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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of John Dene of Toronto, by Herbert Jenkins
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: John Dene of Toronto
+       A Comedy of Whitehall
+
+Author: Herbert Jenkins
+
+Release Date: July 27, 2010 [EBook #33277]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN DENE OF TORONTO ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines, from scans obtained from The Internet Archive.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+JOHN DENE
+
+of TORONTO
+
+
+A COMEDY OF WHITEHALL
+
+
+BY
+
+HERBERT JENKINS
+
+
+AUTHOR OF "BINDLE"
+
+
+
+
+HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED
+
+3 YORK STREET LONDON S.W.1
+
+1920
+
+
+
+
+  A
+  HERBERT
+  JENKINS'
+  BOOK
+
+
+
+_Fifth printing_
+
+
+
+Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London
+
+
+
+
+  TO
+  MY FRIEND AND COLLEAGUE
+  CHARLES ASKEW
+  WHO HAS BEEN AS STRENUOUS
+  AS THE TIMES THEMSELVES
+  AND INFINITELY MORE CHEERFUL
+
+  MCMXV-MCMXIX
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAP.
+
+     I.  THE COMING OF JOHN DENE
+    II.  JOHN DENE'S WAY
+   III.  DEPARTMENT Z.
+    IV.  GINGERING UP THE ADMIRALTY
+     V.  JOHN DENE LEAVES WHITEHALL
+    VI.  MR. MONTAGU NAYLOR OF STREATHAM
+   VII.  MR. NAYLOR RECEIVES A VISITOR
+  VIII.  DOROTHY WEST AT HOME
+    IX.  DEPARTMENT Z. AT WORK
+     X.  JOHN DENE GOES TO KEW
+    XI.  THE STRANGENESS OF JOHN DENE
+   XII.  THE _DESTROYER_ READY FOR SEA
+  XIII.  THE DISAPPEARANCE OF JOHN DENE
+   XIV.  THE HUE AND CRY
+    XV.  MR. LLEWELLYN JOHN BECOMES ALARMED
+   XVI.  FINLAY'S S.O.S.
+  XVII.  MALCOLM SAGE CASTS HIS NET
+ XVIII.  THE RETURN OF JOHN DENE
+   XIX.  COMMANDER JOHN DENE GOES TO BOURNEMOUTH
+    XX.  JOHN DENE'S PROPOSAL
+   XXI.  MARJORIE ROGERS PAYS A CALL
+
+
+
+
+WHAT THIS STORY IS ABOUT
+
+John Dene comes to England with a great invention, and the intention of
+gingering-up the Admiralty.  His directness and unconventional methods
+bewilder and embarrass the officials at Whitehall, where, according to
+him, most of the jobs are held by those "whose great-grandfathers had a
+pleasant way of saying how-do-you-do to a prince."
+
+Suddenly John Dene disappears, and the whole civilised world is amazed
+at an offer of L20,000 for news of him.  Scotland Yard is disorganised
+by tons of letters and thousands of callers.  Questions are asked in
+the House, the Government becomes anxious, only Department Z. retains
+its equanimity.
+
+By the way, what did happen to John Dene of Toronto?
+
+
+For list of books by the same author, see page 319.
+
+
+
+
+JOHN DENE OF TORONTO
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE COMING OF JOHN DENE
+
+"Straight along, down the steps, bear to the left and you'll find the
+Admiralty on the opposite side of the way."
+
+John Dene thanked the policeman, gave the cigar in his mouth a twist
+with his tongue, and walked along Lower Regent Street towards Waterloo
+Place.
+
+At the bottom of the Duke of York's steps, he crossed the road, turned
+to the left and paused.  Nowhere could he see an entrance sufficiently
+impressive to suggest the Admiralty.  Just ahead was a dingy and
+unpretentious doorway with a policeman standing outside; but that he
+decided could not be the entrance to the Admiralty.  As he gazed at it,
+a fair-haired girl came out of the doorway and walked towards him.
+
+"Excuse me," said John Dene, lifting his hat, "but is that the
+Admiralty you've just come out of?"
+
+There was an almost imperceptible stiffening in the girl's demeanour;
+but a glance at the homely figure of John Dene, with its ill-made
+clothes, reassured her.
+
+"Yes, that is the Admiralty," she replied gravely in a voice that
+caused John Dene momentarily to forget the Admiralty and all its works.
+
+"Much obliged," he said, again lifting his hat as she walked away; but
+instead of continuing on his way, John Dene stood watching the girl
+until she disappeared up the Duke of York's steps.  Then once more
+twirling his cigar in his mouth and hunching his shoulders, he walked
+towards the doorway she had indicated.
+
+"This the Admiralty?" he enquired of the policeman.
+
+"Yes, sir," was the reply.  "Did you want to see any one?"
+
+John Dene looked at the man in surprise.
+
+"Why should I be here if I didn't?" he asked.  "I want to see the First
+Lord."
+
+The man's manner underwent a change.  "If you'll step inside, sir,
+you'll see an attendant."
+
+John Dene stepped inside and repeated his request, this time to a
+frock-coated attendant.
+
+"Have you an appointment?" enquired the man.
+
+"No," responded John Dene indifferently.
+
+The attendant hesitated.  It was not customary for unknown callers to
+demand to see the First Lord without an appointment.  After a momentary
+pause the man indicated a desk on which lay some printed slips.
+
+"Will you please fill in your name, sir, and state your business."
+
+"State my business," exclaimed John Dene, "not on your life."
+
+"I'm afraid----" began the man.
+
+"Never mind what you're afraid of," said John Dene, "just you take my
+name up to the First Lord.  Here, I'll write it down."  Seizing a pen
+he wrote his name, "John Dene of Toronto," and then underneath, "I've
+come three thousand miles to tell you something; perhaps it's worth
+three minutes of your time to listen."
+
+"There, take that up and I'll wait," he said.
+
+The attendant read the message, then beckoning to another frock-coated
+servitor, he handed him the paper, at the same time whispering some
+instructions.  John Dene looked about him with interest.  He was
+frankly disappointed.  He had conceived the administrative buildings of
+the greatest navy in the world as something grand and impressive; yet
+here was the British Admiralty with an entrance that would compare
+unfavourably with a second-rate hotel in Toronto.
+
+He turned suddenly and almost ran into a shifty-eyed little man in a
+grey tweed suit, who had entered the Admiralty a moment after him.  The
+man apologised profusely as John Dene eyed him grimly.  He had become
+aware of the man's interest in his colloquy with the attendant, and of
+the way in which he had endeavoured to catch sight of what was written
+on the slip of paper.
+
+John Dene proceeded to stride up and down with short, jerky steps,
+twirling his unlit cigar round in his mouth.
+
+"Excuse me, sir," said the attendant, approaching, "but smoking is not
+permitted."
+
+"That so?" remarked John Dene without interest, as he continued to roll
+his cigar in his mouth.
+
+"Your cigar, sir," continued the man.
+
+"It's out."  John Dene still continued to look about him.
+
+The attendant retired nonplussed.  The rule specifically referred to
+smoking, not to carrying unlit cigars in the mouth.
+
+At the end of five minutes, the attendant who had taken up John Dene's
+name returned, and whispered to the doorkeeper.
+
+"If you will follow the attendant, sir, he will take you to see Sir
+Lyster's secretary, Mr. Blair."
+
+"Mr.----" began John Dene, then breaking off he followed the man up the
+stairs, and along a corridor, at the end of which another frock-coated
+man appeared from a room with a small glass door.  He in turn took
+charge of the visitor, having received his whispered instructions from
+the second attendant.  John Dene was then shown into a large room with
+a central table, and requested to take a seat.  He was still engaged in
+gazing about him when a door at the further end of the room opened and
+there entered a fair man, with an obvious stoop, a monocle, a heavy
+drooping moustache, and the nose of a duke in a novelette.
+
+"Mr. John Dene?" he asked, looking at the slip of paper in his hand.
+
+"Sure," was the response, as John Dene continued to twirl the cigar in
+his mouth, with him always a sign either of thought or of irritation.
+
+"You wish to see the First Lord?" continued the fair man.  "I am his
+secretary.  Will you give me some idea of your business?"
+
+"No, I won't," was the blunt response.
+
+Mr. Blair was momentarily disconcerted by the uncompromising nature of
+the retort, but quickly recovered himself.
+
+"I am afraid Sir Lyster is very busy this morning," he said,
+diplomatically.  "If you----"
+
+"Look here," interrupted John Dene, "I've come three thousand miles to
+tell him something; if he hasn't time to listen, then I'll not waste my
+time; but before you decide to send me about my business, you just ring
+up the Agent-General for Can'da and ask who John Dene of T'ronto is;
+maybe you'll learn something."
+
+"But will you not give me some idea----" began the secretary.
+
+"No, I won't," was the obstinate reply.  "Here," he cried with sudden
+inspiration, "give me some paper and a pen, and I'll write a note."
+
+Mr. Blair sighed his relief; he was a man of peace.  He quickly
+supplied the caller's demands.  Slowly he indited his letter; then,
+taking a case from his pocket, he extracted an envelope which he
+enclosed with the letter in another envelope, and finally addressed it
+to "The First Lord of the Admiralty."
+
+"Give him this," he said, turning to Mr. Blair, "and say I'm in a
+hurry."
+
+Nothing but a long line of ancestors prevented Mr. Blair from gasping.
+Instead he took the note with a diplomatic smile.
+
+"You wouldn't do for T'ronto," muttered John Dene as the First Lord's
+private secretary left the room.  Two minutes later he returned.
+
+"Sir Lyster will see you, Mr. Dene," he said with a smile.  "Will you
+come this way?  I'm sorry if----"
+
+"Don't be sorry," said John Dene patiently; "you're just doing your job
+as best you can."
+
+Whilst John Dene was being led by Mr. Blair to the First Lord's private
+room, Sir Lyster was re-reading the astonishing note that had been sent
+in to him, which ran:
+
+"DEAR SIR,--
+
+"I am John Dene of Toronto, I have come three thousand miles to tell
+you how to stop the German U-boats.  If I do not succeed, you can give
+the enclosed L50,000 to the Red Cross.
+
+"Yours faithfully,
+  "JOHN DENE."
+
+
+Sir Lyster Grayne was a man for whom tradition had its uses; but he
+never allowed it to dictate to him.  The letter that had just been
+brought in was, he decided, written by a man of strong individuality,
+and the amazing offer it contained, to forfeit fifty thousand pounds,
+impressed him.  These were strange and strenuous days, when every
+suggestion or invention must be examined and deliberated upon.  Sir
+Lyster Grayne prided himself upon his open-mindedness; incidentally he
+had a wholesome fear of questions being asked in the House.
+
+As the door opened he rose and held out his hand.  Sir Lyster always
+assumed a democratic air as a matter of political expediency.
+
+"Mr. Dene," he murmured, as he motioned his visitor to a seat.
+
+"Pleased to meet you," said John Dene as he shook hands, and then took
+the seat indicated.  "Sorry to blow in on you like this," he continued,
+"but my business is important, and I've come three thousand miles about
+it."
+
+"So I understand," said Sir Lyster quietly.
+
+John Dene looked at him, and in that look summed him up as he had
+previously summed up his secretary.  "You wouldn't do for T'ronto," was
+his unuttered verdict.  John Dene "placed" a man irrevocably by
+determining whether or no he would do for Toronto.
+
+"First of all," said Sir Lyster, "I think I will return this," handing
+to John Dene the envelope containing the cheque for fifty thousand
+pounds.
+
+"I thought it would tickle you some," he remarked grimly as he replaced
+the cheque in his pocket-book; "but I'll cash in if I don't make good,"
+he added.  "You know anything about submarines?" he demanded;
+directness was John Dene's outstanding characteristic.
+
+"Er----" began the First Lord.
+
+"You don't," announced John Dene with conviction.
+
+"I'm afraid----" began Sir Lyster.
+
+"Then you'd better send for someone who does," was the uncompromising
+rejoinder.
+
+Sir Lyster looked at his visitor in surprise, hesitated a moment, then
+pressing a button said, as Mr. Blair appeared:
+
+"Will you ask Admiral Heyworth to come here immediately?" Mr. Blair
+retired.  "Admiral Heyworth," explained Sir Lyster, "is the Admiralty
+authority on submarines."
+
+John Dene nodded.  There was a pause.
+
+"Wouldn't you like to ring up the Agent-General for Can'da and find out
+who I am?" suggested John Dene.
+
+"I don't think that is necessary, Mr. Dene," was the reply.  "We will
+hear what you have to say first.  Ha, Heyworth!" as the Admiral
+entered, "this is Mr. John Dene of Toronto, who has come to tell us
+something about a discovery of his."
+
+Admiral Heyworth, a little bald-headed man with beetling brows and a
+humorous mouth, took the hand held out to him.
+
+"Pleased to meet you," said John Dene, then without a pause he
+continued: "I want your promise that this is all between us three, that
+you won't go and breeze it about."  He looked from Sir Lyster to
+Admiral Heyworth.  Sir Lyster bowed, Admiral Heyworth said, "Certainly."
+
+"Now," said John Dene, turning to the Admiral, "what's the greatest
+difficulty you're up against in submarine warfare?"
+
+"Well," began Admiral Heyworth, "there are several.  For instance----"
+
+"There's only one that matters," broke in John Dene; "your boats are
+blind when submerged beyond the depth of their periscopes.  That so?"
+
+The Admiral nodded.
+
+"Well," continued John Dene, "I want you to understand I'm not asking a
+red cent from anybody, and I won't accept one.  What I'm going to tell
+you about has already cost me well over a million dollars, and if you
+look at me you'll see I'm not the man to put a million dollars into
+patent fly-catchers, or boots guaranteed to button themselves."
+
+Sir Lyster and the Admiral exchanged puzzled glances, but said nothing.
+
+"Suppose the Germans were able to sink a ship without even showing
+their periscopes?"  John Dene looked directly at the Admiral.
+
+"It would place us in a very precarious position," was the grave reply.
+
+"Oh, shucks!" cried John Dene in disgust.  "It would queer the whole
+outfit.  You soldiers and sailors can never see beyond your own
+particular backyards.  It would mighty soon finish the war."  He almost
+shouted the words in the emphasis he gave them.  "It would mean that
+troops couldn't be brought from America; it would mean that supplies
+couldn't be brought over here.  It would mean good-bye to the whole
+sunflower-patch.  Do you get me?"  He looked from Sir Lyster to the
+Admiral.
+
+"I think," said Sir Lyster, "that perhaps you exaggerate a lit----"
+
+"I don't," said John Dene.  "I know what I'm talking about.  Now, why
+is the submarine blind?  Because," he answered his own question, "no
+one has ever overcome the difficulty of the density of water.  I have."
+
+Admiral Heyworth started visibly, and Sir Lyster bent forward eagerly.
+
+"You have!" cried Admiral Heyworth.
+
+"Sure," was the self-complacent reply.  "I've got a boat fitted with an
+apparatus that'll sink any ship that comes along, and she needn't show
+her periscope to do it either.  What's more, she can see under water.
+If I don't deliver the goods"--John Dene rummaged in his pocket once
+more and produced the envelope containing the cheque--"here's fifty
+thousand pounds you can give to the Red Cross."
+
+Sir Lyster and Admiral Heyworth gazed at each other wordless.  John
+Dene sat back in his chair and chewed the end of his cigar.  Sir Lyster
+fumbled for his eye-glass, and when he had found it, stuck it in his
+eye and gazed at John Dene as if he had been some marvellous being from
+another world.  The Admiral said nothing and did nothing.  He was
+visualising the possibilities arising out of such a discovery.
+
+It was John Dene who broke in upon their thoughts.
+
+"The Huns have got it coming," he remarked grimly.
+
+"But----" began Admiral Heyworth.
+
+"Listen," said John Dene.  "I'm an electrical engineer.  I'm worth more
+millions than you've got toes.  I saw that under water the submarine is
+only a blind fish with a sting in its tail.  Give it eyes and it
+becomes a real factor--_under water_."  He paused, revolving his cigar
+in his mouth.  His listeners nodded eagerly.
+
+"Well," he continued, "I set to work to give her eyes.  On the St.
+Lawrence River, just below Quebec, I've got a submarine that can see.
+Her search-lights----"
+
+"But how have you done it?" broke in the Admiral.
+
+"That," remarked John Dene drily, "is my funeral."
+
+"We must put this before the Inventions Board," said Sir Lyster.  "Let
+me see, this is Friday.  Can you be here on Tuesday, Mr. Dene?"
+
+"No!"
+
+Sir Lyster started at the decision in John Dene's tone.
+
+"Would Wednesday----"
+
+"Look here," broke in John Dene, "I come from T'ronto, and in Can'da
+when we've got a good thing we freeze on to it.  You've got to decide
+this thing within twenty-four hours, yes or no.  Unless I cable to my
+agent in Washin'ton by noon to-morrow, he'll make the same offer I've
+made you to the States, and they'll be that eager to say 'Yep,' that
+they'll swallow their gum."
+
+"But, Mr. Dene----" began Sir Lyster.
+
+"I've been in this country fourteen hours," proceeded John Dene calmly,
+"and I can see that you all want gingering-up.  Why the hell can't you
+decide on a thing at once, when you've got everything before you?  If a
+man offers you a pedigree-pup for nothing, and you want a pedigree-pup,
+wouldn't you just hold out your hand?"
+
+John Dene looked from one to the other.
+
+"But this is not exactly a matter of a pedigree-pup," suggested Admiral
+Heyworth diplomatically.  "It's a matter of--er----"
+
+"I see you haven't got me," said John Dene with the air of a patient
+schoolmaster with a stupid pupil.  "You," he addressed himself in
+particular to Sir Lyster, "have said in public that the most difficult
+spot in connexion with the submarine trouble is between the Shetlands
+and the Norwegian coast.  You can't help the U-boats slipping through
+submerged.  Suppose the _Destroyer_--that's the name of my boat--is
+sort of hanging around there, _with eyes_ and some other little things
+she's got, what then?"
+
+"Both Sir Lyster and I appreciate all you say," said the Admiral; "but,
+well, we are a little old fashioned perhaps in our methods here."  He
+smiled deprecatingly.
+
+"Well," said John Dene, rising, "you lose the odd trick, that's all;
+and," he added significantly as he took a step towards the door, "when
+it all comes out, you'll lose your jobs too."
+
+"Really, Mr. Dene," protested Sir Lyster, flushing slightly.
+
+John Dene swung round on his heel.  "If you'd spent three years of your
+life and over a million dollars on a boat, and come three thousand
+miles to offer it to someone for nothing, and were told to wait till
+God knows which day what week, well, you'd be rattled too.  In T'ronto
+we size up a man before he's had time to say he's pleased to meet us,
+and we'd buy a mountain quicker than you'd ask your neighbour to pass
+the marmalade at breakfast."
+
+Whilst John Dene was speaking, Sir Lyster had been revolving the matter
+swiftly in his mind.  He was impressed by his visitor's fearlessness.
+A self-made man himself, he admired independence and freedom of speech
+in others.  He was not oblivious to the truth of John Dene's hint of
+what would happen if another nation, even an allied nation, were to
+acquire a valuable invention that had been declined by Great Britain.
+He remembered the Fokker scandal.  He decided to temporise.
+
+"If," continued John Dene, "I was asking for money, I'd understand; but
+I won't take a red cent, and more than that I go bail to the tune of a
+quarter of a million dollars that I deliver the goods."
+
+He strode up and down the room, twirling his cigar, and flinging his
+short, sharp sentences at the two men, who, to his mind, stood as
+barriers to an Allied triumph.
+
+"If you will sit down, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster suavely, "I'll
+explain."
+
+John Dene hesitated for a moment, then humped himself into a chair,
+gazing moodily before him.
+
+"We quite appreciate your--er--patriotism and public-spiritedness
+in----"
+
+"Here, cut it out," broke in John Dene.  "Do you want the _Destroyer_
+or don't you?"
+
+Sir Lyster recoiled as if he had been struck.  He had been First Lord
+too short a time for the gilt to be worn off his dignity.  Seeing his
+Chief about to reply in a way that he suspected might end the
+interview, Admiral Heyworth interposed.
+
+"May I suggest that under the circumstances we consult Mr. Llewellyn
+John?"
+
+"That's bully," broke in John Dene without giving Sir Lyster a chance
+of replying.  "They say he's got pep."
+
+Bowing to the inevitable, Sir Lyster picked up the telephone-receiver.
+
+"Get me through to the Prime Minister," he said.
+
+The three men waited in silence for the response.  As the bell rang,
+Sir Lyster swiftly raised the receiver to his ear.
+
+"Yes, the Prime Minister.  Sir Lyster Grayne speaking."  There was a
+pause.  "Grayne speaking, yes.  Can I come round with Admiral Heyworth
+and an--er--inventor?  It's very important."  He listened for a moment,
+then added, "Yes, we'll come at once."
+
+"Now, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster, as he rose and picked up his hat, "I
+hope we shall be able to--er----"  He did not finish the sentence; but
+led the way to the door.
+
+The three men walked across the Horse Guards Quadrangle towards Downing
+Street.  The only words uttered were when Sir Lyster asked John Dene if
+he had seen the pelicans.
+
+John Dene looked at him in amazement.  He had heard that in British
+official circles it was considered bad taste to discuss the war except
+officially, and he decided that he was now discovering what was really
+the matter with the British Empire.
+
+As the trio crossed the road to mount the steps leading to Downing
+Street, the girl passed of whom John Dene had asked the way.  Her eyes
+widened slightly as she recognised John Dene's two companions; they
+widened still more when John Dene lifted his hat, followed a second
+later by Sir Lyster, whilst Admiral Heyworth saluted.  In her surprise
+she nearly ran into a little shifty-eyed man, in a grey suit, who, with
+an elaborate flourish of his hat, hastened to apologise for her
+carelessness.
+
+"That's the girl who showed me the way to your back-door," John Dene
+announced nonchalantly.  Sir Lyster exchanged a rapid glance with the
+Admiral.  "If I was running this show," continued John Dene, "I'd get
+that door enlarged a bit and splash some paint about;" and for the
+first time since they had met John Dene smiled up at Sir Lyster, a
+smile that entirely changed the sombre cast of his features.
