Bob thanked the clerk for the information, meager though it was. It would do no harm to go for a stroll and he stepped out into the street. Like his uncle had done, he turned right on a street which led down to the water front. He soon found himself in a poorer part of the city. Street lights were far apart and their globes dirty. Houses and shops seemed to be hiding and the men who went along the street did not look up. Two policemen strolled by and Bob whistled for he knew what it meant when officers made their beat in pairs. He doubted whether his uncle had visited this district and he turned and walked back to the hotel. A clock was striking ten when Bob re-entered the lobby. He was almost at the elevators when the clerk called to him. “Telephone call just coming in for you,” he said. “You can answer here if you wish.” Bob hastened over to the desk. It must be his uncle, phoning to tell him that he had been detained. Bob picked up the instrument which the clerk handed him and placed the receiver to his ear. A gruff voice spoke, “Is this Bob Houston?” It was a strange voice and Bob tried to catalog its timbre, for it was pitched unusually low. “This is Bob Houston speaking,” he replied quietly. “Then listen to what I’ve got to say. We’ve got your uncle and we’ll get you and any other federal men who attempt to trail us. Get off this case and stay off if you ever want to see him alive again and you can tell that to Washington.” Chapter XX MEAGER HOPES ★ Before Bob could reply he heard the receiver on the other end of the line click. He whirled to the hotel clerk. “Any idea where that call came from?” he asked. “No.” “Get the chief operator for me at once,” said Bob, pulling out his badge to speed the clerk’s efforts. To the chief operator Bob explained who he was and what he wanted. “Hold the line,” said the telephone official. Bob leaned his elbows hard against the desk. He needed the extra support for he had suddenly gone weak all over. There had been grave menace in the throaty voice which had come over the wire and he did not doubt the truth of the threat. It was entirely possible that his uncle had been captured by the smugglers they were trailing and Bob knew, after his encounter with Hamsa, that they were perfectly capable of using the most drastic means to put out of the way any obstacle to the success of their plans. The chief operator spoke again. “Your call came from a pay station in a drug store near the water front.” Bob obtained the name of the drug store and he whirled away from the desk and ran outside to the taxi stand. He jumped into the first cab and gave the address of the drug store. “Step on it driver. I’ll clear you with any traffic officer that stops us.” “I’ve heard that story before,” grunted the driver as he shifted the gears. “This talks,” said Bob, shoving his badge into view of the driver.