"Sure thing," panted Henry. "Just got a telegram from Washington."
That was too much for Henry's companion. "Gee whiz!" he said again. "I wish I belonged to the wireless patrol."
Henry looked at him sympathetically, half sorry that he had said what he had. "Maybe you will some day," he replied. "Good-bye."
They had reached the home of wee Willie Brown. Henry stopped abruptly and turned in at the open gate. He mounted the steps and rang the bell. Mrs. Brown opened the door.
"Is Willie—at home—Mrs. Brown?" he asked, all out of breath.
"Yes, Henry," replied Mrs. Brown. "You'll find him up in his room."
"Is he busy?"
"Oh! He's tinkering with his wireless, as usual," said Mrs. Brown. "But he's always glad to see you, Henry."
"He will be this time, I'm sure," said Henry. "The wireless patrol is ordered out on a spy hunt."
"What! Not again?" queried Mrs. Brown, in astonishment. "Where are you going this time?"