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Lost Leaf Publications
Agent Nine and the Jewel Mystery (Illustrated)
Agent Nine and the Jewel Mystery (Illustrated)
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Bob Houston, the youngest agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, stepped out of the Department of Justice Building and turned toward home, his heart beating faster than it had in months. It hardly seemed real but he was now a full-fledged agent in the greatest man hunting division in the Federal Government.
Bob paused a moment at the curb. Another man who had emerged from the justice building joined him. It was his uncle, Merritt Hughes, one of the most famous detectives in the department. He put his arm around Bob’s shoulders and shook him in a rough but friendly embrace.
“Well, Bob, how does it feel to be a real federal agent?” he asked.
[16]
It was a moment before Bob replied, and when he finally spoke the words came slowly.
“I hardly know,” he confessed, “as yet it doesn’t seem real, but there is one thing I do know—I’m going to work night and day to make a success of this new job.”
“Don’t worry about making a success,” advised his uncle. “You’ve got the stuff to make good or you wouldn’t have been taken into the department.”
“When do you think I’ll get my first assignment on a new case?” asked Bob.
“That’s hard to say,” replied the famous detective, “but if I were you I’d go home now and get a good night’s sleep. In this kind of a game you’d better sleep when you can.”
“Then I’m headed for home now,” said Bob. “Good night, and thanks for all you’ve done for me.”
With that the young federal agent strode off down the avenue, his lungs drinking in great gulps of the cool air of the fall night.
[17]
Merritt Hughes stood on the curb of the justice building watching his nephew until Bob turned the corner a block away. Anyone noticing the federal agent would have seen a slight smile of pleasure on his lips and he might have guessed that Merritt Hughes was greatly pleased by the events which had happened in the preceding hours.
As a matter of fact, Bob Houston, a plain clerk in the archives division of the War Department, temporarily a provisional federal agent, had been the key figure in preventing the theft of some of Uncle Sam’s most valuable radio secrets.
Through Bob’s efforts a daring plot had been thwarted and the men responsible taken into custody. As a reward for this brilliant work, Bob had been made a full-fledged agent of the famous bureau of investigation of the Department of Justice.
There were many thoughts in Bob’s mind as he strode toward home that night. Only that afternoon he had led the raid on the east shore of Maryland which had resulted in the apprehension of the gang which had been attempting to steal the radio secrets. Then, after the return to Washington, had come eventful hours.
[18]
Bob would never forget the scene in the office of Waldo Edgar, chief of the bureau of investigation, when Mr. Edgar had informed Bob that he was a regular federal agent and had presented his credentials to him.
Just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming, Bob pulled a small leather wallet from an inside coat pocket and paused under a street light to look at its contents. There was no mistake. There in the wallet was a small gold badge which denoted his office and the finely engraved card which marked his identification. Bob replaced the wallet with a particular glow of satisfaction and continued toward home.
The night air was raw and Bob increased his pace as he neared the building where he made his home. He turned in at the entrance and made his way up to the third floor where he had a comfortable room in a rear apartment.
[19]
Bob unlocked the door and snapped on the light. It was a typical man’s room with a large chiffonier and a deep clothes closet in one wall. There was a reading light near the head of the bed and beside this a large easy chair with a book rack. A number of books and magazines were scattered on this rack, and usually Bob sat down to read for a time before going to bed; but tonight he was too tired to read and he undressed rapidly.
Tired though he was, sleep was slow in coming to him as his mind went over the events of recent hours. Bob wondered just what Tully Ross was thinking and doing, for Tully had been his rival in seeking a solution to the mystery of the radio secrets.
Tully, also a clerk in the archives division of the War Department, had an uncle, Condon Adams, who, like Merritt Hughes, was a federal agent. Both Tully and his uncle had worked on the radio case, but by dint of Bob’s good fortune and sharp detective work Bob and his uncle had solved the case before Tully and his uncle could find the solution.
Bob paused a moment at the curb. Another man who had emerged from the justice building joined him. It was his uncle, Merritt Hughes, one of the most famous detectives in the department. He put his arm around Bob’s shoulders and shook him in a rough but friendly embrace.
“Well, Bob, how does it feel to be a real federal agent?” he asked.
[16]
It was a moment before Bob replied, and when he finally spoke the words came slowly.
“I hardly know,” he confessed, “as yet it doesn’t seem real, but there is one thing I do know—I’m going to work night and day to make a success of this new job.”
“Don’t worry about making a success,” advised his uncle. “You’ve got the stuff to make good or you wouldn’t have been taken into the department.”
“When do you think I’ll get my first assignment on a new case?” asked Bob.
“That’s hard to say,” replied the famous detective, “but if I were you I’d go home now and get a good night’s sleep. In this kind of a game you’d better sleep when you can.”
“Then I’m headed for home now,” said Bob. “Good night, and thanks for all you’ve done for me.”
With that the young federal agent strode off down the avenue, his lungs drinking in great gulps of the cool air of the fall night.
[17]
Merritt Hughes stood on the curb of the justice building watching his nephew until Bob turned the corner a block away. Anyone noticing the federal agent would have seen a slight smile of pleasure on his lips and he might have guessed that Merritt Hughes was greatly pleased by the events which had happened in the preceding hours.
As a matter of fact, Bob Houston, a plain clerk in the archives division of the War Department, temporarily a provisional federal agent, had been the key figure in preventing the theft of some of Uncle Sam’s most valuable radio secrets.
Through Bob’s efforts a daring plot had been thwarted and the men responsible taken into custody. As a reward for this brilliant work, Bob had been made a full-fledged agent of the famous bureau of investigation of the Department of Justice.
There were many thoughts in Bob’s mind as he strode toward home that night. Only that afternoon he had led the raid on the east shore of Maryland which had resulted in the apprehension of the gang which had been attempting to steal the radio secrets. Then, after the return to Washington, had come eventful hours.
[18]
Bob would never forget the scene in the office of Waldo Edgar, chief of the bureau of investigation, when Mr. Edgar had informed Bob that he was a regular federal agent and had presented his credentials to him.
Just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming, Bob pulled a small leather wallet from an inside coat pocket and paused under a street light to look at its contents. There was no mistake. There in the wallet was a small gold badge which denoted his office and the finely engraved card which marked his identification. Bob replaced the wallet with a particular glow of satisfaction and continued toward home.
The night air was raw and Bob increased his pace as he neared the building where he made his home. He turned in at the entrance and made his way up to the third floor where he had a comfortable room in a rear apartment.
[19]
Bob unlocked the door and snapped on the light. It was a typical man’s room with a large chiffonier and a deep clothes closet in one wall. There was a reading light near the head of the bed and beside this a large easy chair with a book rack. A number of books and magazines were scattered on this rack, and usually Bob sat down to read for a time before going to bed; but tonight he was too tired to read and he undressed rapidly.
Tired though he was, sleep was slow in coming to him as his mind went over the events of recent hours. Bob wondered just what Tully Ross was thinking and doing, for Tully had been his rival in seeking a solution to the mystery of the radio secrets.
Tully, also a clerk in the archives division of the War Department, had an uncle, Condon Adams, who, like Merritt Hughes, was a federal agent. Both Tully and his uncle had worked on the radio case, but by dint of Bob’s good fortune and sharp detective work Bob and his uncle had solved the case before Tully and his uncle could find the solution.
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