"Well?" he cried, as he crossed the threshold, and came forward with expectant face.
"You'd better wire Curtiss to come back," I said.
"You've news for him?"
I nodded.
"I knew you'd have!" he said exultantly, and drew a pad of telegraph forms toward him and wrote a rapid message. "Curtiss is staying at a little place on Jamaica Bay. He was afraid to go any farther away, I suppose. He ought to be here in an hour," he added, and called a boy and gave him the message.
Then he swung around to me again.
"Now let's have the story," he prompted. "I know there's a story."
"Yes," I said; "there's a story. I was just——"
The door burst open with a crash, and in came Burr Curtiss himself.
"I couldn't stay away any longer!" he cried. "I was eating my heart out. Have you any news?"