“That may be, but I’m convinced that Hamsa is still aboard this train and the vestibule steps are the last place I can think of,” retorted Bob. Four more traps were opened without success and they walked through another Pullman. Finally they came to car 43, where Tully was sleeping soundly. Their search at one end of the car was without result and they walked down to lower five. One curtain in the berth seemed to be caught and pulled back inward. It was this which attracted Bob’s attention and made him pause. He leaned over to adjust the curtain and just then the train lurched sharply and he was thrown into the berth. Bob attempted to brace himself and keep from falling on the sleeping Tully, but his efforts were without avail and he dropped rather heavily into the berth. Bob expected Tully to cry out, but there was no answer from the other young federal agent and Bob, struggling to his feet, parted the curtains and with the conductor peering over his shoulder, looked in. The bedding had been thrown carelessly to the back of the berth and Tully was missing! Chapter XIII GOING ON ★ Bob turned and stared at the conductor with unbelieving eyes. “He’s gone!” said Bob mechanically. But it couldn’t be possible for only a few minutes before he had looked in at Tully when he had examined the contents of his bag in the search for a weapon. Tully had been sleeping deeply but peacefully then. “Maybe he walked up ahead to get a drink,” suggested the conductor. But there was little actual hope in his voice that this had happened. “Get ahead and see if he’s there,” ordered Bob and the conductor hurried away. Bob threw back the curtains in the berth and looked for some evidence of a struggle for he was convinced in his own mind that Tully had never left the berth of his own free will. For one thing Tully had been too ill to get up and do any walking on the train. The conductor returned promptly. There was no sign of Tully in the head end of the Pullman. Bob rummaged through the sheets and blankets on the bed and his hands suddenly came on something firm. He drew the object out of the bedding and gazed at it under the rays of the berth light which he had turned on. It was a leather covered blackjack. “This spells trouble in capital letters,” said Bob as he drew out a clean handkerchief and turned the blackjack over. “Some one slugged Tully and then carried him out of his berth. This train is haunted.” “I’m beginning to believe so myself,” agreed the conductor. “Who could have carried him away?” “There’s only one answer to that—Hamsa,” asserted Bob. “What I want to know is what happened to Tully?”