Walter and the Wireless

by Sara Ware Bassett

"Must have speeded up some!" commented he, on viewing the throbbing machine. "Left New York at midnight," they said. "Some friends of the master's likely, come to play golf."

Ever given to frankness it was on the tip of Walter's tongue to declare the real identity of the strangers, but fortunately he bethought him in time to halt the words.

"What did they look like?" inquired he, eager to know and yet anxious not to appear inquisitive.

"Look like? Like any other dusty, muddy guys," grumbled Wheeler, eyeing with disdain the grimy automobile which he knew he would be expected to clean.

"Old or young?" persisted His Highness.

"Old enough to know better than to heat up an engine this way, but young enough to do it," snapped Wheeler. "Shouldn't think their car had seen water in years, it's that filthy. A rum job for me!"

Walter, however, did not reply. He was not in the least interested in the mud-caked car. It was its occupants that aroused his curiosity. In all his life he had never seen a genuine detective and he was all impatience for a peep at persons allied with such an intriguing profession. While his reason told him they must, of course, look precisely like other men, nevertheless the hope would persist that perhaps, after all, they didn't. And even if they did appear like ordinary mortals were there not their myriad disguises? He hoped with all his heart they would wear some of these, that the exigencies of the case would compel it.

Very great, then, was his surprise and disappointment when on being summoned to the big house soon after the arrival of these interesting creatures he was presented to two commonplace beings who, although charming gentlemen, were not in the least different from anybody else. Mr. Dacie, the younger of the men, was a pleasant, blond-haired fellow who instantly ingratiated himself in the boy's affections by asking him if he collected stamps and bestowing on him two rare ones from China. In fact he seemed to like everything a boy liked and appeared to be almost a boy himself.

Mr. Lyman was older but he, too, when he was not being stern and business-like, was very jolly. No one could possibly be afraid of either one of them and then and there His Highness's faith in the ultimate success of Mr. Crowninshield's cause dwindled and died. They weren't disguised at all; and if they had pistols they must have had them well concealed for the only suspicious articles produced from their pockets were notebooks and pencils. He had expected to be quite awed by their presence but on the contrary he found, when he started out to show them the kennels and the place where he had seen the automobile tracks, that he was chattering away to both of them quite as if he had known them all his life.

Mr. Dacie was particularly friendly, and as they walked along he talked much of sports, dogs, and fishing. Furthermore he was intensely interested in Bob and listened attentively to all that was told him about this remarkable big brother. He had a bully brother himself, he said. In short, before a half hour had passed His Highness had not only decided to become a detective but to become one exactly like Mr. Dacie.