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. 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. 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. In spite of this, Tully had been made an agent in the bureau of investigation and there was every indication that the rivalry which had started when they were clerks in the War Department would continue in their new work. Bob was just dropping asleep when the telephone beside his bed rang sharply. He turned on the light and picked up the instrument, all thought of sleep now gone from his mind. Could it be his first assignment? “Hello? Hello?” said Bob anxiously.