-----------------------------------
Jack, Frank and Bob reached Washington alone, Mr. Temple, weeks before,
having left them in New Mexico to return to New York.
"You fellows have given me the longest and most exciting vacation from
business that I ever had," he said, on leaving them at the Hampton
ranch. "Little did I think I would be involved in international intrigue
on the border or engaged in breaking up a tremendous smuggling ring. But
I'm too old for all this excitement, although you youngsters seem to
flourish on it."
"Old," protested Bob. "Why, Dad, you look fitter after all our
experiences than for years."
Mr. Temple's eyes twinkled.
"Well," said he, "I can't say that I haven't enjoyed it all. Quite a
change from business, hey?" he added, appealing to Mr. Hampton, Jack's
father, the mining engineer.
Mr. Hampton nodded, smiling slightly. He himself led a life filled with
more adventure and excitement than that of the quieter business man. Yet
he, too, had had a considerable increase in thrills that summer,
kidnapped in an airplane and held captive by Mexican rebels at the
Calomares palace in the mountains of Sonora, as related in a previous
tale of _The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border_.
Life at the ranch had gone along quietly for the boys during the two
weeks after Mr. Temple's departure, filled with riding, several short
trips into the mountains and a visit to Santa Fe, second oldest city in
America, to inspect the ruins of the Spanish occupation.
Then had come the expected invitation from Inspector Burton of the
Secret Service to visit Washington, and with two weeks left of their
vacation, all three set out for New York via the national capital.
Now, as they stood in front of the New Willard at Fourteenth Street and
Pennsylvania Avenue, just around the corner from the White House, they
were filled with pleasurable excitement and some nervousness, too. For
they were going to meet the President of the United States.
"Be at the office of the President's Secretary at eleven o'clock," had
read the note from Inspector Burton, awaiting them at the hotel. He had
written he would be unable by reason of business engagements to meet
them at the hotel and conduct them to the White House, but that he would
meet them there.
It was a hot August day. Not a cloud was in the sky, and the sun shone
with an intensity that was almost unbearable. Heat waves danced on the
asphalt, and there were few people moving about. Washington in
mid-summer is at its deadest, for then the legislators and major
government officials have fled to seashore or mountain, the city is
depopulated, and those remaining stir abroad no more than necessary. In
its ring of hills, drowsy, somnolent, the governing center of the nation
takes a summer _siesta_ and waits for the coming of crisper autumn when
the wheels once more will begin to revolve.
For the President to be at the White House was unusual, but urgent
business having to do with a crisis in a little-known corner of Latin
America had demanded his presence. The boys had read of his return the
day previous in their morning paper.
Being a little ahead of the appointed time they walked leisurely along
Pennsylvania Avenue under the dusty trees, with the broad White House
lawn showing green and pleasant behind the high iron fence, and with the
White House handsome and dignified through the trees. Following
directions, they did not turn in at the wide main gateway, but at
Fifteenth Street turned and retraced their steps to the small
thoroughfare between the State, Army and Navy Building and the left wing
of the White House, where the executive offices are located.
Down this thoroughfare to the left they went, nervousness increasing,
turned in at a gateway and entered the anteroom of the President's
secretary. It was cool and quiet in there, and empty of its usual crowd
of men and women clamoring to see the President on some business or
other. Inspector Burton rose from a corner, and came forward hand
extended, and at his smile and reassuring handclasp the knees of the
chums ceased to be water and became a bit more solid once more.
After being introduced to the President's secretary they were taken to
the Blue Room, instead of the President's office, and there, amid the
summer dust cloths covering the furniture, in that room where the
presidents of the past had conferred upon matters that shook the world,
the President greeted them. Tall, elegant, elderly, gray, with a smile
and a homely manner of talking which put them at ease at once in some
magical way, he made a profound impression on the boys.
"Such boys as you," said he, in parting, "renew my faith in the future
of America."
Then they were out, and walking along Pennsylvania Avenue with Inspector
Burton, a bit dazed, sure that great distinction had been visited on
them, but not yet able to understand it all.
At Fifteenth Street, where they had turned back on their previous stroll
along the fenced White House lawn, the Secret Service man took them into
the imposing pile of the Treasury Building.