+
+On arriving at no, Downing Street, the three callers were conducted
+straight into Mr. Llewellyn John's room.  As they entered, he rose
+quickly from his table littered with papers, and with a smile greeted
+his colleagues.  Sir Lyster then introduced John Dene.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John grasped John Dene's hand, and turned on him that
+bewilderingly sunny smile which Mr. Chappeldale had once said ought in
+itself to win the war.
+
+"Sit down, Mr. Dene," said Mr. Llewellyn John, indicating a chair;
+"it's always a pleasure to meet any one from Canada.  What should we
+have done without you Canadians?" he murmured half to himself.
+
+"Mr. Dene tells us that he has solved the submarine problem," said Sir
+Lyster, as he and Admiral Heyworth seated themselves.
+
+Instantly Mr. Llewellyn John became alert.  The social smile vanished
+from his features, giving place to the look of a keen-witted Celt,
+eager to pounce upon something that would further his schemes.  He
+turned to John Dene interrogatingly.
+
+"Perhaps Mr. Dene will explain," suggested Sir Lyster.
+
+"Sure," said John Dene, "your submarine isn't a submarine at all, it's
+a submersible.  Under water it's useless, because it can't see.  As
+well call a seal a fish.  A submarine must be able to fight under
+water, and until it can it won't be any more a submarine than I'm a
+tunny fish."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John nodded in eager acquiescence.
+
+"I've spent over a million dollars, and now I've got a boat that can
+see under water and fight under water and do a lot of other fancy
+tricks."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John sprang to his feet.
+
+"You have.  Tell me, where is it?  This is wonderful, wonderful!  It
+takes us a year forward."
+
+"It's on the St. Lawrence River, just below Quebec," explained John
+Dene.
+
+"And how long will it take to construct say a hundred?" asked Mr.
+Llewellyn John eagerly, dropping back into his chair.
+
+"Longer than any of us are going to live," replied John Dene grimly.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John looked at his visitor in surprise.  Sir Lyster and
+the Admiral exchanged meaning glances.  The Prime Minister was
+experiencing what in Toronto were known as "John's snags."
+
+"But if you've made one----" began Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"There's only going to be one," announced John Dene grimly.
+
+"But----"
+
+"You can but like a he-goat," announced John Dene, "still there'll be
+only our _Destroyer_."
+
+Sir Lyster smiled inwardly.  His bruised dignity was recovering at the
+sight of the surprised look on the face of the Prime Minister at John
+Dene's comparison.
+
+"Perhaps Mr. Dene will explain to us the difficulties," insinuated Sir
+Lyster.
+
+"Sure," said John Dene; then turning to Admiral Heyworth, "What would
+happen if Germany got a submarine that could see and do fancy stunts?"
+he demanded.
+
+"It might embarrass----" began the Admiral.
+
+"Shucks!" cried John Dene, "it would bust us up.  What about the
+American transports, food-ships, munitions and the rest of it.  They'd
+be attacked all along the three thousand miles route, and would go down
+like neck-oil on a permit night.  You get me?"
+
+Suddenly Mr. Llewellyn John struck the table with his fist.
+
+"You're right, Mr. Dene," he cried; "they might capture one and copy
+it.  You remember the Gothas," he added, turning to Sir Lyster.
+
+"Sure," was John Dene's laconic reply.
+
+"But how can we be sure they will not capture the _Destroyer_?"
+enquired Sir Lyster.
+
+"Because there'll be John Dene and a hundred-weight of high-explosive
+on board," said John Dene drily as he chewed at the end of his cigar.
+
+"Then you propose----" began Admiral Heyworth.
+
+"I'll put you wise.  This is my offer.  I'm willing to send U-boats to
+merry hell; but only on my own terms.  I won't take a cent for my boat
+or anything else.  It's my funeral.  The _Destroyer_ is now in Canada,
+with German spies buzzing around like flies over a dead rat.  If you
+agree, I'll cable to my boys to bring the _Destroyer_, and it won't be
+done without some fancy shooting, I take it!  You," turning to Admiral
+Heyworth, "will appoint an officer, two if you like, to come aboard and
+count the bag.  I'll supply the crew, and you'll give me a commander's
+commission in the Navy.  Now, is it a deal?"
+
+"But----" began Sir Lyster.
+
+"You make me tired," said John Dene wearily.  "Is it or is it not a
+deal?" he enquired of Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+With an effort the Prime Minister seemed to gather himself together.
+He found the pace a little breathless, even for him.
+
+"I think it might be arranged, Grayne," he said tactfully.  "Mr. Dene
+knows his own invention and we might enrol his crew in the Navy; what
+do you think?"  Mr. Llewellyn John abounded in tact.
+
+"I take it that you understand navigation, Mr. Dene?" ventured the
+Admiral.
+
+"Sure," was the reply.  "You come a trip with me, and I'll show you
+navigation that'll make your hair stand on end.  Sorry," he added a
+moment after, observing that Admiral Heyworth was almost aggressively
+bald.
+
+"That's all right," laughed the Admiral; "they call me the coot."
+
+"Well, is it a deal?" demanded John Dene, rising.
+
+"It is," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "and a splendid deal for the British
+Empire, Mr. Dene," he added, holding out his hand.  "It's a great
+privilege to meet a patriot such as you.  Sir Lyster and Admiral
+Heyworth will settle all details to your entire satisfaction."
+
+"If they do for me, I want you to give the command to Blake, then to
+Quinton, and so on, only to my own boys; is that agreed?"
+
+"Do for you?" queried Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"Huns, they're after me every hour of the day.  There was a little chap
+even in your own building."
+
+"We really must intern these Germans----" began Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"You're barking up the wrong tree, over here," said John Dene with
+conviction.  "You think a German spy's got a square head and says 'Ach
+himmel' and 'Ja wohl' on street-cars.  It's the neutrals mostly, and
+sometimes the British," he added under his breath.
+
+"In any case you will, I am sure, find that Sir Lyster will do whatever
+you want," said Mr. Llewellyn John as they walked towards the door.
+
+For the second time that morning John Dene smiled as he left No. 110,
+Downing Street, with Sir Lyster and Admiral Heyworth, whilst Mr.
+Llewellyn John rang up the chief of Department Z.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+JOHN DENE'S WAY
+
+As Sir Lyster entered Mr. Blair's room, accompanied by John Dene and
+Admiral Heyworth, he was informed that Sir Bridgman North, the First
+Sea Lord, was anxious to see him.
+
+"Ask him if he can step over now, Blair," said Sir Lyster, and the
+three men passed into the First Lord's room.  Two minutes later Sir
+Bridgman North entered, and Sir Lyster introduced John Dene.
+
+For a moment the two men eyed one another in mutual appraisement; the
+big, bluff Sea Lord, with his humorous blue eyes and ready laugh, and
+the keen, heavy-featured Canadian, as suspicious of a gold band as of a
+pickpocket.
+
+"Pleased to meet you," said John Dene perfunctorily, as they shook
+hands.  "Now you'd better give me a chance to work off my music;" and
+with that he seated himself.
+
+Sir Bridgman exchanged an amused glance with Admiral Heyworth, as they
+too found chairs.
+
+In a few words Sir Lyster explained the reason of John Dene's visit.
+Sir Bridgman listened with the keen interest of one to whom his
+profession is everything.
+
+"Now, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster when he had finished, "perhaps you
+will continue."
+
+In short, jerky sentences John Dene outlined his scheme of operations,
+the others listening intently.  From time to time Sir Bridgman or
+Admiral Heyworth would interpolate a question upon some technical
+point, which was promptly and satisfactorily answered.  John Dene
+seemed to have forgotten nothing.
+
+For two hours the four sat discussing plans for a campaign that was
+once and for all to put an end to Germany's submarine hopes.
+
+During those two hours the three Englishmen learned something of the
+man with whom they had to deal.  Sir Bridgman's tact, cheery
+personality and understanding of how to handle men did much to improve
+the atmosphere, and gradually John Dene's irritation disappeared.
+
+It was nearly three o'clock before all the arrangements were completed.
+John Dene was to receive a temporary commission as commander as soon as
+the King's signature could be obtained.  The _Destroyer_ was entered on
+the Navy List as H4, thus taking the place of a submarine that was
+"missing."  John Dene had stipulated that she should be rated in some
+existing class, so that the secret of her existence might be preserved.
+In short, sharp sentences he had presented his demands, they were
+nothing less, and the others had acquiesced.  By now they were all
+convinced that he was right, and that the greatest chance of success
+lay in "giving him his head," as Sir Bridgman North expressed it in a
+whisper to Sir Lyster.
+
+A base was to be selected on some island in the North of Scotland, and
+fitted with wireless with aerials a hundred and fifty feet high, "to
+pick up all that's going," explained John Dene, conscious of the
+surprise of his hearers at a request for such a long-range plant.  Here
+the _Destroyer_ was to be based, and stores and fuel sufficient for six
+months accumulated.  This was to be proceeded with at once.
+
+"I shall want charts of the minefields," he said, "and full particulars
+as to patrol flotillas and the like."
+
+Admiral Heyworth nodded comprehendingly.
+
+"By the way," he said, "there's one thing I do not quite understand."
+
+"Put a name to it," said John Dene tersely.
+
+"How do you propose to keep at sea for any length of time without
+recharging your batteries?"
+
+"We shall be lying doggo most of the time," was the reply.
+
+"Then in all probability the U-boats will pass over you."
+
+"We shan't be lying at the bottom of the sea, either," said John Dene.
+
+"What!" exclaimed Admiral Heyworth, "but if your motor's cut off,
+you'll sink to the bed of the sea--the law of gravity."
+
+"The _Destroyer_ is fitted with buoyancy chambers, and she can generate
+a gas that will hold her suspended at any depth," he explained.  "This
+gas can be liquefied in a few seconds.  Her microphone will tell her
+when the U-boats are about; it's my own invention."
+
+Sir Lyster looked from one to the other, unable to grasp such
+technicalities; but conscious that Admiral Heyworth seemed surprised at
+what he heard.
+
+"It's up to you to see that none of your boys start dropping
+depth-charges around," said John Dene.
+
+He went on to explain that he proposed a certain restricted area for
+operations, and that the Admiralty should issue instructions that no
+depth charges were to be dropped on any submarine within that area
+until further notice.
+
+"There's one thing I must leave you to supply," said John Dene, as he
+leaned back in his chair smoking a cigar.  John Dene chewed the end of
+a cigar during the period of negotiations, and smoked it when the deal
+was struck.
+
+"And what is that?" asked Sir Bridgman.
+
+"I shall want a 'mother'----"
+
+"A mother!" ejaculated Sir Lyster, looking from John Dene to the First
+Sea Lord, who laughed loudly.  Sir Lyster always felt that Sir Bridgman
+should have left his laugh on the quarter-deck when he relinquished
+active command.
+
+"A 'mother,'" he explained, "is a kangaroo-ship, a dry-dock ship for
+salvage and repair of submarines.  Yes, we'll fit you out."
+
+Sir Lyster looked chagrined.  He had found some difficulty in mastering
+naval technicalities.  When war broke out he was directing a large dock
+from which vast numbers of troops were shipped to France.  He had shown
+such administrative genius, that Mr. Llewellyn John had selected him
+for the post of First Lord of the Admiralty, with results that
+satisfied every one, even the Sea Lords.
+
+John Dene then proceeded to indicate the nature of the alterations he
+would require made in the vessel, showing a remarkable knowledge of the
+British type of mother-ship.
+
+"You ought either to be shot as a spy or made First Sea Lord," said Sir
+Bridgman, looking up from a diagram that John Dene had produced.
+
+"The Hun'll try to do the shooting; and as for my becoming Sea Lord, I
+should be sorry for some of the plugs here."
+
+John Dene's thoroughness impressed his three hearers.  Everything had
+been foreseen, even the spot where the _Destroyer_ was to be based.
+The small island of Auchinlech possessed a natural harbour of
+sufficient size for the mother-ship to enter, after which the entrance
+was to be guarded by a defensive boom as a safeguard against U-boats.
+
+John Dene explained that a month or five weeks must elapse before the
+_Destroyer_ would be ready for action.  In about three weeks she could
+be at Auchinlech, crossing the Atlantic under her own power.  Another
+week or ten days would be required for refitting and taking in stores.
+
+"When you've delivered the goods you can quit, and I shall be pleased
+to see your boys again in four months."
+
+John Dene regarded his listeners with the air of a man who had just
+thrown a bombshell and is conscious of the fact.
+
+"Four months!" ejaculated Sir Lyster.
+
+"Yep!"  He uttered the monosyllable in a tone that convinced at least
+one of his listeners that expostulation would be useless.
+
+"But," protested Sir Lyster, "how shall we know what is happening?"
+
+"You won't," was the laconic reply.
+
+"But----" began Sir Lyster again.
+
+"If no one knows what is happening," interrupted John Dene, "no one can
+tell anyone else."
+
+"Surely, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster with some asperity in his voice,
+"you do not suspect the War Cabinet, for instance, of divulging secrets
+of national importance."
+
+"I don't suspect the War Cabinet of anything," was the dry retort, "not
+even of trying to win the war."  John Dene looked straight into Sir
+Lyster's eyes.
+
+There was an awkward pause.
+
+"Who's going to guarantee that the War Cabinet doesn't talk in its
+sleep?" he continued.  "I'm not out to take risks.  If this country
+doesn't want my boat on my terms, then I shan't worry, although you
+may," he added as an afterthought.  "No, sir," he banged his fist on
+the table vehemently.  "This is the biggest thing that's come into the
+war so far, and I'm not going to have anyone monkeying about with my
+plans.  I'm going to have a written document that I've got a free hand,
+otherwise I don't deal, that's understood."
+
+"But----" began Sir Lyster once more.
+
+"Excuse me, Grayne," broke in Sir Bridgman, "may I suggest that, as we
+are all keenly interested parties, Mr. Dene might give us his reasons."
+
+"Sure," said John Dene without waiting for Sir Lyster's reply.  "In
+Can'da a man gets a job because he's the man for that job, leastwise if
+he's not he's fired.  Here I'll auction that half the big jobs are held
+by mutts whose granddad's had a pleasant way of saying how d'ye do to a
+prince.  If any of them came around you'd have me skippin' like a
+scalded cat, and when I'm like that I'm liable to say things.  I'm my
+own man and my own boss, and I take a man's size in most things.  I'm
+too old to feel meek at the sight of gold bands.  I want to feel kind
+to everybody, and I find I can do that in this country better when
+everybody keeps out of my way."
+
+John Dene paused, and the others looked at each other, a little
+nonplussed how to respond to such directness.
+
+"It's been in my head-fillin' quite a while to tell you this;" and John
+Dene suddenly smiled, one of those rare smiles that seemed to take the
+sting out of his words.  "I'd be real sorry to hurt anybody's
+feelings," he added, "but we've got different notions of things in
+Can'da."
+
+It was Sir Bridgman who eased the situation.
+
+"If ever you want a second in command, I'm your man," he laughed.
+"Straight talk makes men friends, and if we do wrap things up a bit
+more here, we aren't so thin-skinned as not to be able to take it from
+the shoulder.  What say you, Grayne?"
+
+"Yes--certainly," said Sir Lyster with unconvincing hesitation.
+
+"You were mentioning spies," said Admiral Heyworth.
+
+"So would you if they'd plagued you as they've plagued me," said John
+Dene.  "They've already stolen three sets of plans."
+
+"Three sets of plans!" cried Sir Lyster, starting up in alarm.
+
+John Dene nodded as he proceeded to relight the stump of his cigar.
+"One set in T'ronto, one on the steamer and the other from my room at
+the Ritzton."
+
+"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Sir Lyster in alarm, "what is to be done?"
+
+"Oh!  I've got another three sets," said John Dene calmly.
+
+Sir Lyster looked at him as if doubtful of his sanity.
+
+"Don't you worry," said John Dene imperturbably, "one set of plans was
+of the U1, the first boat the Germans built, the second set was of the
+U2, and the third of the U9."
+
+Sir Bridgman's laugh rang out as he thumped the table with his fist.
+
+"Splendid!" he cried.  Sir Lyster sank back into his chair with a sigh
+of relief.
+
+"By the way, Dene," said Sir Bridgman casually, "suppose the
+_Destroyer_ was--er--lost and you with her."
+
+"I've arranged for a set of plans to be delivered to the First Lord,
+whoever he may be at the time," said John Dene.
+
+"Good!" said Sir Bridgman.  "You think of everything.  We shall have
+you commanding the Grand Fleet before the war's over."'
+
+Sir Lyster said nothing.  He did not quite relish the qualification
+"whoever he may be at the time."
+
+"About the spies," he said after a pause.  "I think it would be
+advisable to arrange for your protection."
+
+"Not on your life!" cried John Dene with energy.  "I don't want any
+policemen following me around.  I've got my own--well," he added, "I've
+fixed things up all right, and if the worst comes to the worst, well
+there aren't many men in this country that can beat John Dene with a
+gun.  Now it's up to me to make good on this proposition."  He looked
+from one to the other, as if challenging contradiction.  Finding there
+was none, he continued: "But there are a few things that I want before
+I can start in, and then you won't see me for dust.  You get me?"  He
+looked suddenly at Sir Lyster.
+
+"We'll do everything in our power to help you, Mr. Dene," said Sir
+Lyster, reaching for a clean sheet of paper from the rack before him.
+
+"Well, I've got it all figured out here," said John Dene, taking a
+paper from his jacket pocket.  "First I want a written undertaking,
+signed by you," turning to Sir Lyster, "and Mr. Llewellyn John that I'm
+to have four months to run the _Destroyer_ with no one butting in."
+
+Sir Lyster nodded and made a note.
+
+"Next," continued John Dene, "I want a mothership fully equipped with
+stores and fuel sufficient for four months."
+
+Again Sir Lyster inclined his head and made a note.
+
+"I'll give you a schedule of everything I'm likely to want.  Then I
+want an undertaking that if anything happens to me the command goes to
+Blake and then to Quinton.  If I don't get these things," he announced
+with decision, "I'll call a halt right here."
+
+"I think you can depend upon Sir Lyster doing all you want, Mr. Dene,"
+said Sir Bridgman; "and when you see the way he does it, perhaps you'll
+have a better opinion of the Admiralty."
+
+Sir Lyster smiled slightly.  He had already determined to show John
+Dene that nowhere in the world was there an organisation equal to that
+of the Admiralty Victualling and Stores Departments.
+
+"You help John Dene and he's with you till the cows come to roost," was
+the response; "and now," he added shrewdly, "you'd better get the
+cables to work and find out something about me."
+
+"Something about you!" queried Sir Lyster.
+
+"You're not going to trust a man because he talks big, I'll gamble on
+that.  Well, you'll learn a deal about John Dene, and now it's time you
+got a rustle on."
+
+"In all probability our Intelligence Department knows all about you by
+now, Mr. Dene," said Sir Bridgman with a laugh.  "It's supposed to be
+fairly up to date in most things."
+
+"Well," said John Dene, as he leaned back in his chair, puffing
+vigorously at his cigar, "you've treated me better'n I expected, and
+you won't regret it.  Remembering's my long suit.  I don't want any
+honour or glory out of this stunt, I just want to get the job done.  If
+there are any garters, or collars going around, you may have 'em,
+personally I don't wear 'em,--garters, I mean.  A couple of
+rubber-bands are good enough for me."
+
+Sir Bridgman laughed, Sir Lyster smiled indulgently, and Admiral
+Heyworth rose to go.
+
+"There's only one thing more; I want a room here and someone to take
+down letters."
+
+"I will tell my secretary to arrange everything," said Sir Lyster.
+"You have only to ask for what you require, Mr. Dene."
+
+"Well, that's settled," said John Dene, rising.  "Now it's up to me,
+and if the _Destroyer_ doesn't give those Huns merry hell, then I'm
+green goods;" and with this enigmatical utterance he abruptly left the
+room, with a nod, and a "See you all in the morning."
+
+As the door closed, the three men gazed at each other for a few seconds.
+
+"An original character," said Sir Lyster indulgently.  "Going,
+Heyworth?" he enquired, as Admiral Heyworth moved towards the door.
+
+"Yes, I've hardly touched the day's work yet," was the reply.
+
+"Never mind," said Sir Bridgman, "you've done the best day's work
+you're likely to do during this war."
+
+"I think I agree with you," said Admiral Heyworth as he left the room.
+
+"Well, Grayne, what do you think of our friend, John Dene?" inquired
+Sir Bridgman as he lighted a cigarette.
+
+"He's rather abrupt," said Sir Lyster hesitatingly, "but I think he's a
+sterling character."
+
+"You're right," said Sir Bridgman heartily.  "I wish we had a dozen
+John Denes in the Service.  When the colonies do produce a man they do
+the thing in style, and Canada has made no mistake about John Dene.
+He's going nearer to win the war than any other man in the Empire."
+
+"Ah! your incurable enthusiasm," smiled Sir Lyster.
+
+"What I like about him," remarked Sir Bridgman, "is that he never waits
+to be contradicted."
+
+"He certainly does seem to take everything for granted," said Sir
+Lyster, with a note of complaint in his voice.
+
+"The man who has all the cards generally does," said Sir Bridgman
+drily.  "Dene will always get there, because he has no axe to grind,
+and the only thing he respects is brains.  That is why he snubs us all
+so unmercifully," he added with the laugh that always made Sir Lyster
+wish he wouldn't.
+
+"Now I want to consult you about a rather embarrassing question that's
+on the paper for Friday," said Sir Lyster.
+
+Unconscious that he was forming the subject of discussion with the
+heads of the Admiralty, John Dene, on leaving the First Lord's room,
+turned to the right and walked quickly in the direction of the main
+staircase.  As he reached a point where the corridor was intersected by
+another running at right angles, the sudden opening of a door on his
+left caused him to turn his head quickly.  A moment later there was a
+feminine cry and a sound of broken crockery, and John Dene found
+himself gazing down at a broken teapot.
+
+"Oh!"
+
+He looked up from the steaming ruin of newly brewed tea into the violet
+eyes of the girl who had directed him to the Admiralty.  He noticed the
+purity of her skin, the redness of her lips and the rebelliousness of
+her corn-coloured hair, which seeming to refuse all constraint clung
+about her head in little wanton tendrils.
