Bob searched both sides of the Gladstone with a heart that grew heavier with apprehension as each second passed. There was no question now—his own confidential papers had been stolen. His hands went to the inner coat pocket where he had tucked the telegram warning them against Hamsa. When he drew them out his hands were empty. Even that message had disappeared and Bob knew then, without question, that Hamsa was somewhere on the train. With the telegram from Washington in his possession and the knowledge that the federal agents were closing in on him, Hamsa would be doubly dangerous and Bob was unarmed. Chapter XII A NEW MYSTERY ★ Bob sat in the berth for a time, thinking what to do next. He was certain that Hamsa was on the train and he knew that the other was capably armed, for he had Bob’s own revolver and there was no question but that he would use the weapon if his hand was forced too far. Bob got up and walked back to lower five where Tully was in a deep sleep. His traveling companion’s bag was in the rack above his berth and Bob reached in and pulled it out into the aisle, letting the heavy curtains fall back into place. He went through the bag methodically, for Tully’s gun should have been there. Bob searched every article in the bag twice, but the hunt was fruitless. There was no weapon there. Hamsa had done a thorough job of disarming the federal agents. Bob replaced Tully’s bag and then returned to the observation car where the flagman was waiting for him. He spread his empty hands in an expressive gesture. “Some one’s been through my bag and my gun’s gone,” said Bob. “Whoever it was also went through the other agent’s bag for he’s been disarmed.” The flagman’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not so keen about going on with this search unless we’re armed,” he declared. “Any guns of any kind on the train?” “The baggage man up ahead has one, but I don’t suppose he would loan it to anyone.” “There’s no harm in trying,” decided Bob, and he started forward through the train once more. The conductor was in the last coach forward and Bob quickly explained what had happened. The trainman went ahead and tapped on the door of the baggage car. It was opened cautiously and the baggage man stuck his head out. “What do you want?” he demanded gruffly. “Let us in,” cried the conductor and they stepped into the baggage car as a curtain of rain swept down off the roof of the train. Bob displayed his badge and then told what he needed. “I can’t let you have my service gun,” replied the baggage man, “but I’ve got a .22 target pistol I always carry along in my bag. You can have that if it will do you any good.” “It’s pretty light. But it will be better than nothing,” decided Bob as the baggage man obtained the weapon and handed it to him.