"The Chief wants to thank you," was the only explanation he vouchsafed.
First the President! Now the head of the Secret Service! Things were
coming fast. Jack and Bob looked solemn, but Frank the irrepressible,
catching sight of their long faces, burst into laughter.
"Brace up, my hearties," he cried, thwacking each on the back. "He's not
going to eat you. I have private information that assures me he won't."
The tension was relieved, as all laughed.
Then Inspector Burton conducted the chums into a high-ceilinged office
lined with books, looking more like a student's library than the office
of the head of the nation's great super-police force. A small man,
compactly built, with a close-clipped gray mustache, rose from a desk
and advanced to meet them.
"Well, well, so these are the young heroes," he said, grasping each in
turn firmly by the hand as the introductions were managed.
Then he stood back and took a long look at them, a twinkle in his eye at
the mounting color and embarrassed manner of the trio.
"I'd hate to meet any one of you in a rough-and-tumble fight," he said.
"No wonder you made things fly on the Pacific."
All sat down then and a general conversation about the break-up of the
smugglers' ring followed. The boys learned that "Black George" and Wong
Ho were in jail, awaiting trial, that three boats employed in the
smuggling traffic had been captured, that Mexico had been asked and had
agreed to prosecute the conspirators operating at Ensenada, that three
employees of the government were under arrest for conspiracy in the
smuggling operations, and that Matt Murphy was free on parole and the
case against him would not be pushed.
Finally, Inspector Burton arose and the boys took that as a signal it
was time to depart, and also got to their feet.
"I know of no way to reward you except to give you the thanks of the
Service," said the Chief at parting. "But that is yours. Good-by."
"Wow," said Frank, when they were alone at their hotel once more, "I
feel as if I owned the world."
"The common herd had better not talk to me for a while," declared Bob,
grinning. "I wouldn't be able to notice anybody less than a general."
"Same here," said Jack. "Well, now, fellows, what are we going to do?
Now that we're on the ground with a fine chance to see the sights, we
certainly aren't going to go right home, are we?"
"I move we stay until we take in everything," said Frank.
"Second the motion," said Bob. "But I tell you, going around in this
heat is going to cost me some weight."
"Oh, it'll just get you in condition for football," said Jack. "You're
getting too fat, anyhow."
That precipitated a general discussion of the forthcoming return to
Harrington Hall Military Academy, the football prospects, the effect
which recital of their thrilling summer would have on schoolmates, and
other matters of similar ilk. It would be Jack's last year, while Frank
and Bob, a class behind him, would have two years more before entering
college. All three planned to enter Yale, of which both Mr. Hampton and
Mr. Temple were graduates.
Three days they spent in sightseeing, paying visits to Mount Vernon,
George Washington's old home; the national cemetery at Arlington, quaint
Annapolis, where the Naval College is located, and inspecting the
capital and all the great public buildings.
Browned, looking taller and broader, every one, than at the beginning of
summer, they arrived home at length a week before the opening of school,
and spent the interim mainly in swimming and in reassembling the
airplane owned by Frank and Bob, which had been shipped on from New
Mexico, or in working at Jack's radio plant.
Frank, as stated in a previous tale, was an orphan and lived with the
Temples, Bob's father being his guardian. Jack, whose mother was dead
and whose father still was in New Mexico, decided to make his home at
the Temples instead of opening his own home. The Hampton and Temple
estates, situated on the far end of Long Island, adjoined each other.
And here, with their preparations for school, we shall leave our three
friends. But--here's a little secret--the following summer a mysterious
airplane, a sandy and secluded cove and what they found there, strange
lights at sea at night and the imprints of a one-legged man's wooden peg
on the sand of a deserted stretch of beach, all combined to draw the
three chums into adventures as exciting and thrilling as any that had
gone before. And these will be related in _The Radio Boys With the
Revenue Guard_.
THE END
THE RADIO BOYS SERIES
A Series of Stories for Boys of All Ages
By GERALD BRECKENRIDGE
The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border
The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty
The Radio Boys with the Revenue Guards
The Radio Boys' Search for the Inca's Treasure
The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition