“There’s just as much savagery—­of a kind—­right in the heart of civilization,” said the Porto Rican.  “The slums of a great city are little less dangerous than a Philippine jungle, and you will do well to remember it.”

“Why should I remember it especially?” asked Hamilton in surprise.

“Mr. Burns, who has been made an Inspector, told me the other day that he expected to start soon for some of the larger cities, where reports of census frauds had been made, and that he thought he would take you along, if the Director was willing.”

“You mean the Mr. Burns I was with in New Haven?”

“Yes, he seems to want to have you as his assistant in that work.”

“That would be just splendid,” said Hamilton, his eyes shining, “but how about the Porto Rican report, Mr. Alavero?”

“I think I can manage it,” the other replied, endeavoring to suppress a smile, “and the chapter that you were working on is nearly done, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy answered, “I can finish it in a couple of days.”

“That will be in plenty of time,” the editor assured him.  “I don’t think Mr. Burns intends to start until some time next week.”

Before many days had passed Hamilton found the correctness of the Porto Rican’s information, for as he was busily engaged in compiling a big tabulation on the proportion of breadwinners per age and sex for one of the provinces of the island, his friend the special agent of manufactures, under whom he had been at New Haven, strolled into the office.

“Why, Mr. Burns,” the boy said delightedly, jumping up and shaking hands, “I haven’t seen you for ever so long.”

“I haven’t been in Washington more than twenty-two per cent of the time,” was the reply “and I’m going away on the eleven-fifty next Tuesday evening.  Do you want to come along?”

“But—­”

“The Director said, if you wanted to come, I could take you.”

“Where are we going, Mr. Burns?”

“New York.”

“What for?”

“Seems to me, Alavero,” said the Inspector, turning to the Porto Rican, “that you’ve been teaching this lad to ask questions.  Out of the four remarks he has made since I came in, two have been questions.  Fifty per cent is a high average.  Well, I’ll tell you,” he added, turning to the boy, “it’s just this:  there are always some cities that aren’t satisfied with the census.  I believe of the cities of over thirty thousand inhabitants at this census there has been something like nine, decimal-eight-one per cent protests, and the most necessary of these the Bureau investigates.  Perhaps ten or a dozen in the entire country get a recount.  The Bureau doesn’t officially recognize some of them but sends an inspector to look over the ground, and see if everything was done right.  That’s what we’re going to do in New York.”

“All right,” said Hamilton briefly.

“You’ll be on that train?”