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.”