+
+"That's my fault," said John Dene, removing his hat.  "I'm sorry."
+
+"Yes; but our tea," said the girl in genuine consternation; "we're
+rationed, you know."
+
+"Rationed?" said John Dene.
+
+"Yes; we only get two ounces a week each," she said with a comical look
+of despair.
+
+"Gee!" cried John Dene, then he asked suddenly: "What are you?"
+
+The girl looked at him in surprise, a little stiffly.
+
+"Can you type?  Never mind about the tea."
+
+"But I do mind about the tea."  She found John Dene's manner disarming.
+
+"I take it you're a stenographer.  Now tell me your name.  I'll see
+about the tea."  He had whipped out a note-book and pencil.  "Hurry,
+I've got a cable to send."
+
+Seeing that she was reluctant to give her name, he continued: "Never
+mind about your name.  Be in the First Lord's room to-morrow at eleven
+o'clock; I'll see you there;" and with that he turned quickly, resumed
+his hat and retraced his steps.
+
+Without knocking, he pushed open the door of Mr. Blair's room, walked
+swiftly across and opened the door leading to that of the First Lord.
+
+"Here!" he cried, "where can I buy a pound of tea?"
+
+If John Dene had asked where he could borrow an ichthyosaurus, Sir
+Lyster and Sir Bridgman could not have gazed at him with more
+astonishment.
+
+"You can't," said Sir Bridgman, at length, his eyes twinkling as he
+watched the expression on Sir Lyster's face.
+
+"Can't!" cried John Dene.
+
+"Tea's rationed--two ounces a week," explained Sir Bridgman.
+
+"Anyhow I've got to buy a pound of tea.  I've just smashed up the
+teapot of a girl in the corridor."
+
+"I'm afraid it's impossible," said Sir Lyster with quiet dignity.
+
+"Impossible!" said John Dene irritably.  "Here am I giving more'n a
+million dollars to the country and I can't get a pound of tea.  I'll
+see about that.  She'll be here in this room to-morrow at eleven
+o'clock," and with that the door closed and John Dene disappeared.
+
+"I've told a girl to be here at eleven o'clock to-morrow.  She's going
+to be my secretary," he explained to Mr. Blair as he passed through his
+office.
+
+Mr. Blair blinked his eyes vigorously.  He had seen Sir Lyster and
+Admiral Heyworth leave the Admiralty with John Dene, he gathered that
+they had had a long interview with the Prime Minister, then they had
+returned again and, for two hours, had sat in consultation with the
+First Sea Lord.  Now the amazing John Dene had made an appointment to
+meet some girl in the First Lord's room at eleven o'clock the next
+morning.
+
+As John Dene left the Admiralty puffing clouds of blue content from his
+cigar, the shifty-eyed man, in a grey suit, who had been examining the
+Royal Marines statue, drew a white handkerchief with a flourish from
+his pocket and proceeded to blow his nose vigorously.  The act seemed
+to pass unnoticed save by a young girl sitting on a neighbouring seat.
+She immediately appeared to become greatly interested in the movements
+of John Dene, whilst the man in the grey suit walked away in the
+direction of Birdcage Walk.
+
+
+"Where's the tea?" was the cry with which Dorothy West was greeted as
+she entered the room she occupied with a number of other girls after
+her encounter with John Dene.
+
+"It's in the corridor," she replied.
+
+"Oh! go and get it, there's a dear; I'm simply parched," cried Marjorie
+Rogers, a pretty little brunette at the further corner.
+
+"It's all gone," said Dorothy West; "a Hun just knocked it out of my
+hand.  He smashed the teapot."
+
+"Smashed the teapot!" cried several girls in chorus.
+
+"Oh!  Wessie," wailed the little brunette, "I shall die."
+
+"Why did you let him do it?" asked a fair girl with white eyelashes and
+glasses.
+
+"I didn't," said Dorothy; "he just barged into me and knocked the
+teapot out of my hand, and then made an assignation for eleven o'clock
+to-morrow in the First Lord's room."
+
+"An assignation!  The First Lord's room!" cried Miss Cunliffe, who by
+virtue of a flat chest, a pair of round glasses, and an uncompromising
+manner made an ideal supervisor.  She was known as "Old Goggles."
+"What do you mean, Miss West?"
+
+"Exactly what I say, Miss Cunliffe.  He asked me if I was a
+stenographer, and then said that I was to see him at eleven o'clock
+to-morrow morning in the First Lord's room.  What do you think I had
+better do?"
+
+"Who is he?  What is he?  Do tell us, Wessie, dear," cried Marjorie
+Rogers excitedly.
+
+"Well, I should think he's either a madman or else he's bought the
+Admiralty," said Dorothy West, her head on one side as if weighing her
+words before uttering them.  "He's the man I saw this morning with Sir
+Lyster Grayne and Admiral Heyworth, going to call on the Prime
+Minister--at least, I suppose they were; they went up the steps into
+Downing Street.  But ought I to go at eleven o'clock, Miss Cunliffe?"
+she queried.
+
+"I'll make enquiries," said Miss Cunliffe.  "I'll see Mr. Blair.
+Perhaps he's mad."
+
+"But what are we going to do about our tea?" wailed Marjorie.  "I'd
+sooner lose my character than my tea."
+
+"Miss Rogers!" said Miss Cunliffe, whose conception of supervisorship
+was that she should oversee the decorum as well as the work of the
+other occupants of the room.
+
+"I believe she did it on purpose," said she of the white eyelashes
+spitefully to a girl in a velvet blouse.
+
+"You had better brew to-morrow's tea to-day, Miss West," said Miss
+Cunliffe.
+
+"Yes, do, there's a darling," cried Marjorie.  "I simply can't wait
+another five minutes.  Why, I couldn't lick a stamp to save my life.
+Borrow No. 13's pot when they've finished with it, and pinch some of
+their tea, if you can," she added.
+
+And Dorothy West went out to interview the guardian of No. 13's teapot.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+DEPARTMENT Z.
+
+
+I
+
+"Mr. Sage there?  Very well, ask him to step in and see me as soon as
+he returns."
+
+Colonel Walton replaced the telephone-receiver and continued to draw
+diagrams upon the blotting-pad before him, an occupation in which he
+had been engaged for the last quarter of an hour.
+
+Since its creation two years before, he had been Chief of Department
+Z., the most secret section of the British Secret Service, with Malcolm
+Sage as his lieutenant.
+
+Department Z. owed its inception to an inspiration on the part of Mr.
+Llewellyn John.  He had conceived the idea of creating a secret service
+department, the working of which should be secret even from the Secret
+Service itself.  Its primary object was that the Prime Minister and the
+War Cabinet might have a private means of obtaining such special
+information as it required.  Department Z. was unhampered by rules and
+regulations, as devoid of conventions as an enterprising flapper.
+
+In explaining his scheme to Mr. Thaw, the Chancellor of the Exchequer,
+Mr. Llewellyn John had said, "Suppose I want to know what Chappeldale
+had for lunch yesterday, and don't like to ask him, how am I to find
+out?  I want a Department that can tell me anything I want to know, and
+will be surprised at nothing."
+
+With Mr. Llewellyn John to conceive a thing was to put it into
+practice.  He did not make the mistake of placing Department Z. under
+the control of a regular secret service man.
+
+"I'm tired of red-tape and traditions," he had remarked to Mr. Thaw.
+"If I go to the front, they won't let me speak to a man lower than a
+brigadier, whereas I want the point-of-view of the drummer-boy."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John had heard of Colonel Walton's exploits in India as
+head of the Burmah Police, had seen him, and in five minutes the first
+Chief of Department Z. was appointed.  From the Ministry of Supply, Mr.
+Llewellyn John had plucked Malcolm Sage, whom he later described as
+"either a ferret turned dreamer, or a dreamer turned ferret," he was
+not quite sure which.
+
+In discovering Malcolm Sage, Mr. Llewellyn John had achieved one of his
+greatest strokes of good fortune.  When Minister of Supply his notice
+had been attracted to Sage, as the man who had been instrumental in
+bringing to light--that is official light, for the affair was never
+made public--the greatest contracts-scandal of the war.  It was due
+entirely to his initiative and unobtrusive enquiries that a gigantic
+fraud, diabolical in its cleverness, had been discovered--a fraud that
+might have involved the country in the loss of millions.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John had recognised that this young accountant had done
+him a great service, perhaps saved him from a serious political
+set-back.  Incidentally he discovered that Sage was a very uneasy
+person to have in a Government-department.  Sage cared nothing for
+tradition, discipline, or bureaucracy.  If they interfered with the
+proper performance of his duties, overboard they went.  He was the most
+transferred man in Whitehall.  No one seemed to want to keep him for
+longer than the period necessary for the formalities of his transfer.
+
+"Uneasy lies the Head that has a Sage," was a phrase some wag had
+coined.  If a man wanted to condemn another as too zealous,
+unnecessarily hard-working, or as a breaker of idols, he likened him to
+Sage.
+
+The chief of the department from which Mr. Llewellyn John took Malcolm
+Sage when Department Z. was formed is said to have wept tears of joy at
+the news.  For months he had striven to transfer his unconventional
+subordinate; but there was none who would have him.  This unfortunate
+chief of department had gone through life like a man wanting to sell a
+dog of dubious pedigree.  In the Ministry he was known as Henry II, and
+Sage came to be referred to as Beckett.
+
+In Department Z. Sage found his proper niche.  Under Colonel Walton, a
+man of few words and great tact, he had found an ideal chief, one who
+understood how to handle men.
+
+As John Dene had left 110, Downing Street, with Sir Lyster and Admiral
+Heyworth, Mr. Llewellyn John had rung up Colonel Walton and requested
+that full enquiries be made at once as to John Dene of Toronto, and a
+report submitted to him in the morning.  That was all.  He had given no
+indication of why he wanted to know, or what was John Dene's business
+in London.
+
+Hardly a day of his life passed without Mr. Llewellyn John having cause
+to be thankful for the inspiration that had resulted in the founding of
+Department Z.  Nothing seemed to come amiss, either to the Department
+or its officials.  They never required an elaborate filling-up of
+forms, they never asked for further particulars as did other
+departments.  They just got to work.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John had, once and for all, defined Department Z. when he
+said to Mr. Thaw, "If I were to ask Scotland Yard if Chappeldale had
+gone over to the Bolshevists, or if Waytensee had become an Orangeman,
+they would send a man here, his pockets bulging with note-books.
+Department Z. would tell me all I wanted to know in a few hours."
+
+In his first interview with Mr. Llewellyn John, previous to being
+appointed to Department Z., Malcolm Sage had bluntly criticised the
+Government's methods of dealing with the spy peril.
+
+"You're all wrong, sir," he had said.  "If you spot a spy, you arrest,
+imprison or deport him, according to the degree of his guilt.  Any fool
+could do that," he had added quietly.
+
+"And what would you do, Sage?" inquired Mr. Llewellyn John, who never
+took offence at the expression of any man's honest opinion, no matter
+how emphatically worded.
+
+"I should watch him," was the laconic reply.  "Just as was done before
+the war.  You didn't arrest spies then, you just let them think they
+were safe."
+
+For a few moments Mr. Llewellyn John had pondered the remark, and then
+asked for an explanation.
+
+"If you arrest, shoot or intern a spy, another generally springs up in
+his place, and you have to start afresh to find him; he may do a lot of
+mischief before that comes about."  Sage gazed meditatively at his
+finger-nails, a habit of his.  "On the other hand," he continued, "if
+you know your man, you can watch him and generally find out what he's
+after.  Better a known than an unknown danger," he had added oracularly.
+
+"I'm afraid they wouldn't endorse that doctrine at Scotland Yard,"
+smiled Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"Scotland Yard is a place of promoted policemen," replied Sage,
+"regulation intellects in regulation boots."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.  He always appreciated a phrase.  "Then you
+would not arrest a burglar, but watch him," he said, glancing keenly at
+Sage.
+
+"The cases are entirely different, sir," was the reply; "a burglar
+invariably works on his own, a spy is more frequently than not a cog of
+a machine and must be replaced.  He seldom works entirely alone."
+
+"Go on," Mr. Llewellyn John had said, seeing that Sage paused and was
+intently regarding his finger-nails of his right hand.
+
+"Even when burglars work in gangs, there is no superior organisation to
+replace destroyed units," continued Sage.  "With international secret
+service it is different; its casualties are made good as promptly as
+with a field army."
+
+"I believe you're right," said Mr. Llewellyn John.  "If you can
+convince Colonel Walton, then Department Z. can be run on those lines."
+
+Malcolm Sage had found no difficulty in convincing his chief, a man of
+quiet demeanour, but unprejudiced mind.  The result had been that
+Department Z. had not so far caused a single arrest, although it had
+countered many clever schemes.  Its motto was "The Day" when it could
+make a really historical haul.
+
+The progress of Malcolm Sage had been remarkable.  Colonel Walton had
+quickly seen that his subordinate could work only along his own lines,
+and in consequence he had given him his head.  Sage, on his part, had
+discovered in his chief a man with a sound knowledge of human nature,
+generously spiced with the devil.
+
+As Sage entered, Colonel Walton ceased his diagrams and looked up.
+Sage was as unlike the "sleuth hound" of fiction as it is possible for
+a man to be.  At first glance he looked like the superintendent of a
+provincial Sunday-school.  He was about thirty-five years of age,
+sandy, wore gold-rimmed glasses and possessed a conical head,
+prematurely bald.  He had a sharp nose, steel-coloured eyes and large
+ears; but there was the set of his jaw which told of determination.
+
+Seating himself in his customary place, Sage proceeded to pull at the
+inevitable briar, without which he was seldom seen.  For a full minute
+there was silence.  Colonel Walton deliberately lighted a cigar and
+leaned back to listen.  He knew his man and refrained from asking
+questions.
+
+"They're puzzled, chief"--Sage knocked the ashes from his pipe into the
+ash-tray on the table--"and they're getting jumpy," he added.
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.
+
+"Twice they've ransacked John Dene's room at the Ritzton and found
+nothing."
+
+"Does he know?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+Sage nodded.
+
+"John Dene's a dark horse," he remarked with respect in his voice, "and
+the Huns can't make up their minds."
+
+"To what?" enquired the chief.
+
+"To give up the shadow for the substance," he remarked, as he pressed
+down the tobacco in his pipe.  "They want the plans, and they want to
+prevent the boat from putting to sea."
+
+Colonel Walton nodded comprehendingly.
+
+"They'll probably try to scotch her on the way over; but they won't
+know her route.  They'll be lying in wait, however, in full strength in
+home waters.  He's a bad psychologist," added Sage, as he knocked the
+ashes out of his pipe.
+
+"Who?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+"The Hun," replied Sage, as he sucked away contentedly at his pipe.
+"He's never content to go for a single issue, or he'd probably have got
+the Channel ports.  He's not content with concentrating on John Dene
+and his boat, he's after the plans.  That's where he'll fail.  Smart
+chap, John Dene."
+
+For some moments the two men smoked in silence, which was finally
+broken by Sage.
+
+"They'll try to get hold of John Dene, unless he's very careful, and
+hold him to ransom, the price being the plans."
+
+"Incidentally, Sage, where did you get all this from?" enquired Walton.
+
+Sage gazed at his chief through his gold-rimmed spectacles.  "About
+three hundred yards west of the Temple Station on the Underground."
+
+Colonel Walton glanced across at his subordinate; but refrained from
+asking further questions.  "Have you warned Dene?" he enquired instead.
+
+"No use," replied Sage with conviction.  "Might as well warn a fly."
+
+Colonel Walton nodded understandingly.  "Still," he remarked, "I think
+he ought to be told."
+
+"Why not have a try yourself?"  Sage looked up swiftly from the
+inevitable contemplation of his finger-nails.
+
+For fully a minute Colonel Walton sat revolving the proposal in his
+mind.  "I think I will," he said later.
+
+"He'll treat you like a superannuated policeman," was the grim retort.
+
+"The Skipper wants to see us at eleven," said Colonel Walton, looking
+at his watch and rising.  The "Skipper" was the name by which Mr.
+Llewellyn John was known at Department Z.  Names were rarely referred
+to, and very few documents were ever exchanged.  Colonel Walton picked
+up his hat from a bookcase and, followed by Sage, who extracted a cap
+from his pocket, left the room and Department Z. and walked across to
+Downing Street.
+
+As Colonel Walton and Malcolm Sage were shown into Mr. Llewellyn John's
+room, the Prime Minister gave instructions that he was not to be
+disturbed for a quarter of an hour.
+
+"Was the John Dene Report what you wanted, sir?" enquired Colonel
+Walton, as he took the seat Mr. Llewellyn John indicated.
+
+"Excellent," cried Mr. Llewellyn John; then with a smile he added, "I
+was able to tell Sir Lyster quite a lot of things this morning.  The
+Admiralty report was not ready until late last night.  It was not
+nearly so instructive."
+
+The main facts of John Dene's career had not been difficult to obtain.
+His father had emigrated to Canada in the early eighties; but,
+possessing only the qualifications of a clerk, he had achieved neither
+fame nor fortune.  He had died when John Dene was eight years old, and
+his wife had followed him within eighteen months.  After a varied
+career John Dene had drifted to the States, where as a youth he had
+entered a large engineering firm, and was instantly singled out as an
+inventor in embryo.
+
+Several fortunate speculations had formed the foundation of a small
+fortune of twenty thousand dollars, with which he returned to Toronto.
+From that point his career had been one continual progression of
+successes.  Everything he touched seemed to turn to gold, until "John's
+luck" became a well-known phrase in financial circles.
+
+Unlike most successful business-men, he devoted a large portion of his
+time to his hobby, electrical engineering, and when the war broke out
+he sought to turn this to practical and patriotic uses.
+
+"And when may we expect Mr. Dene's new submarine over?" enquired
+Malcolm Sage casually.
+
+"Mr. Dene's new submarine!"  Mr. Llewellyn John's hands dropped to his
+sides as he gazed at Sage in blank amazement.  "His new submarine," he
+repeated.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What on earth do you know about it?" demanded Mr. Llewellyn John,
+looking at Sage with a startled expression.
+
+"John Dene has invented a submarine," proceeded the literal Sage, "with
+some novel features, including a searchlight that has overcome the
+opacity of water.  The thing is lying on the St. Lawrence River just
+below Quebec.  Yesterday he called to see Sir Lyster Grayne, who
+brought him here with Admiral Heyworth."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John gazed in bewilderment at Malcolm Sage, his eyes
+shifted to Colonel Walton and then back again to Sage.
+
+"But," he began, "you're watching us, not the enemy.  Did you know of
+this?" he turned to the chief of Department Z.
+
+Colonel Walton shook his head.  "I haven't seen Sage since you
+telephoned yesterday until a few minutes ago," he said.
+
+"Where--how----?"  Mr. Llewellyn John paused.
+
+"It's our business to know things, sir," was Sage's quiet reply.
+
+"And yet you didn't report this to----" began Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"It saves time telling you both at once," responded Sage, looking at
+his chief with a smile.
+
+"Suppose you tell us how you found out," suggested Mr. Llewellyn John a
+little irritably.
+
+"Does that matter, sir?"  Sage looked up calmly from an earnest
+examination of the nail of his left forefinger.
+
+For some moments Mr. Llewellyn John gazed across at Malcolm Sage,
+frowning heavily.
+
+"Sage has his own methods," remarked Colonel Walton tactfully.
+
+"Methods," cried Mr. Llewellyn John, his brow clearing, "it's a good
+job he didn't live in the Middle Ages, or else he'd have been burned.
+I'm not so sure that he ought not to be burned now."  He turned on Sage
+that smile that never failed in its magical effect.
+
+"There are one or two links missing," said Sage.  "I want to know where
+and when the _Destroyer_ will arrive, and what steps you are taking in
+regard to John Dene."
+
+"All arrangements will be left in Mr. Dene's hands.  He is----"  Mr.
+Lewellyn John paused.
+
+"A little self-willed," suggested Sage.
+
+"Self-willed!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John.  "He is a dictator in
+embryo."
+
+"He happens also to be a patriot," said Sage quietly.
+
+"Wait until you meet him," said the Prime Minister grimly.
+
+"I have met him," said Sage quietly.  "I trod on his toe last night at
+'Chu Chin Chow.'  We had quite a pleasant little chat about it.  I
+think that is all I need trouble you with, sir," he concluded.
+
+"And we are to see the thing through?" interrogated Colonel Walton, as
+Mr. Llewellyn John rose.  "There won't be any----"
+
+"No one else knows anything about it except Sir Lyster, Sir Bridgman
+and Admiral Heyworth.  By the way," Mr. Llewellyn John added, "our
+Canadian friend has an idea that our Secret Service is run by
+superannuated policemen in regulation boots."
+
+"I know," said Sage, as he followed his chief towards the door.
+
+"Good-bye," cried Mr. Llewellyn John.  "I'm sure I shall have to send
+you to the Tower, Sage, before I've finished with you."
+
+"Then I'll spend the time writing the History of Department Z., sir,"
+was the quiet reply.  The two men went out, and Mr. Llewellyn John rang
+for his secretary.
+
+"You have rather----" began Colonel Walton, but he stopped short.  Sage
+suddenly knocked him roughly with his elbow.
+
+"I have never seen the Mons Star," he said.  "Can we go round by
+Whitehall?  The Horse Guards sentries, I believe, wear it."
+
+The two men had reached the top of the steps leading down into St.
+James's Park.  Without a moment's pause Sage turned quickly, and nearly
+cannoned into a pretty and stylishly dressed girl, who was walking
+close behind them.  He lifted his hat and apologised, and he and
+Colonel Walton passed up Downing Street into Whitehall.  For the rest
+of the walk back to St. James's Square, Sage chatted about medals.
+
+Seated once more one on either side of Colonel Walton's table, Sage
+proceeded to light his pipe.
+
+"Clever, wasn't it?" he asked.  "She's fairly new, too."
+
+"Who was she?"
+
+"Vera Ellerton, employed as a Temporary Ministry typist," Sage replied
+drily.
+
+"So that was it," remarked Colonel Walton, cutting the end of a cigar
+with great deliberation.
