“Well, shake hands. It’s no use to try to fool you any longer. I am a Secret Service man as you know. And I’m after that gang of canal boat men. I’m mightily obliged to you for your help to-night.”
“It was mighty little help I gave you,” said Willie, “though I’d have been glad to help you if I could.”
“You were a good deal of help. A fellow always likes to know he has somebody near that he can rely on. Nothing turned up, to be sure, but if those fellows had tumbled to who I was, I’d have needed you all right enough—and a whole platoon of cops beside.” And the Secret Service man chuckled.
“What—what are those bargemen up to?” asked Willie, with some hesitation.
“Wool smuggling. The case doesn’t amount to much itself, but it may help us to solve some matters that do amount to a great deal. But you haven’t told me yet how you got those old rags you have on and how you found me.”
“That’s easy,” laughed Willie. “I watched the bargemen go up the street until they turned in at the coffee-house. So I felt sure I knew where you would be. And after I had telephoned to the office and gotten an answer for you, I came across a ragged newsy. I knew my own clothes might attract attention in a place like that coffee-house, and I gave the newsy your dollar bill for his outfit. That’s how I became a newsy myself.”
“Well, you’ve got a lot of sense, kid. You’d make a good Secret Service man yourself.”
“Do you really think so?” cried Willie, his heart beginning to beat fast.
“Haven’t any doubt of it.”
“Do you think I could get a job with the Secret Service?”