importer, offices No. 42 Wall Street--home, White Plains."

"White Plains, that's where Lathrop's folks live," exclaimed Harry.
"That's where he first became associated with the Golden Eagle."

"And turned out to be a good partner," added Frank.

"A jim dandy," agreed Billy. "I tell you boys, I've got a good nose
for news and if there isn't some sort of a story back of Mr. Luther
Barr and Lathrop's letter I'll eat my hat without sauce."

Any acceptance of the young reporter's generous offer was interrupted
by a sudden noise in the usually quiet street.

"I tell you the fare's a dollar!" the boys heard an angry voice
declaim.

"'Tain't nothing of the kind or I'm a lubber--fifty cents is all
I'll pay. I'll be horn-swoggled if you get a cent more, yer
deep-sea pirate," was the indignant phrased reply.

Something in the voice was strangely familiar but the "horn-swoggled"
settled it.

"Ben Stubbs," gasped all the, boys simultaneously and rushed out of
the garage to the street.

Here they found a stoutly-built, crisp-bearded man with a face
tanned to what Billy called a "weathered oak finish," arguing loudly
with a taxicab chauffeur. The man was obdurate over his fare and