+
+"She was following us on the chance of catching any odd remarks that
+might be useful.  On the way back here two others picked us up on the
+relay system."
+
+"Do you think she knew who we were?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+"No, just an off chance.  We were callers on the Skipper, and might let
+something drop.  It's a regular thing, picking up the callers,
+generally when they've got some distance away though."
+
+"They must have learned quite a deal about numismatics," said Colonel
+Walton drily.
+
+"A constitutional government is a great obstacle to an efficient Secret
+Service, it imposes limitations," remarked Sage regretfully.
+
+Colonel Walton looked across in the act of lighting his cigar.
+
+"There are six hundred and seventy of them at Westminster.  In war-time
+we require a system of the _lettre-de-cachet_.  And now," said Sage,
+rising, "I think I'll get a couple of hours' sleep, I've been pretty
+busy.  By the way," he said, with his hand upon the door-handle, "I
+think we might get the papers of that fellow on the Bergen boat, also a
+photograph, clothing, and full details of his appearance."
+
+Colonel Walton nodded and Malcolm Sage took his departure.
+
+
+II
+
+"It's curious."
+
+Malcolm Sage was seated at his table carefully studying several sheets
+of buff-coloured paper fastened together in the top left-hand corner
+with thin green cord.  In a tray beside him lay a number of similar
+documents.
+
+He glanced across at a small man with a dark moustache and determined
+chin sitting opposite.  The man made a movement as if to speak, then
+apparently thinking better of it, remained silent.
+
+"How many false calls did you say?" enquired Sage.
+
+"Nine in five days, sir," was the response.
+
+Malcolm Sage nodded his head several times, his eyes still fixed on the
+papers before him.
+
+One of his first acts on being appointed to Department Z. was to give
+instructions, through the proper channels, that all telephone-operators
+were to be warned to report to their supervisors anything that struck
+them as unusual, no matter how trivial the incident might appear,
+carefully noting the numbers of the subscribers whose messages seemed
+out of the ordinary.  This was quite apart from the special staff
+detailed to tap conversations, particularly call-box conversations
+throughout the Kingdom.
+
+A bright young operator at the Streatham Exchange, coveting the reward
+of five pounds offered for any really useful information, had called
+attention to the curious fact that Mr. Montagu Naylor, of "The Cedars,"
+Apthorpe Road, was constantly receiving wrong calls.
+
+This operator's report had been considered of sufficient importance to
+send to Department Z.  Instructions had been given for a complete
+record to be kept of all Mr. Montagu Naylor's calls, in-coming and
+out-going.  The first thing that struck Sage as significant was that
+all these false calls were made from public call-boxes.  He gave
+instructions that at the Streatham Exchange they were to enquire of the
+exchanges from which the calls had come if any complaint had been made
+by those getting wrong numbers.  The result showed that quite a number
+of people seemed content to pay threepence to be told that they were on
+to the wrong subscriber.
+
+"What do you make of it, Thompson?"  Malcolm Sage looked up in that
+sudden way of his, which many found so disconcerting.
+
+Thompson shook his head.  "I've had enquiries made at all the places
+given, and they seem quite all right, sir," was his reply.  "It's
+funny," he added after a pause.  "It began with short streets and small
+numbers, and then gradually took in the larger thoroughfares with
+bigger numbers."
+
+"The calls have always come through in the same way?" queried Malcolm
+Sage.  "First the number and then the street and no mention of the
+exchange."
+
+"Yes, sir," was the response.  "It's a bit of a puzzle," he added.
+
+Malcolm Sage nodded.  For some minutes they sat in silence, Sage
+staring with expressionless face at the papers before him.  Suddenly
+with a swift movement he pushed them over towards Thompson.
+
+"Get out a list of the whole range of numbers immediately, and bring it
+to me as soon as you can.  Tell them to get me through to Smart at the
+Streatham Exchange."
+
+"Very good, sir;" and the man took his departure.
+
+A minute later the telephone bell rang.
+
+Malcolm Sage took up the receiver.  "That you, Smart?" he enquired, "re
+Z.18, in future transcribe figures in words exactly as spoken, thus
+double-one-three, one-hundred-and-thirteen, or one-one-three, as the
+case may be."  He jammed the receiver back again on to the rest, and
+proceeded to gaze fixedly at the finger-nails of his left hand.
+
+A quarter of an hour later Special Service Officer Thompson entered
+with a long list of figures, which he handed to Malcolm Sage.
+
+"You've hit it, Thompson," said Sage, glancing swiftly down the list.
+
+"Have I, sir?" said Thompson, not quite sure what it was he was
+supposed to have hit.
+
+"They are----"
+
+At that moment the telephone bell rang.  Malcolm Sage put the receiver
+to his ear.
+
+"Yes, Malcolm Sage, speaking," he said.  There was a pause.  "Yes."
+Another pause.  "Good, continue to record in that manner;" and once
+more he replaced the receiver.
+
+"Vanity, Thompson, is at the root of all error."
+
+"Yes, sir, said Thompson dutifully.
+
+"Those figures," continued Sage, "are times, not numbers."
+
+With a quick indrawing of breath, which with Thompson always indicated
+excitement, he reached across for the list, his eyes glinting.
+
+"That was Smart on the telephone, another call just come through,
+three-twenty Oxford Street, not three-two-o, but three-twenty.  Make a
+note of it."
+
+Thompson produced a note-book and hastily scribbled a memorandum.
+
+"At three-twenty this afternoon you will probably find Mr. Montagu
+Naylor meeting somebody in Oxford Street.  Have both followed.  If by
+chance they don't turn up, have someone there at three-twenty every
+afternoon and morning for a week; it may be the second, third, fourth,
+or fifth day after the call for all we know, morning or evening."
+
+"It's the old story, Thompson," said Sage, who never lost a chance of
+pointing the moral, "over confidence.  Here's a fellow who has worked
+out a really original means of communication.  Instead of running it
+for a few months and then dropping it, he carries on until someone
+tumbles to his game."
+
+"Yes, sir," said Thompson respectfully.  It was an understood thing at
+Department Z. that these little homilies should be listened to with
+deference.
+
+"It's like a dog hiding a bone in a hat-box," continued Sage.  "He's so
+pleased with himself that he imagines no one else can attain to such
+mental brilliancy.  He makes no allowance for the chapter of accidents."
+
+"That is so, sir."
+
+"We mustn't get like that in Department Z., Thompson."
+
+Thompson shook his head.  Time after time Sage had impressed upon the
+staff of Department Z. that mentally they must be elastic.  "It's only
+a fool who is blinded by his own vapour," he had said.  He had pointed
+out the folly of endeavouring to fit a fact by an hypothesis.
+
+"That's all," and Malcolm Sage became absorbed in the paper before him.
+As he closed the door behind him Thompson winked gravely at a print
+upon the wall of the corridor opposite.  He was wondering how it was
+possible for one man to watch the whole of Oxford Street for a week.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+GINGERING-UP THE ADMIRALTY
+
+"Boss in?"
+
+Mr. Blair started violently; he had not heard John Dene enter his room.
+
+"Er--yes, Mr. Dene," he replied, "I'll tell him."  He half rose; but
+before he could complete the movement John Dene had opened the door
+communicating with Sir Lyster's private room.
+
+Mr. Blair sank back in his chair.  He was a man who assimilated
+innovation with difficulty.  All his life he had been cradled in the
+lap of "as it was in the beginning."  He was a vade-mecum on procedure
+and the courtesies of life, which made him extremely valuable to Sir
+Lyster.  He was a gentle zephyr, whereas John Dene was something
+between a sudden draught and a cyclone.
+
+Mr. Blair fixed his rather prominent blue eyes on the door that had
+closed behind John Dene.  He disliked colonials.  They always said what
+they meant, and went directly for what they wanted, all of which was in
+opposition to his standard of good-breeding.
+
+As he continued to gaze at the door, it suddenly opened and John Dene's
+head appeared.
+
+"Say," he cried, "if that yellow-headed girl comes, send her right in,"
+and the door closed with a bang.
+
+Inwardly Mr. Blair gasped; it was not customary for yellow-haired girls
+to be sent in to see the First Lord.
+
+"The difference between this country and Can'da," remarked John Dene,
+as he planted upon Sir Lyster's table a large, shapeless-looking
+parcel, from which he proceeded to remove the wrapping, "is that here
+every one wants to know who your father was; but in Can'da they ask
+what can you do.  I got that pound of tea," he added inconsequently.
+
+"The pound of tea!" repeated Sir Lyster uncomprehendingly, as he
+watched John Dene endeavouring to extract a packet from his pocket with
+one hand, and undo the string of the parcel with the other.
+
+"Yes, for that yellow-headed girl.  I ran into her in the corridor and
+smashed her teapot yesterday.  I promised I'd get her some more tea.
+Here it is;" and John Dene laid the package on the First Lord's table.
+"If she comes after I'm gone, you might give it to her.  I told her to
+run in here and fetch it.  This is the pot," he added, still struggling
+with the wrappings.
+
+Presently he disinterred from a mass of paper wound round it in every
+conceivable way, a large white, pink and gold teapot.
+
+Sir Lyster gazed from the teapot, terrifying in the crudeness of its
+shape and design, to John Dene and back again to the teapot.
+
+"Like it?" asked John Dene, as he looked admiringly at his purchase.
+"Ought to cheer those girls up some."
+
+Sir Lyster continued to gaze at the teapot as if fascinated.
+
+"I told her to run in here and fetch it," continued John Dene,
+indicating the packet of tea.  "She doesn't know about the pot," he
+added with self-satisfaction.
+
+"In here," repeated Sir Lyster, unwilling to believe his ears.
+
+"Sure," replied John Dene, his eyes still fixed admiringly upon the
+teapot, "at eleven o'clock.  It's that now," he added, looking at his
+watch.
+
+As he did so Mr. Blair entered and closed the door behind him.  He was
+obviously embarrassed.
+
+"A young person----" he began.
+
+"Send her right in," cried John Dene.
+
+Mr. Blair glanced uncertainly from Sir Lyster to John Dene, then back
+again to his chief.  Seeing no contradiction in his eye, he turned and
+held open the door to admit Dorothy West.
+
+"Ah! here you are," cried John Dene, rising and indicating that the
+girl should occupy his chair.  "There's your pound of tea," pointing to
+the package lying before Sir Lyster, "and there's a new teapot for
+you," he added, indicating that object, which seemed to flaunt its pink
+and white and gold as if determined to brazen things out.
+
+The girl looked at the teapot, at Sir Lyster and on to John Dene, and
+back to the teapot.  Then she laughed.  She had pretty teeth, John Dene
+decided.
+
+"It's very kind of you," she said, "but there wasn't a pound of tea in
+the teapot you broke yesterday, and--and----"
+
+"Never mind," said John Dene, "you can keep the rest.  Now see here, I
+want someone to take down my letters.  You're a stenographer?" he asked.
+
+The girl nodded her head.
+
+"Speeds?" enquired John Dene.
+
+"A hundred and twenty----" was the response.
+
+"Typing?"
+
+"Sixty-five words----"
+
+"You'll do," said John Dene with decision.  "In future you'll do my
+work only.  Nine o'clock, every morning."
+
+The girl looked enquiringly at Sir Lyster, who coughed slightly.
+
+"We will take up your references, Miss--er----"
+
+"Oh! cut it out," said John Dene impatiently, "I don't want references."
+
+"But," replied Sir Lyster, "this is work of a confidential nature.".
+
+"See here," cried John Dene.  "I started life selling newspapers in
+T'ronto.  I never had a reference, I never gave a reference and I never
+asked a reference, and the man who can get ahead of John Dene had
+better stay up all night for fear of missing the buzzer in the morning.
+That girl's straight, else she wouldn't be asked to do my letters," he
+added.  "Now, don't you wait," he said to Dorothy, seeing she was
+embarrassed at his remark; "nine o'clock to-morrow morning."
+
+"I think it will be necessary to take up references," began Sir Lyster
+as John Dene closed the door on Dorothy.
+
+John Dene span round on his heel.  "I run my business on Canadian
+lines, not on British," he cried.  "If you're always going to be around
+telling me what to do, then I'll see this country to hell before they
+get my _Destroyer_.  The man who deals with John Dene does so on his
+terms," and with that he left the room, closing the door with a bang
+behind him.
+
+For a moment he stood gazing down at Mr. Blair.  "Can you tell me," he
+asked slowly, "why the British Empire has not gone to blazes long ago?"
+
+Mr. Blair gazed at him, mild surprise in his prominent eyes.
+
+"I am afraid I don't--I cannot----" he began.
+
+"Neither can I," said John Dene.  "You're all just about as cute as
+dead weasels."
+
+John Dene walked along the corridor and down the staircase in high
+dudgeon.
+
+"Ha!  Mr. Dene, what's happened?" enquired Sir Bridgman, who was
+mounting the stairs as John Dene descended.
+
+"I've been wondering how it is the British Empire has hung together as
+long as it has," was the response.
+
+"What have we been doing now?" enquired Sir Bridgman.
+
+"It's my belief," remarked John Dene, "that in this country you
+wouldn't engage a janitor without his great-grandmother's
+birth-certificate."
+
+"I'm afraid we are rather a prejudiced nation," said Sir Bridgman
+genially.
+
+"I don't care a cousin Mary what you are," responded John Dene, "so
+long as you don't come up against me.  I'm out to win this war; it
+doesn't matter to me a red cent who's got the most grandmothers, and
+the sooner you tell the First Lord and that prize seal of his, the
+better we shall get on;" and John Dene abruptly continued on his way.
+
+Sir Bridgman smiled as he slowly ascended the stairs.
+
+"I suppose," he murmured, "we are in the process of being gingered-up."
+
+The rest of the day John Dene devoted to sight-seeing and wandering
+about the streets, keenly interested in and critical of all he saw.
+
+The next morning he was at the Admiralty a few minutes to nine, and was
+conducted by an attendant to the room that had been assigned to him.
+He gave a swift glance round and, apparently satisfied that it would
+suit his purpose, seated himself at the large pedestal table and took
+out his watch.  As he did so, he noticed an envelope addressed to him
+lying on the table.  Picking it up he tore off the end, extracted and
+read the note.  Just as he had finished there came a tap at the door.
+
+"Come," he called out.
+
+The door opened and Dorothy West entered, looking very pretty and
+business-like with a note-book and pencil in her hand.
+
+"Good morning," she said.
+
+"Mornin', Miss West," he replied, gazing at her apparently without
+seeing her.  He was obviously thinking of something else.
+
+She seated herself beside his table and looked up, awaiting his signal
+to begin the day's work.
+
+"There are some things in this country that get my goat," he remarked.
+
+John Dene threw down the letter he was reading, twirled the cigar
+between his lips and snorted his impatience, as he jumped from his
+chair and proceeded to stride up and down the room.
+
+"There are quite a lot that get mine," she remarked demurely, as she
+glanced up from her note-book.
+
+"A lot that get yours," he repeated, coming to a standstill and looking
+down at her.
+
+"Things that get my goat."  There was the slightest possible pause
+between the "my" and the "goat."
+
+Then John Dene smiled.  In Toronto it was said that when John Dene
+smiled securities could always be trusted to mount at least a point.
+
+"Well, listen to this."  He picked up the letter again and read:
+
+
+"DEAR MR. DENE,--
+
+"Sir Lyster desires me to write and express it as his most urgent wish
+that you will pay special regard to your personal safety.  He fears
+that you may be inclined to treat the matter too lightly, hence this
+letter.
+
+"Yours truly,
+  "REGINALD BLAIR."
+
+
+"If that chap hadn't such a dandy set of grandmothers and first
+cousins, he'd be picking up cigarette-stubs instead of wasting his time
+telling me what I knew a year ago."
+
+"But he's only carrying out Sir Lyster's instructions," suggested
+Dorothy.
+
+"There's something in that," he admitted grudgingly, "but if they're
+going to be always running around warning me of danger I know all
+about----"  He broke off.  "Why," he continued a moment later, "I was
+shot at on the steamer, nearly hustled into the docks at Liverpool, set
+on by toughs in Manchester and followed around as if I was a bell-mule.
+I tell you it gets my goat.  This country wants gingering-up."  John
+Dene continued his pacing of the room.
+
+"Couldn't you wear a red beard and blue glasses and----"
+
+"What's that?"  John Dene span round and fixed his eyes on the girl.
+
+"I mean disguise yourself," said Dorothy, dropping her eyes beneath his
+gaze.
+
+"Why?"  The interrogation was rapped out in such a tone as to cause the
+girl to shrink back slightly.
+
+"They wouldn't know and then it wouldn't----" she hesitated.
+
+"Wouldn't what?" he demanded.
+
+"Get your goat," said Dorothy after a moment's hesitation.
+
+He continued to gaze intently at Dorothy, who was absorbed in a blank
+page of her note-book.
+
+"Here, take this down;" and he proceeded to dictate.
+
+"MY DEAR MR. BLAIR,--
+
+"I am in receipt of yours of to-day's date.  Will you tell Sir Lyster
+that I have bought a machine-gun, a blue beard, false eyebrows, and
+Miss West and I are going to do bayonet drill every morning with a
+pillow.
+
+"With kind regards,
+  "Yours sincerely."
+
+
+For a few moments Dorothy sat regarding her book with knitted brows.
+"I don't think I should send that, if I were you, Mr. Dene," she said
+at length.
+
+"Why not?" he demanded, unaccustomed to having his orders questioned.
+
+"It sounds rather flippant, doesn't it?"
+
+John Dene smiled grimly, and as he made no further comment, Dorothy
+struck out the letter from her note-book.
+
+All through the morning John Dene threw off letters.  The way in which
+he did his dictating reminded Dorothy of a retriever shaking the water
+from its coat after a swim.  He hurled short, sharp sentences at her,
+as if anxious to be rid of them.  Sometimes he would sit hunched up at
+his table, at others he would spring up and proceed feverishly to pace
+about the room.
+
+As she filled page after page of her note-book, Dorothy wondered when
+she would have an opportunity of transcribing her notes.  Hour after
+hour John Dene dictated, in short bursts, interspersed with varying
+pauses, during which he seemed to be deep in thought.  Once Sir
+Bridgman looked in, and Dorothy had a space in which to breathe; but
+with the departure of the First Sea Lord the torrent jerked forth
+afresh.
+
+At two o'clock Dorothy felt that she must either scream or faint.  Her
+right hand seemed as if it would drop off.  At last she suggested that
+even Admiralty typists required lunch.  In a flash John Dene seemed to
+change into a human being, solicitous and self-reproachful.
+
+"Too bad," he said, as he pulled out his watch.  "Why, it's a quarter
+after two.  You must be all used up.  I'm sorry."
+
+"And aren't you hungry as well, Mr. Dene?" she asked, as she closed her
+note-book and rose.
+
+"Hungry!" he repeated as if she had asked him a surprising question.
+"I've no use for food when I'm hustling.  Where do you go for lunch?"
+
+"I go to a tea-shop," said Dorothy after a moment's hesitation.
+
+"And what do you eat?" demanded John Dene, with the air of a
+cross-examining counsel.
+
+"Oh, all sorts of things," she laughed; "buns and eggs and--and----"
+
+"That's no good," was the uncompromising rejoinder.
+
+"They're really quite nourishing," she said with a smile.  At the
+Admiralty it was not customary for the chiefs to enquire what the
+typists ate.
+
+"You'd better come with me and have a good meal," he said bluntly,
+reaching for his hat.
+
+Dorothy flushed.  The implication was too obvious to be overlooked.
+Drawing herself up slightly, and with her head a little thrown back,
+she declined.
+
+"I'm afraid I have an engagement," she said coldly.
+
+John Dene looked up, puzzled to account for her sudden hauteur.  He
+watched her leave the room, and then, throwing down his hat, reseated
+himself at his table and once more became absorbed in his work.
+
+Dorothy went to the Admiralty staff-restaurant and spent a week's lunch
+allowance upon her meal.  It seemed to help her to regain her
+self-respect.  When she returned to John Dene's room some forty minutes
+later, determined to get some of her notes typed before he returned,
+she found him still sitting at his table.  As she entered he took out
+his watch, looked at it and then up at her.  Dorothy crimsoned as if
+discovered in some illicit act.  She was angry with herself for her
+weakness and with John Dene--why, she could not have said.
+
+"You've been hustling some," he remarked, as he returned the watch to
+his pocket.
+
+"We've both been quick," said Dorothy, curious to know if John Dene had
+been to lunch.
+
+"Oh, I stayed right here," he said, still gazing up at her.
+
+Dorothy felt rebuked.  He had evidently felt snubbed, she told herself,
+and it was her fault that he had remained at work.
+
+"See here," said John Dene, "I can't breathe in this place.  It's all
+gold braid and brass buttons.  I'm going to rent my own offices, and
+have lunch sent in and we'll get some work done.  You can get a rest or
+a walk about three.  I don't like breaking off in the midst of things,"
+he added, a little lamely, Dorothy thought.
+
+"Very well, Mr. Dene," she said, as she resumed her seat.
+
+"Do you mind?  Say right out if you'd hate it."  There was a suspicion
+of anxiety in his tone.
+
+"I'm here to do whatever you wish," she said with dignity.
+
+With a sudden movement John Dene sprang up and proceeded to pace up and
+down the room.
+
+From time to time he glanced at Dorothy, who sat pencil and note-book
+ready for the flood of staccatoed sentences that usually accompanied
+these pacings to and fro.  At length he came to a standstill in the
+middle of the room, planted his feet wide apart as if to steady the
+resolution to which he had apparently come.
+
+"Say, what's all this worth to you?" he blurted out.
+
+Dorothy looked up in surprise, not grasping his meaning.
+
+"Worth to me?" she queried, her head on one side, the tip of her pencil
+resting on her lower lip.
+
+"Yes; what do they pay you?"
+
+"Oh!  I see.  Thirty-five shillings a week and, if I become a
+permanent, a pension when I'm too old to enjoy it," she laughed.  "That
+is if the Hun hasn't taken us over by then."
+
+"That'll be about nine dollars a week," mumbled John Dene, twisting his
+cigar round between his lips.  "Well, you're worth twenty dollars a
+week to me, so I'll make up the rest."
+
+"I'm quite satisfied, thank you," she said, drawing herself up slightly.
+
+"Well, I'm not," he blurted out.  "You're going to work well for me,
+and you're going to be well paid."
+
+"I'm afraid I cannot accept it," she said firmly, "although it's very
+kind of you," she added with a smile.
+
+He regarded her in surprise.  It was something new to him to find
+anyone refusing an increase in salary.  His cigar twirled round with
+remarkable rapidity.
+
+"I suppose I'm getting his goat," thought Dorothy, as she watched him
+from beneath lowered lashes.
+
+"Why won't you take it?" he demanded.
+
+"I'm afraid I cannot accept presents," she said with what she thought a
+disarming smile.
+
+"Oh, shucks!"  John Dene was annoyed.
+
+"If the Admiralty thought I was worth more than thirty-five shillings a
+week, they would pay me more."
+
+"Well, I'm not going to have anyone around that doesn't get a living
+wage," he announced explosively.
+
+"Does that mean that I had better go?" she inquired calmly.
+
+"No, it doesn't.  You just stay right here till I get back," was the
+reply, and he opened the door and disappeared, leaving Dorothy with the
+conviction that someone was to suffer because, in John Dene's opinion,
+she was inadequately paid.
+
+As she waited for John Dene's return, she could not keep her thoughts
+from what an extra forty-five shillings a week would mean to her.  She
+could increase the number and quality of the little "surprises" she
+took home with her to the mother in whose life she bulked so largely.
+Peaches could be bought without the damning prefix "tinned"; salmon
+without the discouraging modification "Canadian"; eggs that had not
+long since forgotten what hen had laid them and when.  She could take
+her more often to a theatre, or for a run in a taxi when she was tired.
+In short, a hundred and seventeen pounds a year would buy quite a lot
+of rose-leaves with which to colour her mother's life.
+
+Whilst Dorothy was building castles in Spain upon a foundation of
+eleven dollars a week, John Dene walked briskly along the corridor
+leading to Sir Lyster's room.  Mr. Blair was seated at his desk reading
+with calm deliberation and self-evident satisfaction a letter he had
+just written for Sir Lyster to one of his constituents.  He had devoted
+much time and thought to the composition, as it was for publication,
+and he was determined that no one should find in it flaw or ambiguity.
+The morning had been one of flawless serenity, and he was looking
+forward to a pleasant lunch with some friends at the Berkeley.
+
+"Here, what the hell do you mean by giving that girl only nine dollars
+a week?"
+
+Suddenly the idyllic peaceful ness of his mood was shattered into a
+thousand fragments.  John Dene had burst into the room with the force
+of a cyclone, and stood before him like an accusing fury.
+
+"Nine dollars a week!  What girl?" he stuttered, looking up weakly into
+John Dene's angry eyes.  "I--I----"
+
+"Miss West," was the retort.  "She's getting nine dollars a week, less
+than I pay an office boy in T'ronto."
+
+"But I--it's nothing to do with me," began Mr. Blair miserably.  He had
+become mortally afraid of John Dene, and prayed for the time to come
+when the Hun submarine menace would be ended, and John Dene could
+return to Toronto, where no doubt he was understood and appreciated.
+
+"Well, it ought to be," snapped John Dene, just as Sir Bridgman North
+came out of Sir Lyster's room.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Dene," he cried genially.  "What are you doing to
+poor Blair?"
+
+John Dene explained his grievance.  "I'd pay the difference myself,
+just to make you all feel a bit small, only she won't take it from me."
+
+"Well, I think I can promise that the matter shall be put right, and
+we'll make Blair take her out to lunch by way of apology, shall we?" he
+laughed.
+
+"I'd like to see him ask her," said John Dene grimly.  "That girl's a
+high-stepper, sir.  Nine dollars a week!" he grumbled as he left the
+room to the manifest relief of Mr. Blair.
+
+"You're being gingered-up, Blair," said Sir Bridgman; "in fact, we're
+all being gingered-up.  It's a bit surprising at first; but it's a
+great game played slow.  You'll get to like it in time, and it's all
+for the good of the British Empire."
+
+Mr. Blair smiled weakly as Sir Bridgman left the room; but in his heart
+he wished it were possible to have a sentinel outside his door, with
+strict injunctions to bayonet John Dene without hesitation should he
+seek admittance.
+
+"I've fixed it," announced John Dene, as he burst in upon Dorothy's day
+dream.  "You'll get twenty dollars in future."
+
+She looked up quickly.  "You're very kind, Mr. Dene," she said, "but is
+it--is it----?" she hesitated.
+
+"It's a square deal.  I told them you wouldn't take it from me, and
+that I wasn't going to have my secretary paid less than an office boy
+in T'ronto.  I gingered 'em up some.  Nine dollars a week for you!"
+
+The tone in which the last sentence was uttered brought a slight flush
+to Dorothy's cheeks.
+
+"Now you can get on," he announced, picking up his hat.  "I'm going to
+find offices;" and he went out like a gust of wind.
+
+Dorothy typed steadily on.  Of one thing she had become convinced, that
+the position of secretary to John Dene of Toronto was not going to
+prove a rest-billet.
+
+At a little after four Marjorie Rogers knocked at the door and,
+recognising Dorothy's "Come in," entered stealthily as if expecting
+someone to jump out at her.
+
+"Where's the bear, Wessie?" she enquired, keeping a weather eye on the
+door in case John Dene should return.
+
+"Gone out to buy bear-biscuits," laughed Dorothy, leaning back in her
+chair to get the kink out of her spine.
+
+"Do you think he'll marry you?" enquired the little brunette
+romantically, as she perched herself upon John Dene's table and swung a
+pretty leg.  "They don't usually, you know."
+
+"He'll probably kill you if he catches you," said Dorothy.
+
+"Oh, if he comes I'm here to ask if you would like some tea," was the
+airy reply.
+
+"You angel!" cried Dorothy.  "I should love it."
+
+"Has he tried to kiss you yet?" demanded the girl, looking at Dorothy
+searchingly.
+
+"Don't be ridiculous," cried Dorothy, conscious that she was flushing.
+
+"I see he has," she said, regarding Dorothy judicially and nodding her
+head wisely.
+
+Dorothy re-started typing.  It was absurd, she decided, to endeavour to
+argue with this worldly child of Whitehall.
+
+"They're all the same," continued Marjorie, lifting her skirt slightly
+and gazing with obvious approval at the symmetry of her leg.  "You
+didn't let him, I hope," continued the girl.  "You see, it makes it bad
+for others."  Then a moment later she added, "It should be chocs.
+before kisses, and they've got to learn the ropes."
+
+"And you, you little imp, have got to learn morals."  Dorothy laughed
+in spite of herself at the quaint air of wisdom with which this girl of
+eighteen settled the ethics of Whitehall.
+
+"What's the use of morals?" cried the girl.  "I mean morals that get in
+the way of your having a good time.  Of course I wouldn't----"  She
+paused.
+
+"Never mind what you wouldn't do, Brynhilda the Bold," said Dorothy,
+"but concentrate on the woulds, and bring me the tea you promised."
+
+The girl slipped off the table and darted across the room, returning a
+few minutes later with a cup of tea and a few biscuits.
+
+"I can't stop," she panted.  "Old Goggles has been giving me the bird;"
+and with that she was gone.
+
+It was a quarter to seven before John Dene returned.  Without a word he
+threw his hat on the bookcase and seated himself at his table.  For the
+next quarter of an hour he was absorbed in reading the lists and
+letters Dorothy had typed.  At seven o'clock Dorothy placed the last
+list on the table before him.
+
+"Is there anything more, Mr. Dene?" she enquired.  She was conscious of
+feeling inexpressibly weary.
+
+"Yes," said John Dene, without looking up.  "You're coming out to have
+some dinner."
+
+"I'm afraid I can't, thank you," she said.  "My mother is waiting."
+
+"Oh shucks!" he cried, looking up quickly.
+
+"But it isn't!" she said wearily.
+
+"Isn't what?" demanded John Dene.
+
+"Shucks!" she said; then, seeing the absurdity of the thing, she
+laughed.
+
+"We'll send your mother an express message or a wire.  You look dead
+beat."  He smiled and Dorothy capitulated.  It would be nice, she told
+herself, not to have to go all the way to Chiswick before having
+anything to eat.
+
+"But where are you taking me, Mr. Dene?" enquired Dorothy, as they
+turned from Waterloo Place into Pall Mall.
+
+"To the Ritzton."
+
+"But I'm--I'm----" she stopped dead.
+
+"What's wrong?" he demanded, looking at her in surprise.
+
+"I--I can't go there," she stammered.  "I'm not dressed for----"  She
+broke off lamely.
+
+"That'll be all right," he said.  "It's my hotel."
+
+"It may be your hotel," said Dorothy, resuming the walk, "but I don't
+care to go there in a blouse and a skirt to be stared at."
+
+"Who'll stare at you?"
+
+"Not at me, at my clothes," she corrected.
+
+"Then we'll go to the grill-room," he replied with inspiration.
+
+"That might be----" She hesitated.
+
+"You're not going home until you have something to eat," he announced
+with determination.  "You look all used up," he added.
+
+Dorothy submitted to the inevitable, conscious of a feeling of content
+at having someone to decide things for her.  Suddenly she remembered
+Marjorie Rogers' remarks.  What was she doing?  If any of the girls saw
+her they would----  She had done the usual thing, sent a telegram to
+her mother to say she should be late, and was dining out with her chief
+on the first day----  Oh! it was horrible.
+
+"Would you--would you?"--she turned to John Dene appealingly,--"would
+you mind if I went home," she faltered.  "I'm not feeling--very well."
+She gulped out the last words conscious of the lie.
+
+"Why sure," he said solicitously.  "I'm sorry."
+
+To her infinite relief he hailed a taxi.
+
+"I'll come along and see you safe," he announced in a matter-of-fact
+tone.
+
+"Oh, please no," she cried, "I'd much sooner----"  She broke off
+distressed.
+
+Without a word he handed her into the taxi.
+
+"Where am I to tell him?" he enquired.
+
+"Douglas Mansions, Chiswick, please," gasped Dorothy, and she sank back
+in the taxi with a feeling that she had behaved very ridiculously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+JOHN DENE LEAVES WHITEHALL
+
+
+I
+
+"Come," shouted John Dene irritably.
+
+The door opened and Mr. Blair entered.  John Dene swung round from his
+table and glared at him angrily.
+
+"I tried to telephone," began Mr. Blair.
+
+"Well, you can't," snapped John Dene, "receiver's off.  Your boys have
+been playing dido all morning on my 'phone."
+
+"I'm sorry if----"
+
+"That don't help any.  Why don't you stop 'em?  Seem to think I'm a
+sort of enquiry bureau."
+
+Dorothy bent low over her notes to hide the smile she could not
+restrain at the sight of the obvious wretchedness of Mr. Blair.
+
+"Sir Lyster would like you to step round----"
+
+"Well, I won't; tell him that," was the irascible reply.
+
+"He wants you to meet Sir Harold Winn, the chief naval constructor,"
+explained Mr. Blair.
+
+"Tell him to go to blazes and take his constructions with him.  Now
+vamoose."
+
+Mr. Blair hesitated, glanced at John Dene, seemed about to speak, then
+evidently thinking better of it withdrew, closing the door noiselessly
+behind him.
+
+As John Dene swung round once more to his table, he caught Dorothy's
+eye.  She smiled.
+
+With a little grumble in his throat John Dene became absorbed in his
+papers.  Dorothy decided that he was a little ashamed of his outburst.
+
+All the day he had shown marked irritability under the constant
+interruptions to which he had been subjected.
+
+They worked on steadily for a quarter of an hour.  Presently there was
+a gentle tap at the door.  With one bound John Dene was out of his
+chair and across the room.  A second later he threw open the door,
+ready to annihilate whoever might be there, from the First Lord
+downwards.
+
+"Oo--er!"
+
+Marjorie Rogers stood there, her pretty eyes dilated with fear as John
+Dene glared at her.  His set look relaxed at the sight of the girl.
+
+"Is--is--Miss West here?" she enquired timidly.
+
+"Sure, come right in," he said.
+
+Dorothy was surprised at the change produced by the appearance of
+Marjorie Rogers.
+
+The girl came a few steps into the room, then seeing Dorothy tripped
+over to her and, turning to John Dene, said, still a little nervously:
+
+"I--I came to ask Miss West if she would like some tea."  She smiled up
+at John Dene, a picture of guileless innocence.
+
+"Sorry if I scared you," he said awkwardly.
+
+"Oh, you didn't frighten me," she said, regaining confidence at the
+sight of John Dene's embarrassment.
+
+"Perhaps Mr. Dene would like a cup of tea too, Rojjie," suggested
+Dorothy.
+
+"Oh, would you?" cried the girl eagerly.
+
+"Why, sure," said John Dene and he smiled, for the first time that day,
+Dorothy mentally noted.
+
+In a flash Marjorie disappeared.
+
+"I'm--I'm sorry," said John Dene to Dorothy.  "I didn't know she was a
+friend of yours."
+
+"She's in the room I used to be in, and--she's very sweet and brings me
+tea."
+
+He nodded comprehendingly.  "They do a lot of that here, don't they?"
+
+"A lot of what?" asked Dorothy.
+
+"Drinking tea."
+
+"We only have it in the afternoon, and----"
+
+At that moment Marjorie entered with a small tray containing three cups
+of tea and a plate of biscuits.  These she placed on John Dene's table.
+
+Dorothy gasped at the sight of the three cups, wondering what John Dene
+would think.
+
+"I brought mine in to have with you," said Marjorie with perfect
+self-possession, as she handed Dorothy her cup, then turning to John
+Dene she smiled.  He nodded, as if she had done a most ordinary thing.
+
+Perching herself upon the corner of John Dene's table, Marjorie chatted
+brightly, having apparently quite overcome her fears.
+
+"You know, Mr. Dene," she said, "we're all dreadfully intrigued about
+you."
+
+John Dene looked at her with a puzzled expression.
+
+"All the other girls are terribly afraid of you," she continued.  "I'm
+not."
+
+"Of me?"  He looked at her in surprise, as if he regarded himself as
+the last person in the world to inspire fear.
+
+"They say you glare at them."  She smiled a wicked little smile that
+she called "the rouser."  As John Dene did not reply Marjorie
+continued: "They call you 'the bear.'"
+
+"Rojjie!" gasped Dorothy in horror.
+
+"The bear?" repeated John Dene.  "Why?"
+
+"Oh, but I am going to tell them you're not," said Marjorie, nibbling
+at a biscuit and looking across at John Dene appraisingly.  "I think
+you're really rather nice."
+
+John Dene glanced across at Dorothy, as if unable quite to classify the
+girl before him.
+
+"Of course they don't know that you can smile like that," added
+Marjorie.
+
+John Dene was about to make some remark when there came another knock.
+
+"Come," he cried, and a moment later the door opened and Sir Lyster
+entered, followed by a tall, sedate-looking man with a bulging forehead
+and ragged moustache.
+
+For a moment the two regarded the scene, Sir Lyster having recourse to
+his monocle.
+
+Marjorie slipped down from the table, all her self-possession deserting
+her at the sight of Sir Lyster's disapproving gaze.  Dorothy bent over
+her notes, conscious of her burning cheeks, whilst John Dene rose with
+entire unconcern.
+
+"I'm afraid we've interrupted you, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster.
+
+"It's the one thing they do well in this shack," was John Dene's
+uncompromising retort.
+
+Sir Lyster gazed a little anxiously at his companion.
+
+Taking advantage of the diversion, Marjorie slipped out and Dorothy,
+deciding that she would not be wanted for at least a few minutes,
+followed her.
+
+"I want to introduce you to Sir Harold Winn," said Sir Lyster.
+
+"Pleased to meet you," said John Dene, shaking Sir Harold vigorously by
+the hand.  "Take a seat."
+
+John Dene and the Chief Naval Constructor were soon deep in the
+intricacies of submarine-construction.  When at length Sir Harold rose
+to go, there was something like cordiality in John Dene's voice, as he
+bade him good-bye.  Sir Harold had been able to meet him on common
+ground, and show an intelligent and comprehensive interest in his work.
+
+Immediately they had gone, Dorothy, who had been waiting in the
+corridor, slipped back to her chair, first removing the tea tray from
+John Dene's table.  Soon she was busily taking down notes.
+
+While she was thus occupied, Sir Lyster was narrating to Sir Bridgman
+North the latest John Dene outrage, first his open flouting of the
+Chief Naval Constructor by refusing to see him, secondly the
+interrupted tea, and the girl perched upon John Dene's table.
+
+Sir Bridgman laughed loudly, as much at the expression on Sir Lyster's
+face as at the occurrence itself.
+
+"Such incidents," said Sir Lyster, "are, I think, very undesirable."
+
+"It looks as if John Dene were a dark horse," suggested Sir Bridgman.
+"Was the other girl pretty?"
+
+"I really didn't notice," said Sir Lyster stiffly.  "I thought perhaps
+you might"--he hesitated for a fraction of a second--"just drop him a
+hint," he added.
+
+"And be gingered-up as high as our own aerials," laughed Sir Bridgman.
+"No, my dear Grayne," he added, "I find 'gingering-up' intensely
+interesting in its application to others.  Get Blair to do it."
+
+"But I'm afraid it may create a scandal," said Sir Lyster.
+
+"Oh! another little scandal won't do us any harm," laughed Sir
+Bridgman.  "Now I must be off.  By the way," he said, as he reached the
+door, "what time did this little tea-fight take place?"
+
+"It was about four o'clock when Winn and I----"
+
+"Right," said Sir Bridgman, "I'll drop in about that time to-morrow and
+see what's doing," and the door closed behind him.
+
+A moment later he put his head round the door.  "One of these days
+you'll be finding Blair with a girl on each knee," he laughed, and with
+that he was gone.
+
+John Dene's reason for wishing to have offices somewhere away from the
+Admiralty had been twofold.  For one thing he did not desire those he
+knew were closely watching should see him in close association with
+Whitehall; for another he felt that he could breathe more freely away
+from gold braid and those long dreary corridors, which seemed so out of
+keeping with the headquarters of a Navy at war.  He now determined to
+get out at once.  The constant interruptions to which he found himself
+subjected, rendered concentration impossible.  He therefore informed
+Dorothy that at nine o'clock next morning they would start work in the
+new offices he had taken in Waterloo Place.  They consisted of two
+rooms, one leading off the other.  The larger room John Dene decided to
+use himself, the smaller he handed over to Dorothy.
+
+With a celerity that had rather surprised John Dene the telephone had
+been connected and a private wire run through to the Admiralty.
+
+"The thing about a Britisher," he remarked to Dorothy, "is that he can
+hustle, but won't."
+
+She allowed the remark to pass unchallenged.
+
+"Now things will begin to hum," he said, as he settled himself down to
+his table.  Throwing aside his coat, he set to work.  There was little
+over three weeks in which to get everything organised and planned.
+Long lists of stores for the _Destroyer_ had to be prepared, the
+details of the structural alterations to the _Toronto_, the name given
+to the mother-ship that was to act as tender to the _Destroyer_,
+instructions to the Canadian crew that was coming over, and a thousand
+and one other things that kept them busily occupied.  He arranged to
+have luncheon sent in from the Ritzton.  After the first day the
+ordering of these meals was delegated to Dorothy.  John Dene's ideas on
+the subject of food proved original, resulting in the ordering of about
+five times as much as necessary.
+
+Dorothy came to look forward to these dainty meals, which she could
+order with unstinted hand, and she liked the tete-a-tete half-hours
+during their consumption.  Then John Dene would unbend and tell her of
+Canada, about his life there and in America, how he had planned and
+built the _Destroyer_.  He seemed to take it for granted that she could
+be trusted to keep her own counsel.
+
+The night after John Dene's entry into his new offices the place was
+burgled.  In the morning when he arrived he found papers tossed about
+in reckless disorder.  The fourth set of plans of German U-boats had
+disappeared.
+
+With grim humour he drew a fifth set from his pocket, and placed it in
+the safe, which he did not keep locked, as it contained nothing of
+importance.  John Dene's method was to burn every paper or duplicate
+that was no longer required, and to have sent over to the Admiralty
+each day before five o'clock such documents as were of importance.
+
+For the first time in her life Dorothy felt she was doing something of
+national importance.  John Dene trusted her, and took her patriotism as
+a matter of course.  Sometimes he would enquire if she were tired, and
+on hearing that she was not he would nod his approval.
+
+"You're some worker," he once remarked casually, whereat Dorothy had
+flushed with pleasure.  Later she remembered that this was the first
+word of praise she had heard him bestow on anything or anybody British.
+
+At first a buttons had called from the Ritzton each morning and
+afternoon for orders; but after the second day he had been superseded
+by a waiter.  One morning, after the order had been given, John Dene
+enquired of Dorothy if she had ever tasted lobster a l'Americaine.
+
+"Typists don't eat lobster a l'Americaine in England, Mr. Dene," she
+had replied.  "It's too expensive."
+
+Whereupon he had told her to ring up the Ritzton and order lobster a
+l'Americaine for lunch in place of the order already given.  Ten
+minutes later a ring came through from the hotel to the effect that
+there must be some mistake, as there was no lunch on order for Mr. John
+Dene.  Dorothy protested that they had been supplied with lunch each
+day for the last four days.  The management deprecatingly suggested
+that there had been a mistake, as after the first two days the order
+had been cancelled.  Dorothy repeated the information to John Dene, who
+then took the receiver.
+
+"If you didn't supply lunch yesterday, who the blazes did?" he
+demanded, and a suave voice answered that it did not know who it was
+that had that honour, but certainly it was not the Ritzton.
+
+John Dene banged back the receiver impatiently.  "We'll wait and see
+what happens at twelve o'clock," he exclaimed, as he turned once more
+to the papers on his table.  "Somebody's feeding us," he muttered.
+
+"Perhaps it's the ravens," murmured Dorothy to herself.
+
+At twelve o'clock a waiter entered with a tray.  At the sound of his
+knock, John Dene revolved round in his chair.
+
+"Here, where do you come from?" he demanded, glaring as if he suspected
+the man of being of German parentage.
+
+The man started violently and nearly dropped the tray.
+
+"I obey orders," he stammered.
+
+"Yes; but whose orders?"
