But there was no reply over the wire and Bob clicked the receiver hook several times, finally deciding that the call must have been the wrong number. When Bob finally did get to sleep he slept with the heaviness of complete nervous and physical exhaustion. It was mid-forenoon and the sun was streaming in his windows when he finally awakened. There had been no instructions to him on when to report for his new work and he took a shower and dressed leisurely. Bob stepped out of the apartment building and took a deep breath of the crisp air of the mid-fall morning. Then he walked down the street to a small shop where he usually had his breakfast. After ordering his breakfast he picked up a morning paper on his table and his eyes instantly focused on the headlines in the center of the front page: “FEDERAL AGENTS CAPTURE GANG OF RADIO THIEVES” Bob read the story with avid attention. Here in detail was related on the front page of one of the nation’s great newspapers the complete story of the part he had played in rounding up the gang of radio thieves. Bob looked up from the paper. His face felt flushed and he knew he appeared highly self-conscious, but no one seemed to be noticing him and he resumed his reading of the story. It was evident that the reporter who had written the story must have obtained his information from a federal agent, but Bob knew that there was a rule in the department that all information of this type must come from the head of the department. He was quite sure that Waldo Edgar had not given out the story. As Bob read further the conviction grew that Tully Ross must have supplied the facts for the newspaper story, for a great deal of credit had been given to Tully for things which he had not done. Bob dropped the paper in disgust. That was just like Tully to attempt to claim credit for something which someone else had done. Bob finished his breakfast, paid his bill and started walking toward the Department of Justice Building. He had gone a little more than a block when a car pulled along the curb and the driver stuck his head out the window. “Want a lift, Bob?” asked a pleasant voice and Bob turned to face Lieutenant Gibbons, War Department intelligence officer, who had helped him in the solution of the radio mystery. Bob climbed into the coupé and Lieutenant Gibbons sent the car shooting down the avenue, dodging in and out of the heavy mid-forenoon stream of traffic. “Quite a story in the morning papers,” smiled the lieutenant. Bob nodded. “Looks like Tully Ross has been doing a little personal press agenting,” he said. “Personally, I’m not very strong for that sort of thing.” “Neither am I,” said the lieutenant, “but some people seem to live on a diet of publicity and I guess Tully is one of that kind.” The lieutenant wheeled his coupé up in front of the Department of Justice Building and Bob stepped out. “Thanks a lot for the lift,” he said.