“When will you dock?”
“This afternoon. Come see me this evening.”
“Thanks,” flashed back Willie. “I will. Where is the Lycoming?”
“She ought to be in by morning. She’s a few hours behind us.”
“I’ll be over to see you this evening. I must get to work now. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” came the answer, and Willie resumed his thankless task.
But his heart was lighter. He would have a friend to talk to that evening. The word friend had become very precious to Willie.
Persistently he continued his search through the ether, until the evening whistles warned him that he would have to get out of the building promptly, if he did not want to be locked in. He put on his cap, walked rapidly down the corridor, and got a bite to eat at a near-by quick lunch counter. Then he went for a little walk in Battery Park. At half-past seven he started for the Ward line piers. The Morro Castle was docked, and all was quiet aboard her. Willie gained admission to the pier and sought out Mr. Reynolds in the wireless cabin.
“Hello!” cried the wireless man, jumping up and grasping Willie’s hand warmly. “How goes it? How are you getting on in the customs service?”
A cloud came over Willie’s face. “I oughtn’t to bother you with my troubles,” he said, “but it has been pretty hard to stand up under them, for I hadn’t a friend in the city to talk it over with.”