I’m going to win and nothing that you can do will stop me. If it is humanly possible that case will be solved within the next few weeks.”

Tully looked squarely at Bob.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked.

“Call it anything you like.”

“Then I say that you won’t solve it in two months if you solve it at all.”

“Two months it is,” retorted Bob, “and by that I mean that every angle of this case will be cleaned up and either all of the men connected with it in federal custody or beyond our reach and you can put that down in writing if you want to.”

“I won’t do that,” sneered Tully, “for it might be too embarrassing to have to have it recalled when you fail.”

“I’m not going to fail,” said Bob firmly, and although Tully wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, he had a premonition that Bob was right—that he would not fail.

Chapter V
ON THE SOUTHERN LIMITED
★

The taxi pulled up in front of the union station and Bob and Tully, spurning the offers of red caps, carried their luggage into the huge structure.

The great terminal was alive with activity and through the loud speaker system the departures of half a dozen famous trains were being announced.

Bob’s Gladstone was too heavy to carry very far without shifting it from hand to hand. When he reached the train shed he put the bag down beside him and opened the envelope in which his tickets had been placed. His Pullman reservation called for lower five in car 43 on train number 7, the Southern Limited. Tully paused beside Bob.

“Are you in car 43?” he asked.

“Lower five,” said Bob.

“Humph,” grunted Tully. “What luck I have. There must have been some mistake. I’m in upper five.”

“No, I don’t think there was any mistake,” grinned Bob as he visualized how Tully, who was inclined to stoutness, would look scrambling in and out of upper five that night. “Perhaps the clerk who made out these tickets thought you needed a little exercise.”

Picking up their bags they walked to the nearest train gate where the ticket inspector checked their tickets and waved them toward the Southern Limited, which was standing on track number three.

Car 43, in which they were to make their journey southward, was near the center of the train and by the time Bob and Tully were comfortably seated in the car, the porters were making their final calls of “’bo-o-oard.” The Southern Limited started slowly but easily picked up speed as the trucks clicked over the joints.