from the first moment of the spoken words, did not leave it.
"Say, are you going to talk all day, without giving me a hint of what it is?" spoke Joe, in a tense whisper. "Let me listen in; can't you, old man?"
"Right away—yes," answered Blake, in an aside. "All right," he called into the transmitter. "Yes, I'll tell Joe all about it. He'll come with me, I'm sure."
"I rather guess I will—if I ever find out what it's about," murmured the other. "Have a heart, and tell me."
"Good-bye," called Blake, into the telephone. "I'll see you in New York."
Then he hung up the receiver, and, turning to his chum, asked:
"What do you think has happened?"
"I haven't the least idea, unless New York is wiped off the map by a dynamite explosion, and we're wanted to help put it back."
"No, it isn't exactly that," said Blake. "I was talking just now to Mr. Ringold. He's in a peck of trouble!"
"How's that?"
"Why, he wants us to start for the flooded Mississippi district at once, and get a lot of scenes out there. But that's not the worst. Part
