“Drat that office boy!” Mr. King said vehemently. “He’s never on the job when he’s needed. I’d like to see an office boy once who would attend to his job.” “Then take a good look at my young friend here, Mr. King. His name is Willie Brown. Willie, this is Mr. King. I knew you wanted a good office boy, and I brought him around. He’s all ready to go to work.” Mr. King looked puzzled. “What’s the joke, Frank?” he asked, after he had spoken to Willie. “There’s no joke at all,” said Sheridan. “This lad wants a job the worst way. But he’s awful particular. There’s only one job he’ll take. He wants to be an office boy for the Special Agent of the Treasury, and he came all the way from central Pennsylvania to get the job.” The Special Agent of the Treasury looked more puzzled than ever. “I am no mind reader, Frank,” he said. “Explain.” The Secret Service man laughed. “It’s this way, Mr. King. This boy is dead set upon becoming a Secret Service man, and——” “Been reading dime novels, like the rest of them, I’ll bet,” said Mr. King. “I don’t want him.” “Of course you don’t,” went on the Secret Service man, “but you will when you find out a little more about him. In the first place, he doesn’t read dime novels. In the second, he belonged to that bunch of wireless boys that helped to catch the German spy, Sanders, and his crew during the war. Third, he has set his heart upon becoming a Secret Service man. You know as well as I do that we couldn’t take him into the Service. But the Chief is interested in the lad, and he knows that you are in need of a good office boy. So he sent me down here to see what you could do for the lad.” “Passed the buck to me, did he?” said Mr. King, but he smiled when he said it. “B-rrrrrrrrrrr,” went the desk telephone. The Special Agent leaned forward and swung the instrument around toward himself. “Hello,” he called. “Yes. This is King.... Yes. They are all ready. I’ll send them this minute. Goodbye.” He pressed a button on his desk. “B-zzzzzzzzz! B-zzzzzzzz! B-zzzzzzzz!” went the buzzer at the office boy’s desk. There was no response. “B-zzzzzzzz!” went the buzzer again, long and angrily. “Drat that boy!” said the Special Agent. “I need him the worst way and I’d bet a dollar he’s out playing craps. I’ve got to get some papers up to the Deputy Attorney General at once.” Willie leaped to his feet. “May I take them?” he said. “Do you know where the Attorney General’s office is?” “No, sir. But I can find it if you give me the address.” “Do you think I dare trust him with these papers, Frank? They are important.” “They’ll be perfectly safe,” said the Secret Service man. “Then you take this package, Willie, and deliver it at the Attorney General’s office. Then come back here, and I’ll make it right with you.” The Special Agent wrote down an address on a slip of paper and handed it to Willie.