“Working,” replied Billy briefly. “I’m on the Washington Post.”
“But I thought you were going to take a holiday after you had realized your money on the sale of your share of the rubies we found in the Toltec cave;” said Frank wonderingly.
“Well,” rejoined Billy, “of course the money I got for my two rubies looked good and it feels pretty nifty to have a check-book in your inside pocket; but I guess I can’t be happy unless I’m working. I bought my mother up the state a pretty little place in Brooklyn and tried to settle down to be a young gentleman of leisure but it wouldn’t do. I wasn’t happy. Every time I saw the fire-engines go by or read a good thrilling story in the paper I wanted to be back on the job, so I just got out and hustled about for one and here I am.”
“But what are you doing at the office of the Secretary of the Navy,” demanded the boys.
“Ah, that’s just it,” rejoined Billy mysteriously, “I’m on the track of the biggest story of my career and I think it’s a scoop. Can you fellows keep a secret?”
“We can do better than that,” laughed Frank, “we can tell you one. What would you say if we could tell you your errand here?”
“That you are pretty good mind-readers,” retorted Billy promptly. “I can guess yours though. You are here to try to sell the government an air-ship.”
“Wrong,” shouted Frank triumphantly. “But you—William Barnes—” he went on, making a mysterious pass at the other boy’s head, “you are here to find out about Lieutenant Chapin.”
“How on earth did you know that?” gasped Billy, “you are right though. Do you know anything about it?” he inquired anxiously.
“Everything,” replied Frank.