+
+For a moment the man hesitated.
+
+"Do you come from the Ritzton?" demanded John Dene aggressively.
+
+"I obey orders," repeated the man.
+
+John Dene looked from the tray to Dorothy, and then to the man; but
+said nothing, contenting himself with waving the man out with an
+impatient motion of his hand.
+
+After the meal he picked up his hat, lighted a cigar and told Dorothy
+he would be back in a quarter of an hour.  Five minutes later he burst
+in upon Mr. Blair.
+
+"Here, what the hell's all this about my meals?" John Dene seemed to
+take a delight in descending upon Sir Lyster's secretary.
+
+Mr. Blair turned towards him with that expression he seemed to keep
+expressly for John Dene.  "Your meals," he stammered.
+
+"Yes," replied John Dene, blowing volumes of acrid smoke towards the
+sensitive nostrils of Mr. Blair.  "Why was my order to the Ritzton
+cancelled?  That sort of thing rattles me."
+
+"I'm afraid that I know nothing of this," said Mr. Blair, "but I will
+enquire."
+
+"Well, I'd like somebody to put me wise as to why he interferes with my
+affairs," and John Dene stamped out of the room and back to Waterloo
+Place.
+
+
+II
+
+"Shucks!" cried John Dene irritably.  "You make me tired."
+
+"I doubt if you appreciate the seriousness of the situation," was
+Colonel Walton's quiet retort.
+
+"I appreciate the seriousness of a situation that turns my 'phone into
+a sort of elevator-bell, and makes my office like a free-drink saloon
+at an election."
+
+Colonel Walton smiled indulgently, Dorothy kept her eyes upon her
+note-book.
+
+"You get your notion about spies from ten cent thrillers," continued
+John Dene scornfully.  "Don't you worry about me.  If there's a hungry
+dog I believe in feeding it," he added enigmatically.  "I might as well
+be a lost baggage office.  Every mutt that has ten minutes to waste
+seems to blow in on me.  You're the tenth this a.m."
+
+"At that rate you will soon have exhausted all the Government
+Departments," said Colonel Walton with a smile.  "I doubt if any will
+venture a second visit," he added quietly.
+
+John Dene glanced across at him quickly.  "Say, I didn't mean to make
+you mad," he said in a conciliatory tone; "but all this rattles me.  I
+can't get along with things while they're playing rags on my 'phone.
+It makes me madder'n a wet hen."
+
+"I quite understand, Mr. Dene," said Colonel Walton, with that
+imperturbable good-humour that was the envy of his friends.  "You are
+rather valuable to us, you see, and if we err on the side of
+over-caution----"  He paused.
+
+"Sure," cried John Dene, thawing under the influence of Colonel
+Walton's personality, then after a pause he added.  "See here, your
+boys seem to have a notion that I'm particular green goods.  You just
+let one of 'em try and corral me one of these nights, and when you've
+explained things to the widow, you can just blow in here and tell me
+how she took it."
+
+"It's the insidious rather than the overt act," began Colonel Walton.
+
+"The what?"  John Dene looked at him with a puzzled expression.
+
+Instead of replying Colonel Walton drew from his right-hand pocket
+something in a paper bag, such as is used by confectioners.  This he
+placed upon the table.  He then extracted from his other pocket a small
+package rolled in newspaper, which he laid beside the paper bag.
+
+John Dene stared at him as if not quite sure of his sanity.
+
+"Perhaps you will open those packets."
+
+With his eyes still on his visitor John Dene picked up the paper bag
+and, turning it upside down, shook out upon the table a brown and white
+guinea-pig--dead.  Dorothy drew back with a little cry.
+
+"This some of your funny work?" demanded John Dene angrily.
+
+"There's still the other parcel," said Colonel Walton, his eyes upon
+the small roll done up in newspaper.
+
+Very gingerly John Dene unrolled the paper, Dorothy watching from a
+safe distance with wide-eyed curiosity.
+
+"Gee!" he muttered, as a large dead grey rat lay exposed, its upper lip
+drawn back from his teeth, giving it a snarling appearance.  He looked
+interrogatingly at Colonel Walton.
+
+"There; but for the grace of God lies John Dene of Toronto," he
+remarked quietly, nodding in the direction of the two rodents.
+
+"Here, what the hell----!" began John Dene, then catching sight of
+Dorothy he stopped suddenly.
+
+"Two days ago you ordered for lunch ris de veau and apple tart--among
+other things.  The rat is the victim of the one, the guinea-pig of the
+other."
+
+Dorothy gave a little cry of horror.  John Dene looked across at her
+quickly, then back to Colonel Walton.
+
+"You mean----" he began.
+
+"That a certain Department has assumed the responsibility of catering
+for a distinguished visitor," was the quiet reply.  "It is but one of
+the pleasant obligations of empire."
+
+John Dene sat gazing at the dead animals as if fascinated.  With
+distended eyes and slightly parted lips Dorothy looked from the table
+to Colonel Walton, and then back to the table again, as if unable to
+comprehend the full significance of what was taking place.
+
+"I would suggest," said Colonel Walton, "that you never take food
+regularly at any one hotel or restaurant.  Avoid being out late at
+night, particularly raid-nights."
+
+"Raid-nights!"
+
+"You might be knocked on the head and removed as a casualty."
+
+John Dene nodded, Dorothy gasped.
+
+"Never take food or drink of any sort in your room at the hotel, and
+don't travel on the Tube or Underground, at least never stand on the
+edge of the platform, and don't use taxis."
+
+"And what about a nurse?" demanded John Dene.
+
+"If you observe these points I scarcely think one would be necessary,"
+was the quiet rejoinder.  "It would also be advisable," continued
+Colonel Walton, "for Miss West to be particularly careful about making
+chance acquaintances."
+
+Dorothy drew herself up stiffly.
+
+"During the last few days," continued Colonel Walton, "a number of
+attempts have been made by women as well as men."
+
+"How did you know?" she cried in surprise.
+
+"We have sources of information," smiled Colonel Walton.  "For
+instance, the day before yesterday, at lunch, a pleasant-spoken old
+lady asked you to go with her to the theatre one Saturday afternoon."
+
+Dorothy gasped.
+
+"You very rightly declined.  A few days ago a man ran after you just as
+you had left the Tube train at Piccadilly Circus, saying that you had
+left your umbrella."
+
+"How funny that you should know!" cried Dorothy.  "Such a number of
+people have spoken to me lately.  First it was men, and now it's always
+women."
+
+"Make no acquaintances at all, Miss West," said Colonel Walton.
+
+"I'll remember," she said, nodding her head with decision.
+
+"Well, Mr. Dene, I fear I mustn't take up any more of your time," said
+Colonel Walton, rising, with that air of indolence which with him
+invariably meant that something important was coming.  "If you will not
+allow us to be responsible for your own safety, we must at least
+provide for that of Government servants."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"We should not like anything to happen to Miss West."
+
+To Colonel Walton's "Good-day" John Dene made no response, he seemed
+unaware that he had left the room.
+
+"Gee!" he muttered at length, then swinging round to Dorothy with a
+suddenness that caused her to start, "You had better vamoose," he cried.
+
+"Vam----" she began.  "How do I do it?"
+
+"Quit, clear out of here."  He sprang from his chair and proceeded to
+pace up and down the room.
+
+"Does that mean that I'm discharged?" she enquired, smiling.
+
+"You heard what he said.  They're up to their funny work.  They missed
+us this time and got the rat and guinea-pig.  They're always at it.  I
+don't make a fuss; but I know.  There'll be a bomb in my bed one of
+these nights.  You'd better call a halt right here."
+
+"Shall we get on with the letters, Mr. Dene?" said Dorothy quietly.
+"Father was a soldier."
+
+For a moment he looked at her with his keen penetrating eyes, then
+swinging round to his table caught sight of the two dead rodents.
+
+"Here, what the blazes does he want to leave these things here for," he
+cried irritably and, seizing a ruler, he swept them into the
+waste-paper basket.
+
+For the rest of the day Dorothy was conscious that John Dene's heart
+was not in his work.  Several times, when happening to look up
+unexpectedly, she found his eyes on her, and there was in them an
+anxiety too obvious to be dissimulated.  John Dene was clearly worried.
+
+"It's an extraordinary thing," Sage remarked later that afternoon to
+Colonel Walton, "that apparently no one has ever thought of encouraging
+a taste for apple-tart in guinea-pigs."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+MR. MONTAGU NAYLOR OF STREATHAM
+
+Whilst John Dene was preparing interminable lists for the Victualling
+and Stores Departments of the Admiralty, Department Z. was making
+discreet and searching enquiries regarding Mr. Montagu Naylor of
+Streatham.  Among other things it discovered that he was essentially
+English.  The atrocities in Belgium and Northern France rendered him
+almost speechless with indignation.  Wherever he went, and to
+whomsoever he met, he proclaimed the German an enemy to civilisation.
+It was his one topic of conversation, and in time his friends and
+acquaintance came to regard the word "Hun" as a danger signal.
+
+Mr. Naylor had arrived at Streatham towards the end of 1909, coming
+from no one knew whither; but according to his own account from
+Norwich.  He was of independent means, without encumbrances beyond a
+wife, a deaf servant, registered as a Swiss, and a particularly
+fierce-dispositioned chow, an animal that caused marked irregularity in
+the delivery of his milk, newspapers and letters.  Sometimes the animal
+chose to resent the approach of all comers, and after the postman had
+lost a portion of his right trouser-leg, he had decided that whatever
+might happen to His Majesty's mails, the postman's calf was sacred.
+Thenceforth he never delivered letters when James was at large.
+
+Without participating in the postman's mishap, the paper-boy and
+milkman had adopted his tactics.  The dustman point-blank refused to
+touch the refuse from "The Cedars" unless it were placed on the
+pavement, and the gate securely closed.
+
+Sometimes the readings of the electric and gas meters were formally
+noted by officials, whose uniform began and ended with their caps;
+sometimes they were not.  Everything depended upon the geographical
+position of James at the moment of the inspector's call.
+
+The baker who supplied Mr. Naylor had, as a result of a complaint from
+his man, made a personal call of protest; but he had succeeded only in
+losing his temper to Mr. Naylor and the seat of his trousers to James.
+Thenceforth "The Cedars" had to seek its bread elsewhere.  Incidentally
+the master-baker obtained a new pair of trousers at Mr. Naylor's
+expense.
+
+Why Mr. Naylor continued to keep James was a puzzle to all the
+neighbours, who, knowing him as a champion of the rights of man, votes
+for women, the smaller nations, and many other equally uncomfortable
+things, were greatly surprised that he should keep a dog that was
+clearly of a savage and dangerous disposition.
+
+About Mr. Naylor himself there was nothing of the ferocity of his dog.
+He was suave, with a somewhat deprecating manner, a ready, almost
+automatic smile, in which his eyes never seemed to join, a sallow
+complexion, large round glasses, a big nose and ugly teeth.  He had a
+thick voice, thick ears and a thick skin--when it so served his purpose.
+
+His love for England was almost alien, and he was never tired of
+motoring from one part of the country to another, that is before the
+war.  His car had been something unique, as in a few seconds it could
+be turned into a moderately comfortable sleeping apartment.  Thus he
+was independent of hotels, or lodgings.
+
+Mrs. Naylor was a woman of negative personality.  She looked after the
+house, fed James and never asked questions of Mr. Naylor, thus
+justifying her existence.
+
+Susan, the maid, was also negative, from her stupid round, moist face
+to the shapeless feet that she never seemed to be able to lift from the
+floor.  She had acquired great dexterity in shuffling out of the way
+just before Mr. Naylor appeared.  This she seemed to have reduced to a
+fine art.  If Mr. Naylor were going upstairs and Susan was about to
+descend, by the time he was halfway up she would have disappeared as
+effectively as if snatched away by some spirit agency.  Susan was dumb;
+but her sense of sound was extremely acute.  It seemed as if, conscious
+of her inability to hold her own verbally with her employer, she had
+fallen back upon the one alternative, disappearance.
+
+The Naylors were possessed of few friends, although Mr. Naylor had many
+acquaintances, the result of the way in which he had identified himself
+with local clubs and institutions.  It was largely due to him that the
+miniature rifle-range had been started.  He was one of the governors of
+the Cranberry Cottage Hospital.  He always subscribed to the annual
+Territorial sports, patronised the boy scouts, openly advocated
+conscription, and the two-power standard for the Navy.  There were
+times when Streatham found it almost embarrassing to be possessed of a
+patriot in its midst.
+
+Never had a breath of scandal tarnished the fair name of Mr. Montagu
+Naylor.  He was what a citizen should be and seldom is.  When war broke
+out his activities became almost bewildering.  He joined innumerable
+committees, helped to form the volunteers, and encouraged every one and
+everything that was likely to make things uncomfortable for the enemy.
+Later, he became a member of the local exemption tribunal, and earned
+fame by virtue of his clemency.  It was he who was instrumental in
+obtaining exemption for some of James's most implacable enemies.  The
+baker, who had lost the whole of his temper and a portion of his
+trousers, probably owed his life to the manner in which Mr. Naylor
+championed his claim that bread is mightier than the sword.
+
+Before the war the Naylors received twice each month, once their
+friends and once their relatives.  Never were the two allowed to meet.
+"Our friends we make ourselves, our relatives are given to us," Mr.
+Naylor had explained with ponderous humour, "I hate to mix the two."
+It was noticed that the relatives stayed much longer than the friends,
+and some commiseration was felt for the Naylors by their immediate
+neighbours.
+
+There had been one curious circumstance in connection with these social
+functions.  Whenever the friends were invited, James was always in the
+front garden, restrained by a chain that allowed of the guests carrying
+their calves into the hall with an eighteen inch margin of safety.
+When, however, it was the turn of the relatives to seek the hospitality
+of "The Cedars," James was never visible.  A cynic might have construed
+this into indicating that from his relatives Mr. Naylor had
+expectations.
+
+Within his own home Mr. Naylor was a changed man.  He ruled Mrs.
+Naylor, Susan and James with an iron hand.  They all fawned upon him,
+vainly inviting the smiles that when others were present seemed never
+to fail in the mechanical precision with which they illumined his
+features at appropriate moments.  They gave the impression of being
+turned on, as if controlled by a tap or switch.  Never was this smile
+seen once the hall door was passed.  Then Mr. Naylor's jaw squared, and
+his whole attitude seemed to become more angular.
+
+A knock at the door would cause him to look up quickly from whatever he
+was doing, just as a gamekeeper might look up at the report of a gun.
+By his orders Mrs. Naylor and Susan between them kept a complete list
+of all callers, even hawkers, if they were sufficiently courageous to
+risk an encounter with the redoubtable James.
+
+Mr. Naylor was a tall man of broad build, with a head that would
+persist in remaining square, in spite of his best endeavours to grow
+the hair upon it in such a way as to soften its angularity.  His eyes
+were steely, his forehead low, his mouth hard and his manner furtive.
+That was within doors.  The breath of heaven, however, seemed to
+mitigate all these unamiable characteristics, and it was only on very
+rare occasions that, once beyond his own threshold, an observer would
+see the harshness of the man.  He smiled down at children, sometimes he
+patted their heads, he was never lacking in a tip, appropriate or
+inappropriate, he was the smoother out of discordant situations, he
+nodded to all the tradespeople, smiled genially at his inferiors, and
+saluted his superiors and equals.  In short he was an ideal citizen.
+
+The outbreak of war in August, 1914, was responsible for two changes in
+the Naylor menage.  First the at-home days were discontinued, secondly
+James was more than ever in evidence.  Nobody, however, noticed the
+changes, because in Streatham such things are not considered worthy of
+notice.
+
+Mr. Naylor received few letters, for which the postman was grateful to
+providence.  Had Streatham been a little more curious, it would have
+noticed that Mr. Naylor's comings and goings were fraught with some
+curious and interesting characteristics.  For one thing he appeared
+constitutionally unable to proceed direct to a given point.  For
+instance, if Hampstead were his object, he would in all probability go
+to Charing Cross, take a 'bus along Strand, the tube to Piccadilly
+Circus, a taxi to Leicester Square, tube to Golders Green and 'bus to
+Hampstead.
+
+Another curious circumstance connected with Mr. Naylor was the number
+of people who seemed to stop him to enquire their way, obviously people
+who found it difficult to pronounce the names and addresses of those
+they sought, for they invariably held in their hands pieces of paper,
+which Mr. Naylor would read and then proceed to direct them.  This
+would occur in all parts of London.
+
+To the casual observer interested in the details of Mr. Naylor's life,
+it would have appeared that London waited for his approach, and then
+incontinently made a bee-line for him to enquire its way.  With smiling
+geniality Mr. Naylor would read the paper offered to him, make one or
+two remarks, then with a wave of his hand and a further genial smile
+proceed on his way.
+
+His courtesy was almost continental.  He would take great pains to
+direct the enquirer, sometimes even proceeding part of the way with him
+to ensure that he should not go astray.
+
+Since the war Mr. Naylor had patriotically given up his car, handing it
+over to the Red Cross, and receiving from the local secretary a letter
+of very genuine thanks and appreciation.  There had also been a
+paragraph in _The Streatham Herald_ notifying this splendid act of
+citizenship.
+
+In nothing was Mr. Naylor's sense of Christian charity so manifest as
+in the patience with which he answered the number of false rings he
+received on the telephone.  It was extraordinary the way in which wrong
+numbers seemed to be put through to him; yet his courtesy never forsook
+him.  His reply was always the same.  "No; I am Mr. Montague Naylor of
+Streatham."  It frequently happened that shortly after such a call Mr.
+Naylor would go out, when James would be left in the front garden.
+
+Mrs. Naylor had particular instructions always to make a note of any
+rings that came on the telephone during Mr. Naylor's absence, no matter
+whether they were for him or for anyone else.  She was to take down
+every word that was said, and always say in response that the
+subscriber was on to Mr. Naylor of Streatham.
+
+One morning whilst John Dene was giving down letters to Dorothy in his
+customary jerky manner, Mr. Naylor sat at breakfast, his attention
+equally divided between the meal and the morning paper.  Opposite sat
+Mrs. Naylor, watching him as a dog watches a master of uncertain
+temper.  She was a little woman with a colourless face, from which
+sparse grey hair was drawn with puritan severity.  In her weak blue
+eyes was fear--fear of her lord and master, and in her manner
+deprecation and apology.
+
+The only sound to be heard were the champing of Mr. Naylor's jaws, and
+the occasional rustle of the newspaper.  Mr. Naylor was a hearty eater
+and an omnivorous reader of newspapers.  In the front garden James gave
+occasional tongue, protesting against the existence of some passer-by.
+
+After a particularly vigorous bout of barking on James's part, Mr.
+Naylor looked up suddenly and, fixing Mrs. Naylor with astern eye,
+demanded, "Any post?"
+
+"I haven't heard the post-woman yet," faltered Mrs. Naylor
+apologetically.  She was at heart a pacifist in the domestic sense.
+
+"Go and see," was the gruff retort, as Mr. Naylor thrust into his mouth
+a large piece of bread, which he had previously wiped round his plate
+to absorb the elemental juices of the morning bacon.
+
+Mrs. Naylor rose meekly and left the room.  A few moments later she
+returned, carrying in her hand two envelopes.  Mr. Naylor looked up
+over his spectacles.
+
+"They were on the path," she explained timidly.  "James is in the
+garden."
+
+The post-woman had tacitly carried on the tradition of her predecessor,
+the postman.  If James were about, the letters went over the garden
+gate; if James were not about, they went into the letter-box.
+
+With a grunt Mr. Naylor snatched the letters from Mrs. Naylor's hand
+and looked at them keenly.  One bore a halfpenny stamp, and was
+consequently of no particular importance.  This he laid beside his
+plate.  The other, however, he subjected to a rigorous and elaborate
+examination.  He scrutinised the handwriting, examined carefully the
+postmark, turned it over and gazed at the fastening.  Then taking a
+letter-opener from his pocket, he slowly slit the top of the envelope,
+and taking out a sheet of notepaper unfolded it.
+
+"Gott----"  He bit off the phrase savagely, and looked up fiercely at
+Mrs. Naylor, as if she was responsible for his lapse.  Instinctively
+she shrank back.  From the garden James's vigorous barking swelled out
+into a fortissimo of protest.
+
+"Stop that dog," he shouted, whereat Mrs. Naylor rose and left the room.
+
+With scowling eyebrows Mr. Naylor read his letter, and ground his teeth
+with suppressed fury.
+
+"Der mann muss verrueckt 'sein."
+
+He re-read the letter, then placing it in his pocket looked across the
+table, seeming for the first time to notice that Mrs. Naylor had left
+the room.  Going to the door he opened it and shouted a peremptory
+"Here!"
+
+As Mrs. Naylor entered with obvious trepidation, he fixed her with a
+stern disapproving eye.
+
+"There's somebody coming this afternoon at four," he said.  "I'll see
+him in the study," and with that he once more drew the letter from his
+pocket and read it for the third time, whilst Mrs. Naylor withdrew.
+
+The letter which was typewritten, even to the signature, ran:
+
+
+'DEAR MR. NAYLOR,--
+
+"I hope to call upon you on Thursday afternoon at four o'clock.  I
+regret that unforseen circumstances have prevented me from giving
+myself this pleasure before.
+
+"Yours very truly,
+  "J. VAN HELDER."
+
+
+With a grumble in his throat Mr. Naylor walked out of the dining-room,
+across the hall and into his study.  Closing and locking the door he
+went over to his writing-table, and seemed to collapse into rather than
+sit on the chair.  He was oblivious to everything except the scrap of
+paper before him.  The cloud upon his brow seemed to intensify, his
+face became more cruel.  The Mr. Naylor of Streatham, patriot,
+philanthropist and good citizen, had vanished, giving place to a man in
+whose heart was anger and fear.
+
+At the end of five minutes he drew towards him a small metal tray.
+Taking a match from a stand, he struck it and deliberately setting
+light to the paper, held it while it burned.  When the flame seared his
+fingers, he placed the whole upon the metal dish, scowling at the paper
+as it writhed and crackled in its death agony.  He then proceeded to
+burn the envelope.  When both were reduced to twisted shapes of carbon,
+he opened a drawer, took from it a duster and pressed it down upon the
+metal plate, reducing the contents to black powder.
