Bob would have preferred to remain in Jacksonville to lead the hunt for his uncle, but he knew that Adams was both capable and ruthless and when a federal agent was kidnaped, personal feelings which Adams might have toward his uncle would vanish. Bob mulled over the preceding events and the disappearance of his uncle strengthened his belief that Hamsa had survived his fall off the trestle and into the flood waters the night before. If Hamsa had not survived, Bob doubted if his uncle would have been abducted for he knew that Hamsa would be afraid of the results when his uncle and he got to comparing notes. The feeling that some momentous activity by the smugglers was under way grew as Bob lay there on the bed. The leaders were desperate and yet courageous enough to attempt to do away with two federal agents and having failed to do that had kidnaped a third. Bob got up and scanned a map of Florida which he had obtained. His finger ran along the coastline until he came to Atalissa. Then he traced on down to Nira where Tully had been assigned. It was a desolate, sparsely inhabited section of the coast—an area which in centuries before had probably been a favorite hiding place for bands of pirates who had roved the Spanish main. Numerous indentations dotted the coast, offering ample shelter to men who were afraid of the law. With a start Bob noticed the time. It was after eleven o’clock. He was taking no chances and he adjusted the shoulder holster, filled the chambers of the revolver with shells, and slipped on his coat. At the desk downstairs he left word for the clerk to take any message which might come for him. Then he sped toward the station in a taxi. When he arrived at the terminal he found that the train Condon Adams was coming on was half an hour late, for the tracks north were still soft from the heavy rain of the preceding night. Bob sat down to wait for the arrival of the train and as the minutes slipped away he had the feeling that he was under observation. The hair along the back of his neck tingled and he wanted to turn around and stare at those back of him. Instead, he moved once or twice as though restless and finally stood up, stretched, and strolled over to the magazine stand, where he could turn around and see the entire concourse. Bob picked up a magazine and skimmed through the pages with fingers that turned the sheets mechanically while his keen eyes roved over the room. Finally he came back to a lightly built man who had been leaning against a radiator somewhat to the right and back of the bench on which he had been seated. The man was dressed in a poorly fitted dark suit, wore a cap, and moved restlessly. He was the only one in the scattered gathering of people in the station whom Bob would suspect of being there to watch him.