with apparent satisfaction. Evidently something
had happened that had put him in an extremely good humor.

"Ah! Captain Hardy," he said, "we beat you to it this time. I already
know what you have come to tell me. But I am glad to see you just the
same. One of our operators," continued the Chief, "happened to be
shifting his tuning-coil when our friends, the enemy, were sending
their message yesterday afternoon, so that I have all the latest spy
news."

He paused and smiled at his astonished visitor. "You see," he added, a
real Irish twinkle coming into his eyes, "the secret service is not so
slow after all."

"Congratulations!" cried Captain Hardy, in the same spirit of fun.
"The secret service is improving. But I have some news that may make
my trip not altogether without interest to you."

The Chief interrupted him. "We know who the man is that has been
telephoning to your Staten Island grocer about sugar," he said. "When
he called up yesterday afternoon, the telegraph operator flashed the
tip to my man, who happened to be on duty within a few doors of the
place the man was talking from. Of course my man spotted him and
trailed him. The fellow proves to be a clerk on one of the piers where
transports are loading. His position gives him no opportunity to get
aboard the ships, so he does not know what goes into the transports.
But he does know how many boats are loading and about when they will
sail. Evidently he is afraid to telephone directly to any of the
better known German agents we are watching, and as far as that goes he
may not even know who they are. I suppose this plan of communicating
with Staten Island is to give the spy there a chance to observe the
transports as they sail from the harbor, and see if he can learn
anything about their cargoes. We have put this steamship clerk under
observation and from now on he will be watched night and day. We're
closing in on them fast."

"Congratulations!" cried Captain Hardy again, this time in sober
earnest. "You are doing excellent work. Now when you hear what we----"

Again the Chief interrupted him. "Oh! I haven't told you all _my_
news yet, not by a long shot," he said. And again the head of the
secret service rubbed his hands together. "We know who the driver of
the wireless motor-car is. I don't mean we know the name he's using.
Anybody could get that out of a directory. It's Sanders. But we know
who he really is. And that's why w