“Oh, it’s Sandy Hyde!” exclaimed Vic, with a little scream of satisfaction.
“Who the devil is he?” thought Patsy, sharply regarding the panting scamp.
Though this advent of Hyde brought a look of relief to the face of each, Badger kept a taut rein on the threatening business then on hand, and he almost immediately demanded:
“What brings you out here, Sandy?”
“Wait till I get my breath, and I’ll tell you,” panted Hyde. “I’ve run all the way from the trolley. The chief kept me at work till half an hour ago.”
“Is there something wrong at headquarters?” snarled Badger quickly.
“What’s that?” muttered Patsy mentally. “A spy from the chief’s office, or I’ll eat my boots! By thunder! it’s no wonder that this case has baffled the efforts of the Boston force.”
Patsy was quick enough to see all it meant, in case he was correct in his immediate conjecture.
Sandy Hyde, who had paused a moment to get a drink of water at the kitchen sink, now hastened to reply to Badger’s question.
“Wrong at headquarters? I should say so!” he cried. “I have just got wise to something, less than an hour ago. Who’s that chap?”