“They’re even searching the closets,” volunteered the elevator operator, “for the fellow who was caught up on your floor was wearing the guard’s uniform.” Bob whistled softly. This was getting more serious every minute. He wondered about phoning the news upstairs to his uncle. But he decided against that. They would soon return to the upper floor and he could tell him then. The night was as blustery as ever and Bob drew his topcoat close as the first gust of wind and rain swept down on them. The flashlights threw feeble glows ahead of them as they floundered through the shrubbery which flanked the base of the building. “Ouch!” cried the filing chief as a piece of shrubbery snapped into his face and Bob turned to help him. “Go on; I’m all right,” said Jacobs and they pushed ahead, Bob in the lead. Back and forth they beat their way through the shrubbery, their lights held close to the ground. Time after time they stopped to pick up a sheet of paper in the faint hope that it might be the missing radio document they were seeking so anxiously. Now they were directly under the windows of the office. Bob, looking up, could see the glow of lights from the windows. Here they were doubly careful to make a thorough search and Arthur Jacobs went over every inch of the ground with his own light, stooping to be sure that no scrap of paper went unobserved. The quest looked hopeless and Bob stood up to ease his aching back. “Guess we might as well give up,” he said. “Tully will be here in a few minutes and we’ll want to be back upstairs when he arrives.” “There’s just a chance the paper might have been blown around the corner,” said the filing chief, who was determined to cling to even the most slender hope. “Well, there’s a chance, but it’s a mighty slim one. We’ll have a try, though,” agreed Bob. The rain was even sharper as they turned to the corner of the building and the lights attempted to pierce the blackness of the hour. For five minutes they crawled back and forth underneath the shrubbery. Bob was chilled now and a trickle of water, coming off his hat and dropping down his neck, did nothing to improve his spirits. His knees and back ached and it would seem good to get back into the office where it was light and warm and there would be no rain to face. “I guess we’ve looked under every shrub on this side of the building,” finally said Arthur Jacobs and there was a bitter note of disappointment in his voice. “We might as well give up and go back.” Bob straightened up and the beam from his flashlight struck one of the deep, recessed windows that were on the ground floor. The ledge in front of the window itself was at least two feet wide and it was on this ledge that the beam of light centered. Bob cried out involuntarily and Arthur Jacobs, hearing the cry, whirled to his side.