Bill awoke, yawned, then sat up in bed. Broad daylight was streaming into the room through the screened windows and a glance at his watch showed the time to be nine o’clock. The door opened and Osceola poked his dark head around the edge of it.

“How’s the bandaged hero this morning?” he inquired and came into the bedroom.

“Sleepy, thank you.” Bill swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretched luxuriously and stood up. “I’ll feel more human when I’ve had a shower. Nothing happened across the way last night?”

“Not a blessed thing, and Deborah, I’m glad to say, seems quite her old self this morning.”
169

“Good! Any orders from the boss?”

“Davis, you mean?”

“Yeah. What’s the old sleuth doing this merry morn?”

“He’s gone to New York. Left on the express an hour and a half ago, said he’d be back by six-thirty this evening at the latest.”

“What are we to do in the meantime?”

“Take it easy. I didn’t sleep a wink last night, so I’m going to make up for it. I peeped in here a couple of times, but you were a dead one.”

“Why did you wait for me to wake up?”

“Davis left some of that salve for your hands. I knew you couldn’t apply it yourself and get the bandages back on again, so—”

“You did yourself out of some sleep for my sake—Well, you certainly are a good chap, Osceola! Let me get under that shower and then we’ll go to it on the first aid job.”
170

When Bill’s hands were dressed, Osceola went to his room, while his host spent a quiet morning lazing about the house. After lunch the boys fetched Dorothy and Deborah and drove down to the Beach Club. While Bill lay on the sand in the sun, the other three took a dip in the invigorating waters of Long Island Sound.

After ice cream and cakes on the Club House porch, they drove up into the hills to New Canaan again, much refreshed by their outing. All mention of winged cartwheels had been taboo throughout the afternoon, and Bill felt that he was ready to face the forthcoming adventure in Greenwich with added vim and a head swept clear of the cobwebs of worry and too much excitement. They dropped the girls at the Dixons’ and after driving home, found Mr. Davis smoking on the porch.

“Well, you men,” he greeted them with a jolly smile, “have you had a real lazy—and therefore profitable—day of it?”
171

“We sure have,” said Osceola. “Not only ourselves but the girls as well. We’ve just come back from a swim in the Sound. Poor Bill missed out on that end of it, though.”

“Glad you’ve had a good rest,” observed the secret service man, “you both needed it. Let’s have a look at the hands, Bill.”

“They certainly feel all to the merry,” said their owner, as the bandages were removed.

“And they are all to the merry, Bill.” Mr. Davis gently wiped away the brown salve with a clean piece of linen. “Just a little red, that’s all. They’ve healed by first intention, as I knew they would. Go easy with them for a couple of days and they’ll give you no more trouble.”

Bill stared at them in amazement. “That salve sure is wonderful stuff, sir! It’s worried me all day—that they might put a crimp in my evening. But I guess I’d better wear a pair of gloves, eh?”

“Yes, cotton ones for choice.”
172

“I’ll drive down to the village and see if I can pick up a pair for you,” offered Osceola.

“You forget,” said Bill, “that once upon a time, I was a midshipman. White cotton gloves are part of the equipment.”

“That reminds me,” said Mr. Davis. “I had a wire early this morning in response to one I sent Washington last night. My conference today in New York was with no less a person that a member of the President’s cabinet. This is a very serious charge we’re making against a very big man—who is also a tremendous power in politics, unfortunately, although few people are aware of that fact. And when I tell you that the gentleman I met today came from the capital as the direct representative of the President of the United States and as his spokesman, you may begin to get an idea of the magnitude this winged cartwheels affair has assumed. Tonight’s reconnoiter, for it will be little more than that, must be handled with kid gloves.”
173

“White cotton for mine!” Bill grinned at Osceola.

“Right-o, boy!” laughed the detective. “Maybe I’m getting a little too serious. But I’ve staked my reputation on Professor Fanely’s being the person we are looking for and any slips on our part mean an end to your friend Ashton Sanborn so far as his career is concerned.”

“And whatever careers may be opening up for Bill Bolton, and Osceola, the Seminole, for that matter!” supplemented the young Chief.

“Exactly! Now I’m going to tell you this evening’s plans—and I expect implicit obedience.”

Both young fellows nodded.
174

“We—that is, the three of us, will leave here after dinner in my car, so as to arrive in Greenwich about nine o’clock. It will be dark then. You lads will get out of the car about a quarter of a mile before we come to the Fanely estate, while I go on in the car and call on Professor Fanely.”

“What? You’re going up to the house quite openly?” Osceola cried.

“Quite openly, Chief, and in by the front door. I shall have credentials with me, and the probabilities are I shall be granted an interview by the old man. My pretext for intruding upon him will be that the man Kolinski, for whom the federal authorities are seeking, has been seen in the grounds. I shall tell the old man that it is understood this Pole is in his employ, but that no matter what references Kolinski may have had, he is an impostor, and a pedlar of narcotics.”

Bill drew a deep breath. “Well, I know it’s not my place t............