Bob attempted to throw off his assailant, but a thousand stars seemed to descend upon him, police sirens mixed in with roaring motors and blazing guns and in spite of his efforts he dropped into a jumbled sleep. Chapter XXIII ANXIOUS HOURS ★ Mixed sounds penetrated through a maze of pain which filled Bob’s head when he finally started to regain consciousness. First of all there was the noise of police sirens which seemed to fill the night air with their shrieks. Bob managed to raise himself up on one elbow just as a car careened around the corner and screeched to a stop. Men fairly poured from the car and Bob could see that each was heavily armed. Lights gleamed in the disrupted street and Bob turned to look for the car which he had commandeered and from which he had been so roughly jerked. It had vanished and only the damaged taxi remained. The echo of the gunfire had died away. A beam of light focused on Bob and a sharp command followed. “Don’t move!” At the moment Bob ached too much to care whether he ever moved. Someone came up from behind him and jerked him roughly to his feet. “Snap a pair of handcuffs on this bird. We’ll question him later.” The command was from an officer who seemed to be in charge of the squad. From back down the street more sirens shrilled and Bob saw two more cars pull to a stop and officers unload hastily. “Let me explain,” protested Bob. “If you’ll only look in the case inside my coat you’ll find my identification papers. I’m a provisional federal agent.” One of the police laughed scornfully. “That’s a fine story. You’re only a kid.” Bob was tired and worried now about his uncle. Hot tears of anger welled into his eyes and his voice trembled as he replied. “You’d better take the time to make sure before you handcuff me. A federal agent has been kidnaped on this street and you’d better hunt for him instead of wasting your time on me.” “Who was kidnaped?” the question was asked by a newcomer who had joined the group. “My uncle, Merritt Hughes,” replied Bob. “He’s in the Department of Justice.” “Say, maybe there is something to his story,” chimed in another officer. “I know there is a federal agent by the name of Hughes.” “Then you’d better start looking for him. He was down at the end of this street a couple of minutes ago, the target for three gunmen. We were trapped here in the taxi that’s deserted over there.” “Get busy, boys, and see what you can find,” ordered the sergeant who was in command of the squad. “I’ll take this boy down to the corner and we’ll phone the Department of Justice and check up on his story.” While the police detail spread out to comb the street, the sergeant and Bob walked back to the police car. “It will go hard on you, kid, if you’re trying to pull anything on us,” warned the sergeant.