been selected for the job because he is familiar with motor-cycles."

Henry's eyes lighted with pleasure. Not only was he the oldest boy in
the wireless patrol, and Captain Hardy's first lieutenant, but he was
one of those natural mechanics who seem to know instinctively how to
handle tools and make things. Indeed he had constructed his own
wireless outfit and shown his fellows how to make theirs; and he could
repair a motor-cycle almost as skilfully as a garage man. So it was
natural that he should be selected for this task.

But there was still another reason why his captain had chosen him for
the work he had in mind. Though not so quick or clever as Roy, Henry
was a keen observer and close reasoner. Moreover, he was entirely
dependable, was very discreet, and being the largest boy in the party,
was best fitted to take care of himself if he got into trouble.

"We are going to trail this automobile driver with a motor-cycle, as
you have probably guessed," explained Captain Hardy to the little group
of scouts. "And Henry is to do the trailing. Come, Henry. We'll go
take a look at your machine. The secret service people said that it
would be here in half an hour."

"Where? In this house?" asked Roy eagerly.

"No, not here, but at a house around the corner from the grocer's. It
will always be in readiness for instant use."

As Henry put on his hat and followed his leader, the other scouts
looked at him somewhat enviously. "Remember," said their leader,
turning about, "each one of you has his work to do, just as Henry has.
See that you do it."

At once the boys returned to their posts, while Henry and his captain
passed out of the house and went down the street. Instead of going
directly to their destination, the two made their way by a roundabout
route and kept a sharp lookout lest they should meet the grocer or his
boy. But they passed almost no one and came soon to a little white
house, not far from the grocer's store, that was set back in a yard
behind a high hedge. Connected with the house was a small garage,
built so as to resemble an extension of the dwelling.

A keen-eyed woman answered their knock at the door and looked at them
questioningly.

"We are the sugar refiners sent by the Federal Sugar Company," said
Captain Hardy, repeating the words given him by the secret service
agent.

"I've been looking for you," replied the woman. "Come in." And she
led them at once through the house