"While we're out here fooling, Mr. Carlton is probably talking himself hoarse."
Conway suddenly broke away from Barry and started across the asphalted street.
"I've got it!" he shouted. "I've got it! The very thing!"
"What is it?" cried the boy, running after him.
"Look across the street," responded the correspondent, breathlessly, "do you see that big automobile, and do you see that red-haired youth in the front seat?"
"Yes, but I don't see the connection—yet."
"You will in a second. That's Danny Burns. He was in my class at Georgetown. He's the only son of one of the rubber kings. He has all kinds of wealth; money to burn, and oceans of time to consume it."
Before Barry could reply, Conway was hailing the young man in the automobile:
"Danny! Danny!"