+
+Picking up the tray he carried it over to the grate, emptied the powder
+into the fireplace, wiped the tray and replaced it upon the table,
+thrusting the duster back into the drawer.  He then sank once more into
+his chair, conscious that the morning had begun ill.
+
+Ten minutes later he rose, unlocked the door and went out into the
+hall.  He took his hat from the stand and brushed it carefully.
+Picking up his gloves and umbrella, he gave a final look round, then
+composing his features for the outside world, he opened the door and
+passed out into Apthorpe Road.
+
+For such of his neighbours as he encountered he had a cheery word, a
+lifting of his hat, or a wave of the hand.  Housewives would sigh
+enviously as they saw Mr. Naylor pass genially on his way.  He was
+always the same, they told themselves, remembering with a little pang
+the vagaries of their own husbands.
+
+Before his return to "The Cedars" for lunch, Mr. Naylor with
+unaccustomed emphasis foretold the doom of the Government unless it
+immediately rushed a measure through Parliament for the internment of
+all aliens.  He was nothing if not thorough.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+MR. NAYLOR RECEIVES A VISITOR
+
+
+I
+
+"Height five feet six and a half inches."
+
+"Five feet eight, sir."
+
+"Chest thirty-eight."
+
+"Thirty-eight and a half, sir."
+
+"Weight eleven stone nine."
+
+"Twelve stone, sir."
+
+"Near enough."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Thompson.
+
+"You've got everything?"
+
+"Down to his under-wear, sir," was the response.
+
+"The ring?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Malcolm Sage looked up from the buff-coloured paper before him, then
+picking up a photograph from the table, proceeded to study it with
+great intentness.
+
+"Yes," he said, "Finlay can do it."
+
+At that moment Colonel Walton strode into the room, smoking the
+inevitable cigar.  Thompson straightened himself to attention, Malcolm
+Sage nodded, then once more became absorbed in the photograph.
+
+"I hear Finlay's here," said Colonel Walton.
+
+Sage looked up and nodded.  "We've just been checking his
+measurements," he said.
+
+"With that Bergen fellow's?"
+
+Sage nodded.
+
+"It's a considerable risk," said Colonel Walton.
+
+"Finlay likes 'em," retorted Sage without looking up.  "I'd give a good
+deal to solve that little mystery."
+
+The mystery to which Malcolm Sage referred was the arrest of a man on a
+Bergen-Hull boat some ten days previously.  Although his passport and
+papers were in order, his story when he had been interrogated was not
+altogether satisfactory.  It had been decided to deport him; but
+Malcolm Sage, who had subjected him to a lengthy cross-examination, had
+decided that it would be better to detain him for the time being, and
+the suspect was consequently lodged in the Tower.  Both Malcolm Sage
+and Colonel Walton were convinced that he had been sent over on a
+special mission.
+
+"Where's Finlay?" asked Colonel Walton.
+
+"He's painting the lily," said Sage with a glint in his eye.
+
+"In other words?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+"Seeing how near he can get to this Bergen fellow.  I took him down to
+the Tower to see the men together."
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.
+
+Malcolm Sage regarded disguise as exclusively the asset of the
+detective of fiction.  A disguise, he maintained, could always be
+identified, although not necessarily penetrated.  Few men could
+disguise their walk or bearing, no matter how clever they might be with
+the aid of false beards and wigs.
+
+"You remember the lost code-book?" Sage queried.
+
+"I do," said Colonel Walton.
+
+"A remarkable piece of work of Finlay's," continued Sage.  "It wasn't a
+disguise, it was an alteration; trim of moustache, cut and colour of
+hair, darkened skin and such trifles."
+
+"And the black eye, sir," interpolated Thompson.
+
+"That was certainly a happy stroke," cried Colonel Walton.
+
+"It takes a good deal of moral courage to black your own eye," said
+Sage quietly.  "I tried it once myself."
+
+"How do you plan to proceed?"  It was Colonel Walton who spoke.
+
+"If Naylor is really the man we're after and this Bergen fellow is on a
+secret mission, then it's pretty sure they were intended to get into
+touch."  Sage paused for a moment, then added: "Anyhow, it's worth
+trying.  It's a risk, of course.  Naylor may have met him before."
+
+"The risk will be mainly Finlay's," said Colonel Walton drily, as he
+smoked meditatively.
+
+"It would be yours or mine, chief, only nature cast us in a different
+mould."
+
+For some moments Colonel Walton did not reply.
+
+"I don't like sending a man on a----"  He paused.
+
+"There's no question of sending Finlay; it's more a matter of holding
+him back.  By the way," he continued casually, "Thompson burgled John
+Dene's place last night, got a set of plans, the chit signed by Sir
+Lyster and the Skipper, and one or two other papers that should be
+useful."
+
+"I don't quite like it, Sage."  Colonel Walton knitted his brows.
+
+"It's giving the Yard something to do," was Sage's indifferent retort.
+"They're buzzing about John Dene like flies to-day.  He's expressing
+himself to them in choice Canadian too, so Thompson tells me."
+
+Thompson gave an appreciative grin.
+
+"I dropped in there this morning, sir, and----"  He did not conclude
+his sentence; but his look was one of keen appreciation.  "He's got
+some words, has Inspector Bluggers," he added, "but Mr. Dene left him
+standing."
+
+"We've just been going over the points of Finlay and the Bergen man,"
+explained Sage.  "They're pretty well in agreement.  Personally I
+believe there's a lot in that ring.  We stripped the other fellow of
+his clothes, Finlay insisted on having them baked.  Fussy sort of chap
+in things like that," he added, "but that ring.  Men don't generally
+wear turquoises set in an eccentric pattern.  Ha!"  He looked up
+suddenly.
+
+Colonel Walton looked across at him interrogatingly.
+
+"You remember the initials inside, chief?"
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.
+
+"D.U.A. weren't they?"
+
+"What about Deutsches ueber alles?"
+
+"A bit obvious," suggested Colonel Walton.
+
+"The Hun always is."
+
+There was a knock at the door.
+
+"Come in," called Colonel Walton.
+
+A moment later there entered a man of foreign appearance, with dark
+well-brushed hair, sallow skin and the deprecating manner of one who is
+in a country where he is not quite sure either of the customs or of the
+language.  For a moment he stood smiling.
+
+Malcolm Sage caught Colonel Walton's eye.  Upon Thompson's face there
+spread a grin of admiration.
+
+"Wonderful, Finlay," said Colonel Walton.  "Wonderful."
+
+"You think it is like?" enquired he who had been addressed as Finlay.
+
+"Wonderful," repeated Colonel Walton, "but," he added a moment after,
+"it's a dangerous game."
+
+Finlay shrugged his shoulders in a manner that was almost aggressively
+un-English.  He possessed one remarkable characteristic, once he had
+assumed a personality, he continued to be that man until he finally
+relinquished the part.
+
+"He'll put you to sleep if you make a mistake," said Sage with
+uncompromising candour.
+
+Again the shrug of the shoulders.
+
+"That ring," said Sage, pointing to a flat gold band on the third
+finger of the left hand in which were set three turquoises in the form
+of a triangle.  "What do you make of the inscription?"
+
+"I do not know," said Finlay with the finnicking inflection of one
+talking in a strange tongue.
+
+"What about Deutsches ueber alles?" suggested Walton.
+
+"Ah! you have discovered."
+
+"Perfect," said Sage, "absolutely perfect.  You're a genius, Finlay."
+
+With a smile and a half-shrug of his shoulders, Finlay deprecated the
+compliment.
+
+"Where are you going to stay?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+"At the Ritzton with John Dene, same floor if possible," said Sage.
+"He starts from the Tower to-morrow.  Released, you know."
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.  "By the way, Thompson, you didn't happen to
+drop any finger prints about in Waterloo Place?"
+
+"Rubber gloves, sir," said Thompson with a smile.
+
+Malcolm Sage nodded.
+
+"It would embarrass us a bit if you got lodged in Brixton prison," said
+Colonel Walton.
+
+"No chance of that, sir," was the confident retort.
+
+"The account will be in the papers this afternoon, I understand."
+
+Malcolm Sage nodded.
+
+"Well, Finlay," said Walton, "off you go and the best of luck.  If you
+bring this off you ought to get a C.B.E."
+
+"Gott in himmel!" cried Finlay in such tragic consternation, that both
+Colonel Walton and Sage were forced to smile.
+
+"No, sir," said Sage drily, "we must guard Department Z. against the
+Order of the British Empire; it deserves well of the country.
+
+"When does he go to Streatham?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+"I go now," responded Finlay, "if I find the place.  These suburbs!"
+He rolled his eyes expressively.
+
+Malcolm Sage smiled grimly.
+
+
+II
+
+For some time Mr. Naylor had sat staring in front of him, immobile but
+for the movement of his eyes and the compression of his pouch-like lips
+as he swallowed.  Irritation or anxiety always caused him to swallow
+with a noisy gulp-like sound.
+
+Since lunch he had scowled impartially upon everything.  Mrs. Naylor,
+Susan, James, the paper, his food, all seemed to come under the ban of
+his displeasure.  From time to time he muttered under his breath.  He
+made several efforts to concentrate upon the newspaper before him, but
+without success.  His eyes would wander from the page and scowl into
+vacancy.  The heavy jowls seemed to mould his face into a brutal
+square, which with his persistent swallowing gave him the appearance of
+a toad.
+
+His original anger at the threatened advent of a visitor seemed to have
+changed into irritation at his non-arrival.  From time to time he
+looked at his watch.  A step echoing in the street brought him to a
+listening attitude.  When at last a ring sounded at the bell, followed
+by a peremptory "rat-tat," he started violently.  He listened intently
+to the pad of Mrs. Naylor's footsteps along the passage, to the murmur
+of voices that followed, and the sound of steps approaching.
+
+When the door opened, the scowl had fled from Mr. Naylor's features,
+the jowls had lifted, the set frown had passed from his brows.  His
+mouth was pursed up into a smile only one degree less repellent than
+the look that it had replaced.  Mr. Naylor had assumed his best
+public-meeting manner.
+
+"Mr. Van Helder?" he queried, as he shook hands and motioned his
+visitor to a seat.
+
+"We shall not be overheard, no?" interrogated Van Helder.
+
+Mr. Naylor shook his head, transferring his eyes from a paper-weight
+before him to his visitor's face and back again to the paper-weight.
+
+"These London suburbs!" exclaimed Van Helder, as he drew a silk
+handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to wipe his face.  "I seem
+to have pursued you to everywhere.  I crossed from Bergen on the 21st,"
+he added with a smile.
+
+"The 21st," repeated Mr. Naylor.
+
+"Just ten days ago," continued Van Helder.  "I came not before
+because----"  He raised his eyes suddenly and looked straight at Mr.
+Naylor, who smiled; but there was guile behind the momentary exposure
+of his yellow teeth.
+
+"The crossing," continued Van Helder, "three times the alarm of
+U-boats."  He smiled a crafty little smile.  "The Germans they make the
+sea unsafe."  Again he smiled.
+
+"So you have been in London since the 21st."  Mr. Naylor's tone was
+casual; but his eyes glinted.
+
+Van Helder nodded indifferently.
+
+"Where are you staying?"  Mr. Naylor's eyes never left his visitor's
+face.
+
+"At the Ritzton."
+
+"You have been comfortable?"  The tone was conversational.
+
+Again Van Helder shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"You have been seeing the sights?"  Again the tone was casual; but in
+Mr. Naylor's eyes there was a crafty look.
+
+"It is as I have been told," said Van Helder with a smile.  "Always
+cautious.  You are fond of dogs," he added irrelevantly, "I heard one."
+
+"James does not like strangers."  This with a sinister smile.
+
+"No?" continued the other; taking a cigarette-case from his pocket and
+offering it to Mr. Naylor who declined.  "I may smoke?"
+
+Mr. Naylor nodded.
+
+Van Helder lighted a cigarette and proceeded to blow smoke rings with
+quiet content.  He wanted to think.  It was obvious to him that
+something was wrong, something lacking.  There was the suggestion in
+his host's manner of a cat watching a mouse, watching and waiting.
+
+"You are becoming, how do you call it, ungeschickt," he said with a
+disarming smile, as he blew three rings in rapid succession.
+
+"You think so?" Mr. Naylor smiled amiably.
+
+"Yes, how do you call it, awkward, clumsy.  You have lived long in
+England," he continued a little contemptuously, as he ejected more
+smoke-rings.
+
+"You find London interesting?" asked Mr. Naylor, with ominous calm.  He
+was determined to pick up the thread of conversation that had been
+snatched from his hand.
+
+"You are a fool."  Van Helder turned just as he emitted a smoke-ring.
+At the calm insolence of his tone Mr. Naylor started slightly, but
+quickly recovered himself.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I have been in the Tower."  For the fraction of a second Van Helder's
+eyes sought those of Mr. Naylor.  Was it relief that he saw?  The
+change was only momentary, just a flash.
+
+Van Helder continued to blow smoke-rings as if entirely indifferent
+alike to his host's presence and emotions.  "I was released yesterday
+morning.  They apologised for my detention."
+
+"And you came here?" f Mr. Naylor's voice was even and devoid of
+inflection.
+
+Deliberately Van Helder took from his pocket a gold ring set with three
+turquoises in the form of a triangle.  It was his last card.
+
+"Ah!  I see you look at my ring," he said, seeing Mr. Naylor's eyes fix
+greedily upon it.  "It was given to me by one whom I serve."
+Deliberately he drew it from his finger again and handed it to Mr.
+Naylor, who took it casually and proceeded to examine it.  The other
+watched him closely.  Yes; he was looking at the inscription on the
+inside.
+
+"They are not my initials," said Van Helder.
+
+Mr. Naylor looked up quickly.  "No," he said, returning the ring.
+
+The other shrugged his shoulders without replying.  Mr. Naylor's manner
+had undergone a change.
+
+"And now about John Dene.  Ah!" as one smoke-ring passed through
+another.
+
+"John Dene!"
+
+"Yes, of Toronto," continued Van Helder, smiling and continuing to blow
+rings with apparent enjoyment.  "He is staying at the Ritzton, too."
+
+"London is full of visitors."
+
+"My friend, we waste time.  There is such a thing as over-caution.  As
+I say you are ungeschickt.  There was that affair of John Dene's lunch.
+Such things will not please those----"  He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+For fully a minute Naylor gazed at him quietly, searchingly.
+
+"There was then the chocolates and the girl."
+
+"I do not understand."  Mr. Naylor looked across at him craftily.
+
+"We waste time, I know.  I will tell you.  The secretary, you make your
+woman offer her chocolates at a tea-shop, and to go for a ride in a
+taxi.  The chocolates----"  He shrugged his shoulders expressively.
+"She refuses.  You are clumsy."
+
+The contemptuous insolence of his visitor seemed to impress Mr. Naylor.
+The look of suspicion in his eyes became less marked.
+
+"How did you know?" he asked, still wary.
+
+"We waste time," was the response with a wave of the hand.
+
+For a few moments Mr. Naylor sat watching Van Helder as he continued to
+blow rings with manifest content.
+
+"Listen," continued Van Helder.  "John Dene has brought over here an
+invention, a submarine that is to end the war.  He has given it to the
+Admiralty."
+
+"Given it!" involuntarily repeated Mr. Naylor.
+
+"Given it.  There are patriots even in England.  You think he is trying
+to sell it, therefore you try to remove him."
+
+"Not selling it."  Mr. Naylor leaned slightly forward.
+
+"He gives it on condition that he commands it with his own men.  It
+makes easy the matter."
+
+"Then it is true what----"  Mr. Naylor stopped.
+
+"How did you learn this?"  He slobbered his words slightly as he spoke.
+
+"I know things, it is my duty," was the response.
+
+"But what proof----?"
+
+With great deliberation Van Helder drew from his pocket a large
+envelope; extracting a single sheet of paper he handed it across the
+table.  Mr. Naylor snatched it eagerly and proceeded to devour it with
+his eyes.  "I also got a set of plans of a submarine; but it was one of
+our own.  He is clever, this man."
+
+"How did you get it?"
+
+Van Helder smiled.  "How did you get the copy?" he enquired.
+
+"The copy!  How did you know?"
+
+Mr. Naylor stared at him, his jaw a little dropped.  He swallowed
+noisily.
+
+"You have been clumsy," repeated Van Helder.  "You try to kill the cock
+that lays the eggs of gold."  He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.
+
+Mr. Naylor flushed angrily.  "And you?" he almost snarled.
+
+"I am here to watch."  He looked across at Mr. Naylor with a cunning
+smile.  He was at last sure of his ground.
+
+"Watch who?"
+
+Van Helder shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded to light a new
+cigarette from the burning end of the old one.
+
+"You must not kill--yet," he said, gazing at the end of his cigarette
+to see that it was well alight.
+
+"What then?" demanded Mr. Naylor.  His jowls had returned and the
+yellow of his teeth was visible between his slightly parted lips.
+
+"Wait and watch," was the reply.
+
+"And let him go North," sneered the other.
+
+"If you kill, where are the plans?  Do as you would," he continued
+indifferently.  "There will be The Day for you, too.  Now I go."  He
+made a movement to rise; but Mr. Naylor motioned him back into his
+chair.
+
+Two hours later Mr. Naylor himself let out his visitor.  Closing the
+front door, he returned to his study, where for an hour he sat at his
+table gazing straight in front of him.  Mr. Naylor was puzzled.
+
+Conscious that he was being followed by a small man in a grey suit with
+shifty eyes, James Finlay made his way leisurely to the High Road where
+he took a 'bus bound for Piccadilly Circus.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+DOROTHY WEST AT HOME
+
+"Mother mine," cried Dorothy West, as she withdrew the pins from her
+hat, "John Dene's a dear, and I think his passion for me is developing."
+
+"Dorothy!" cried Mrs. West, a tiny white-haired lady whose face still
+retained traces of youthful beauty.
+
+"You needn't be shocked, lovie; John Dene is as worthy as his namesake
+in _Evangeline_."  She laughed lightly.  "Now I must eat.  John Dene's
+like sea air, he's so stimulating;" and she began to eat the dinner
+that Mrs. West always prepared with such care.
+
+For some minutes she watched with a smile of approval her daughter's
+healthy appetite.
+
+"I think I should like Mr. Dene, Dorothy," she said at length.  "I have
+always heard that Canadians are very nice to women.  You must ask him
+to call."
+
+"Oh, you funny little mother!" she laughed.  "You forget that we have
+come down in the world, and that I'm a typist."
+
+"A secretary, dear," corrected Mrs. West gently.
+
+"Well, secretary, then; but even a secretary doesn't invite her
+employer to tea, even when the tea is as mother makes it.  It's not
+done, so the less that's said of John, I think, the better," she quoted
+gaily.  "Oh! by the way," she added, "you might get his goat; Sir
+Lyster does."
+
+"His goat, dear!"  Mrs. West looked up with a puzzled expression.
+
+Dorothy explained the allusion.  She went on to tell of some of the
+doings of John Dene, his impatience, his indifference to and contempt
+for constituted authority.  In short she added a few vivid side-lights
+to the picture she had already given her mother of how John Dene had
+come and carried all before him.
+
+"I think," she said in conclusion, screwing up her pretty features,
+"that John Dene is rather a dear."  Then after a pause she added, "You
+see, he is also a man."
+
+"A man, my dear," questioned Mrs. West, looking at her daughter with a
+smile.
+
+"Yes, mother, he's so intensely masculine.  I get so fed up with----"
+
+"Dorothy!" expostulated Mrs. West.
+
+"Yes, I know it's trying, mother, but I get so weary of the subaltern
+and junior naval officer.  Of course they're splendid and brave; but
+they don't seem men."
+
+"But think of how they have given their lives," began Mrs. West.
+
+"Yes; but we see those who haven't, mother, and very few of them have
+chevrons on their sleeves.  Now John Dene is quite different.  He
+always seems to be a man; yet he never forgets that you are a woman,
+although he never appears to be conscious of your being a woman."
+
+Dorothy caught her mother's eye, and laughed.
+
+"Of course it sounds utterly ridiculous I know; but there it is, and
+then think of what----"  She suddenly broke off.
+
+"Yes, dear," said Mrs. West gently.
+
+"I was nearly letting out official secrets, mother.  Of course I
+mustn't do that, must I?"
+
+"Of course not, dear," said Mrs. West.
+
+"Yes," continued Dorothy, her head on one side, "I like John Dene.  It
+must be ripping to be able to bully a First Lord of the Admiralty," she
+added irrelevantly.
+
+"Bully a First Lord," said Mrs. West.  Mrs. West seemed to be in a
+perpetual state of repeating in a bewildered manner her daughter's
+startling statements.
+
+"He doesn't care for anybody.  He calls Mr. Blair, that's Sir Lyster's
+secretary, the prize seal, and I'm sure he takes a delight in
+frightening the poor man.  That's the best of being a Canadian, you see
+you don't care a damn----"
+
+"Dorothy!"  There was horror in Mrs. West's voice.
+
+"I'm so sorry, mother dear; but it slipped out, you know, and really
+it's such an awfully convenient word, isn't it?  It's so different from
+not caring a bother, or not caring a blow.  Anyway, when you're a
+Canadian you don't care a--well you know, for anybody.  If a man
+happens to be a lord or a duke, you're rude to him just to show that
+you're as good as he is.  Sometimes, mother, I wish I were a Canadian,"
+said Dorothy pensively.  "I should so like to 'ginger-up' Sir Lyster."
+
+"Your language, my dear," said Mrs. West gently.
+
+"Oh, that's John Dene," said Dorothy airily.  "That's his favourite
+expression, 'ginger-up.'  He came over here to 'ginger-up' the
+Admiralty, and in fact 'ginger-up' anybody who didn't very strongly
+object to being 'gingered-up,' and those who did, well he gingers them
+up just the same.  You should see poor Mr. Blair under the process."
+Dorothy laughed as she thought of Mr. Blair's sufferings.  "The girls
+call him 'Oh, Reginald!' and he looks it," she added.
+
+Mrs. West smiled vaguely, finding it a little difficult to follow her
+daughter along these paths of ultra-modernism.
