“Oh! I see,” replied Willie. “And do you think there might be a chance for me there?” “Maybe not right away,” was the reply, “but I’m sure there would be before very long.” “I’m a thousand times obliged to you,” said Willie. “Shall I go right down and see the Special Agent?” “Mr. Sheridan will go with you. Good-bye and good luck to you.” He shook hands heartily with Willie, then turned to his desk. With high hopes, Willie followed Sheridan down the corridor to the elevator. Arriving presently at the Custom-house, the two mounted the broad flight of steps, with beautiful groups of heroic statuary on either hand. They passed through the great door, and entered the building. Engrossed though Willie was in the matter of getting a job, he paused involuntarily to gaze at the beautiful structure in which he now found himself. So well proportioned was the building that Willie had twice looked at it that very morning without ever a thought of its size. In fact, it had seemed to him to be small. But now, as he looked down the long, roomy corridors and noted the lofty ceiling and the general air of spaciousness, he suddenly remembered that the building occupied the entire block on which it was located, and that it was seven stories high. Any one might be deceived by the exterior of the building, but nobody could be by the interior. It was rich and beautiful, and Willie felt very certain that it must be one of the finest custom-houses in the world—as it is. The beautiful marble corridors, the exquisite metal work, of bronze and other materials, the wonderful woodwork, all impressed Willie by their beauty and finish. It made him proud to think that this magnificent structure belonged to his government. Some day, he hoped, this would be his headquarters, the place where he worked. His heart beat faster at the thought. He stepped into the elevator with his companion and was shot up to the fourth floor. Down a long corridor they went, and through a door at the end of it. The door opened into an anteroom. A sort of settee for callers occupied the space along one wall, and opposite this was a low railing, barring visitors from further progress. Inside of this railing were a chair and a desk, obviously the place for an office boy. But no office boy was visible. Willie wondered if he would ever sit in that chair. For a moment or two they hesitated in the anteroom. Then Sheridan pushed through the gate and stuck his head through an inner door, that opened into a large, spacious, well-furnished office. “Hello, Frank. Come in,” Willie heard a hearty voice calling from within the inner room. Sheridan turned and beckoned to Willie, who scurried through the gate and followed hard on the Secret Service man’s heels. “How are you, Mr. King?” Willie heard his companion say. “I didn’t like to butt in here this way, but I couldn’t find anybody to take a word to you.”