Except for the watchman, not a soul was astir about the _Lycoming_ when Willie awoke the next morning. Eagerly he rose and dressed. Even with a multitude of interesting things about him to occupy the hours, he could hardly wait to resume the pursuit of the wool smugglers. But somehow he managed to pass the day, though as the afternoon waned his impatience increased visibly. When supper-time came and Sheridan had not yet appeared, Willie was almost in despair. He felt certain the Secret Service man had decided not to take him on the adventure. All things come to him who waits, however, and time brought Sheridan to Willie. After the distressed lad had almost given up hope of seeing him, the Secret Service man appeared. Willie was too much agitated to remain quietly aboard the boat, and was pacing up and down the pier, when he heard a voice speaking to the watchman at the pier entrance. He recognized the voice instantly and raced down the pier to greet the Secret Service man. “Well,” smiled Sheridan, “do you still want to go with me? Haven’t got cold feet, have you?” “Want to go with you?” repeated Willie. “Why, I was almost sick for fear you had passed me up.” Sheridan laughed. “I should have told you just when to expect me,” he said. “But the fact is that a fellow in this business never knows where he will be from hour to hour. However, I might have told you that this auction was set for nine o’clock.” “Auction!” cried Willie. “Aren’t we going after the wool smugglers? I don’t want to go to any auction.” “You will want to go to this one, all right. It’s going to be an auction of bled wool.” “An auction of bled wool! What do you mean? Has it anything to do with those smuggling bargemen?” “Everything. That’s the way they get rid of their wool. You see they steal it while they are carrying it on their barges. The wool comes into this port in great bales, weighing hundreds of pounds. A barge is loaded with, say, five hundred bales of it. The barge captain ‘bleeds’ the bales. Perhaps he takes only a pound from each bale. When he reaches his destination, he has to deliver the five hundred bales. He does it, of course, but each bale is just a little short in weight. Perhaps the bargeman has taken enough in all to make a bale for himself.” “I see,” said Willie. “And then he sells this stolen wool at auction.” “Exactly.” “But who will buy it? People must know it is stolen.” “Sure they know it. They buy it because they are dishonest, like the bargeman himself.” “But sooner or later some of them will be caught. Why do they run the risk when they can buy wool that isn’t stolen?”