+
+"You see, if Sir Lyster says to me 'go,' I have to go," continued
+Dorothy, "and if he says to me 'come,' I have to come; but if he says
+to John Dene 'go,' he just says 'shucks.'"
+
+"Says what, Dorothy?"
+
+"Shucks!" she repeated with a laugh, "it means go to--well, you know,
+mother."
+
+"And does he say that to Sir Lyster?" enquired Mrs. West in awe-struck
+voice.
+
+Dorothy nodded vigorously.
+
+"The only one that seems to understand him is Sir Bridgman North, and
+he never stands on his dignity, you know.  If I were in the Navy," said
+Dorothy meditatively, "I should like to be under Sir Bridgman, he's
+really rather a dear."
+
+"But why do----" began Mrs. West, "why does Sir Lyster allow----"
+
+"Allow," broke in Dorothy.  "It doesn't matter what you allow with John
+Dene.  If you agree with him he just grunts; if you don't he says
+'shucks,' or else he questions whether you've got any head-filling."
+
+"Any what?" asked Mrs. West.
+
+"Head-filling, that means brains.  Oh, you've got an awful lot to
+learn," she added, nodding at her mother in mock despair.  "I think
+John Dene very clever," she added.
+
+"Dorothy, you mustn't call him 'John Dene."
+
+"He's always called 'John Dene,'" said Dorothy.  "You can't think of
+him as anything but John Dene, and do you know, mother, all the other
+girls are so intrigued.  They're always asking me how I get on with
+'the bear,' as they call him.  That's because he doesn't take any
+notice of them, except Marjorie Rogers, and she's as cheeky as a robin."
+
+"But he isn't a bear, is he, Dorothy?"
+
+"A bear?  He's the most polite creature that ever existed," said
+Dorothy--"when he remembers it," she added after a moment's pause.
+"You see they all expect me to marry him."
+
+"Dorothy!"
+
+"I'm not so sure that they're wrong, either," she added naively.  "You
+see, he's got plenty of money and----"
+
+"I don't like to hear you talk like that, dear," said Mrs. West gravely.
+
+"Oh, I'm horrid, aren't I?" she cried, running over to her mother and
+putting her arm round her neck.  "What a dreadful thing it must be for
+you, poor mother mine, to have such a daughter!  She outrages all the
+dear old Victorian conventions, doesn't she?"
+
+"You mustn't talk like that, Dorothy dear," said Mrs. West.  There was
+in her voice that which told her daughter she was in earnest.
+
+"All right, mother dear, I won't; you know my bark is worse than my
+bite, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, but dear----"
+
+"You see, way down, as John Dene would say, in his own heart there is
+chivalry, and that is very, very rare nowadays among men.  He is much
+nicer to me than he would be to Lady Grayne, or Mrs. Llewellyn John, or
+to the Queen herself, I believe.  I'm sure he likes me," added Dorothy
+half to herself.  "You see," she added, "he broke my teapot, and he
+owes me something for that, doesn't he?"
+
+"Dorothy, you are very naughty."  There was no rebuke in Mrs. West's
+voice.
+
+"And you're wondering how it came about that such a dear, sweet,
+conventional, lovely, Victorian symbol of respectability and convention
+should have had such a dreadfully outrageous daughter as Dorothy West.
+Now confess, mother, aren't you?"
+
+Mrs. West merely smiled the indulgent smile that Dorothy always
+interpreted into forgiveness for her lapses, past, present and to come.
+
+"You see, mother, John Dene has got it into his head that we're
+hopelessly out of date," she said.  "He's quite sincere.  He thinks
+we're fools, Sir Lyster, Sir Bridgman and the whole lot of us, and as
+for poor Mr. Blair, he knows he's a fool.  He thinks that Mr. Llewellyn
+John is almost a fool, in fact he's sure in his own mind that unless
+you happen to be born a Canadian you're a fool and can't help it.  He's
+quite nice about it, because it really isn't your fault."
+
+"I'm afraid he must be very narrow-minded," said Mrs. West gently.
+
+"No, he isn't, that's where it's so funny, it's just his idea.  He
+looks upon himself as a heaven-sent corrective to the British
+Government.  I'm afraid poor John Dene is going to have a nasty jar
+before he's through, as he would say himself."
+
+"How do you mean, Dorothy?" enquired Mrs. West.
+
+"I mustn't say any more, because I should be divulging official
+secrets.  The other girls are so curious to know what is happening.
+Bishy, that's Miss Bishcroft, asked me whether John Dene made love to
+me, and Rojjie is sure that he kisses me."  Dorothy rippled off into
+laughter.
+
+"How impertinent of her!"  Mrs. West was shocked.
+
+"It wasn't impertinence, mother, it was funny.  If you could only see
+John Dene, and imagine him making love to anyone.  It really is funny.
+Sometimes I sit and wonder if he knows how to kiss a girl."
+
+"Dorothy, you are----" began Mrs. West.
+
+"Why shouldn't we be frank and open about such matters?  Every man
+kisses a girl at some time during his life, except John Dene," she
+added.  "In Whitehall it's nothing but minutes and kisses.  Why
+shouldn't we talk about it?  It's helping to win the war.  It's so
+silly to hide everything in that silly Victorian way of ours.  If a
+nice girl meets a nice man she wants him to kiss her, and she's
+disappointed if he doesn't.  Now isn't she?" challenged Dorothy as she
+perched herself upon the arm of her mother's chair and looked down at
+her, her eyebrows and mouth screwed up, impertinent and provocative.
+
+"I wish you wouldn't talk like that, dear," said Mrs. West, as she
+regarded her daughter's pretty features.
+
+"Why, mother?" she enquired, bending and brushing a swift kiss upon her
+mother's white hair.
+
+"It--it doesn't seem----" she paused, then added rather weakly, "it
+doesn't seem quite nice."
+
+Dorothy jumped up and stood before her mother, smiling mischievously.
+
+"And so you don't think I'm quite nice, Mrs. West?"  She made an
+elaborate curtsey.  "Thank you very much indeed.  At the Admiralty
+there are quite a lot of young men, and some old ones, too, who don't
+agree with you," she added, returning to her chair.
+
+"But you mustn't say such--such things," protested Mrs. West weakly.
+
+"But, mother, when you were a girl and knew a nice man, didn't you want
+him to kiss you?"
+
+"We never thought about such things.  We----"
+
+"Didn't you want father to kiss you?" persisted Dorothy.
+
+"We were engaged, my dear, and your dear father was so----"
+
+"But before you were engaged.  Suppose father had tried to kiss you.
+What would you have done?"
+
+The girl's eyes were on her mother, mischievous and challenging.  A
+faint blush tinged Mrs. West's cheeks.
+
+"I'll tell you what you'd have done, you dear, naughty little mother.
+You'd have pretended to be shocked, but in your heart you would have
+been glad, and you'd have lain awake all night thinking what an awful
+rip you had been."  She nodded her head wisely.
+
+"Sometimes," said Mrs. West after a pause, "I wish it had not been
+necessary for you to work.  Girls seem so different nowadays from what
+they were when I was young."
+
+"We are, you dear little mouse," smiled Dorothy.  "We know a lot more,
+and to be forewarned is to be forearmed.  I'm glad I didn't live when
+you had to faint at the sight of a mouse, or swoon when you were
+kissed.  It would be such a waste," she added gaily.
+
+Mrs. West sighed, conscious that a new age of womanhood had dawned with
+which she was out of touch.
+
+"Mother," said Dorothy presently, "what made you love father?"
+
+Mrs. West looked up in surprise at her daughter, but continued to fold
+her napkin and place it in her ring before replying.
+
+"Because your father, Dorothy, was----" she hesitated.
+
+"My father," suggested Dorothy.
+
+Mrs. West smiled; but there was a far-away look in her eyes.
+"Everybody loved your father," she went on a moment later.
+
+"Yes, mother, but everybody didn't marry him," she said practically.
+
+"Noooo----" hesitated Mrs. West.
+
+"But you mean to say that everybody would have liked to marry him."
+
+"He was very wonderful," said Mrs. West, a note of sadness creeping
+into her voice.
+
+"But you haven't answered my question," persisted Dorothy.  "Why is it
+that we women love men?"
+
+Mrs. West was not conscious of the quaint phrasing of her daughter's
+remark.
+
+"We don't love men, Dorothy," she cried, "we love a man, the right man."
+
+"But," persisted Dorothy, "why do we do it?  They're not pretty and
+they're not very interesting," she emphasised the "very," "and only a
+few of them are clever.  Sometimes in the Tube coming home I see a girl
+and a man holding hands.  What is it that makes them want to hold
+hands?"
+
+"It's natural to fall in love," said Mrs. West gently.
+
+"But that's not falling in love," protested Dorothy scornfully.  "If I
+fell in love with a man I shouldn't want to hold his hand in a train.
+I should hate him if he expected it."
+
+"It's a question of class," said Mrs. West a little primly.
+
+"Oh! mother, what an awful snob you are," cried Dorothy, jumping up and
+going round and giving her mother a hug.  "Let's go into the
+drawing-room and be comfy and have a chat."
+
+When they were seated, Mrs. West in an armchair and Dorothy on a stool
+at her feet, the girl continued her interrogations.  "Now suppose," she
+continued, "I were to fall in love with a man who was ugly,
+ill-mannered, badly dressed, with very little to say for himself.  Why
+should I do it?"  Dorothy looked challengingly up at her mother.
+
+"But you wouldn't, dear," said Mrs. West with gentle conviction.
+
+"Oh, mother, you're awfully trying you know," she cried in mock
+despair.  "You've got to suppose that I have, or could.  Why should I
+do it?"  Mrs. West gazed at her daughter a little anxiously, then shook
+her head.
+
+"Now I can quite understand," went on Dorothy, half to herself, "why a
+man should fall in love with me.  I'm pretty and bright, wear nice
+things, particularly underneath----"
+
+"Dorothy!" broke in Mrs. West in a tone of shocked protest.
+
+She laughed.  "Oh, mother, you're a dreadful prude.  Why do you think
+girls wear pretty shoes and stockings, and low cut blouses as thin as a
+cobweb?"
+
+"Hush!  Dorothy, you mustn't say such things."  There was pain in Mrs.
+West's voice.
+
+"I wish we could face facts," said Dorothy with a sigh.  "You see,
+mother dear," she continued, "when you're in a government office, with
+heaps of other girls and men about, you get to know things, see things,
+and sometimes you get to hate things."
+
+"I have always regretted," began Mrs. West sadly.
+
+"You mustn't do that, mother dear," cried Dorothy; "it has been an
+education.  But what I want to know is, what is it in a man that
+attracts a girl?"
+
+"Goodness, honour and----" began Mrs. West.
+
+"No, it isn't," said Dorothy, "at least they don't attract me."
+
+Mrs. West looked pained but said nothing.
+
+"You see," continued Dorothy, "there are such a lot of good men about,
+and honourable men, and--and--they're so dreadfully dull and
+monotonous.  I couldn't marry that sort of man," she added with
+conviction.
+
+"But----" began Mrs. West.  "You wouldn't----"
+
+Then she paused.
+
+"I can't explain it, mother," she said, "but I should hate to be doing
+the same thing always."
+
+"But we are doing the same things always, Dorothy," said Mrs. West.
+
+"Oh! no we're not," protested Dorothy.  "I never know until I get home
+on Saturday where I'm going to take you.  Now if I had a husband, a
+good and honourable husband, he would begin about Thursday saying that
+on Saturday afternoon we would go to Hampstead, or to Richmond, or
+to--oh! anywhere.  Then when Saturday came I should hate the very name
+of the place he had chosen.  Then on Sunday we should go to church in
+the morning, for a walk in the afternoon, pay a call or two, then
+church or a cinema in the evening.  That's good and honourable married
+life," she concluded with decision.
+
+Mrs. West looked down with a puzzled expression on her face.
+
+"Wait a minute, mother," said Dorothy.  "Now we'll imagine the real me
+married to a good and honourable man.  At twelve-thirty on the Saturday
+that he has arranged to lose himself and me at the maze at Hampton
+Court, I telephone to say that we're going to Brighton, and that he's
+to meet me at Victoria at half-past one, and I'll bring his things.
+Now what do you think he'd do?"  With head on one side she gazed
+challengingly at her mother.
+
+"I--I don't know," faltered Mrs. West.
+
+"I do," said Dorothy with conviction.  "He'd have a fit.  Then if I
+wanted him to come for a 'bus ride just as he was going to bed," went
+on Dorothy, "he'd have another fit; and if one fine morning, just as he
+was off to the office, I were to ask him not to go, but to take me to
+Richmond instead, he'd have a third fit, and then I should be a widow."
+
+"A widow!" questioned Mrs. West.  "What are you talking about?"
+
+"Third fits are always fatal, mother," she said wisely.  Then with a
+laugh she added, "Oh, there's a great time in store for the man who
+marries Dorothy West.  He will have to have a strong heart, a robust
+constitution and above all any amount of stamina," and she gave a
+mischievous little chuckle of joy.  Then a moment after, looking
+gravely at her mother she said, "You must have been very wicked, lovie,
+or you'd never have had such a daughter to plague you.  I'm your
+cross;" but Mrs. West merely smiled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+DEPARTMENT Z. AT WORK
+
+"Naylor isn't satisfied then."  Colonel Walton glanced across at
+Malcolm Sage, who was gazing appreciatively at his long, lender fingers.
+
+"He's the shyest bird I've ever come across," said Sage without looking
+up.  "He gave Finlay a rare wigging for that call.  Now he's having him
+watched."
+
+"I expected that," said Colonel Walton, engrossed in cutting the end of
+a cigar.
+
+"I think it's jealousy," continued Sage.  "He's afraid of the special
+agent getting all the kudos--and the plunder," he added.  "It was a
+happy chance getting that Bergen chap."
+
+"I'm rather concerned about Finlay," said Colonel Walton.
+
+"Good man, Finlay."  There was a note of admiration in Sage's voice.
+"He's quite cut adrift from us.  He's nothing if not thorough.  I can't
+get in touch with him."
+
+"Of course he knows?"
+
+"That he's being watched?  Yes."
+
+"Who's looking after him?"
+
+"Hoyle."  Sage drew his pipe from his pocket and proceeded to charge it
+from a chamois-leather tobacco-pouch.  "I've had to call Thompson off,
+I think they linked him up with us."
+
+"That's a pity," said Colonel Walton, gazing at the end of his cigar.
+"He's a better man than Hoyle."
+
+"It's that little chap they've got," continued Sage, "lives at
+Wimbledon, retired commercial-traveller, clever devil."  Malcolm Sage
+never grudged praise to an opponent.
+
+"How about John Dene?"
+
+"He's not taking any risks," said Sage, as he applied a match to his
+pipe.  "But they'll never let him go north."
+
+"Then we must prevent him."
+
+"Perhaps you'd like to take on that little job, chief."  There was a
+momentary suspicion of a twinkle in Sage's eye before a volume of
+tobacco smoke blotted it out.
+
+"I'm afraid it'll force our hand," said Colonel Walton.
+
+"That burglary business complicated things," said Sage, as he sucked in
+his lips, with him a sign of annoyance.  "It was a mistake to keep it
+dark."
+
+"That was Sir Lyster."
+
+"It made Naylor suspicious."
+
+"Has Finlay seen him since?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+"Naylor must have given him the secret-code.  They've met several
+times; but I believe Naylor is determined to act on his own.  He's a
+weird creature.  I wish I could get in touch with Finlay, however."
+
+"Why not try the taxi?"
+
+"I've had Rogers following him round all the time; but Finlay hasn't
+once taken a taxi."
+
+"I'm afraid he's taking a big risk----" began Colonel Walton.  "That
+Naylor fellow----"  He paused.
+
+Sage nodded.
+
+During the previous ten days Department Z. had learned a great deal
+about the comings and goings of Mr. Montagu Naylor of Streatham.  It
+had become manifest to Sage that he had to do with a man who had
+reduced cunning and caution to a fine art.  His every act seemed to
+have been carefully thought out beforehand, not only in relation to
+himself, but to what might grow directly out of it.
+
+During a walk he would sometimes turn suddenly and proceed swiftly in
+the direction from which he had come, as if he had forgotten something,
+looking keenly at every one he passed.  At others he would step into a
+shop, where he could be seen keeping a careful watch through the
+window.  A favourite trick was to walk briskly round a corner, then
+stop and look in some shop window with a small mirror held in the palm
+of his hand.
+
+From the first Malcolm Sage had realised that the conventional methods
+of shadowing a suspect would be useless for his purpose.  Those in whom
+Department Z. were interested would be old hands at the game, and to
+set a single person to watch them would inevitably result in the
+discovery of what was afoot.  He therefore set at least three men, or
+women, to dog the footsteps of the suspect.
+
+These would follow each other at intervals of from twenty-five to a
+hundred yards, according to the district in which they were operating.
+At a signal that the first in the line was dropping out, the trail
+would be taken up by number two, who in turn would relinquish the work
+to number three.  Sometimes as many as six were allocated to one
+shadowing.
+
+This method had the additional advantage of enabling the Department to
+assure itself that the watchers were not in turn being watched.
+
+It was no uncommon thing for a suspect to arrange to have himself
+shadowed in order to ascertain whether or no there were any one on his
+track.  This was a favourite device with Mr. Naylor.
+
+For nearly two years Department Z. had been endeavouring to solve the
+problem of a secret organisation, with the offshots of which they were
+constantly coming into contact.  The method this organisation adopted
+was one of concentration upon a single object.  At one time it would be
+at the sailing of vessels from home ports, at another the munitions
+output, or again the anti-aircraft defences of London.
+
+Malcolm Sage was convinced that somewhere there was at work a
+controlling mind, one that weighed every risk and was prepared for all
+eventualities.  Individuals had been shadowed, some had been arrested,
+much to Sage's disgust.  The efforts of the organisation had frequently
+been countered and its objects defeated; but Department Z. had hitherto
+been unable to penetrate beyond the outer fringe.  The most remarkable
+thing of all was that no document of any description had been
+discovered, either on the person of those arrested, or through the
+medium of the post.
+
+Scotland Yard stoutly denied the existence of the organisation.  They
+claimed to have made a clean sweep of all secret service agents in
+their big round-up on the outbreak of war.  Whatever remained were a
+few small fry that had managed to slip through the meshes of their net.
+Malcolm Sage merely shrugged his shoulders and worked the harder.
+
+When it had been discovered that the famous Norvelt aeroplane, which
+was to give the Allies the supremacy of the air, had been copied by the
+Germans, the War Cabinet regarded the matter as one of the gravest
+setbacks the Allied cause had received.  Mr. Llewellyn John had openly
+reproached Colonel Walton with failure.  Again when time after time a
+certain North Sea convoy was attacked, the Authorities knew that it
+could be only as a result of information having leaked out to the
+enemy.  A raid into the Bight of Heligoland had been met in a way that
+convinced those who had planned it that the enemy had been warned,
+although the utmost secrecy had been observed.  All these things had
+tended to cause the War Cabinet uneasiness, and Department Z. had been
+urged to redouble its efforts to find out the means by which
+information was conveyed to the enemy.
+
+"We must watch and wait, just hang about on the outer fringe.  When we
+find the thread it will lead to the centre of things," Sage had
+remarked philosophically.  In the meantime he worked untiringly,
+keeping always at the back of his mind the problem of this secret
+organisation.
+
+Day by day the record of Mr. Montagu Naylor's activities enlarged.
+With him caution seemed to have become an obsession.  As Malcolm Sage
+went through the daily reports of his agents he was puzzled to account
+for many of Mr. Naylor's actions other than by the fact that
+circumlocution had become with him a habit.
+
+Among other things that came to light was Mr. Naylor's fondness for
+open spaces, and the frequency with which he got into conversation with
+strangers.  He would wander casually into Kew Gardens, or Waterlow
+Park, or in fact anywhere, seat himself somewhere on a bench, and
+before he had been there ten minutes, someone would inevitably select
+the same bench on which to rest himself or herself, with the result
+that they would soon drift into desultory conversation with Mr. Naylor.
+
+The same thing would happen at a restaurant at which Mr. Naylor might
+be lunching, dining or taking tea.  With strangers his manner seemed
+irresistible.
+
+It would sometimes happen that he would keep one of the telephone
+appointments, pass through the thoroughfare indicated, and proceed
+either to a park or a tea-shop, where later he would find himself in
+casual conversation with someone who, curiously enough, had been in
+that particular thoroughfare when he passed through it.
+
+For some time Malcolm Sage was greatly puzzled by the fact that even
+when the name of a long thoroughfare were indicated in one of the
+telephone messages, such as Oxford Street, Marylebone Road, or even the
+Fulham Road, Mr. Naylor never experienced any difficulty in locating
+the whereabouts of his subordinate.  Sage gave instructions for the
+exact position of each thoroughfare to be indicated.  As a result he
+discovered that contact was always established in the neighbourhood of
+the building numbered 10.
+
+"It's the German mind," remarked Sage one day to Colonel Walton.  "It
+leaves nothing to chance, or to the intelligence of the other fellow."
+
+As each one of Mr. Naylor's associates was located, he or she was
+continuously shadowed.  In consequence the strain upon the resources of
+Department Z. became increasingly severe.  It was like an army
+advancing into an enemy country, and having to furnish the lines of
+communication from its striking force.  Sometimes Sage himself was
+engaged in the shadowing, and once or twice even Colonel Walton.
+
+"By the time we've finished, there won't be even the office cat left,"
+Thompson one day remarked to Gladys Norman, a typist whom Malcolm Sage
+had picked out of one of the Departments through which he had passed
+during his non-stop career.  She had already shown marked ability by
+her cleverness and resource, to say nothing of her impudence.
+
+"Never mind, Tommy," she had replied.  "It's all experience, and after
+the war, when I marry you and we start our private inquiry bureau----"
+She nodded her head knowingly.  "Why, I've got enough facts from my own
+department to divorce half the officers on the staff," she added.
+
+The work of shadowing Mr. Naylor was not without its humours.
+Sometimes Department Z. was led away on false scents.  On one occasion
+a week was spent in tracking a venerable-looking old gentleman, he
+turned out to be a quite respectable pensioned civil servant, who, out
+of the kindness of his own heart, had passed the time of day with Mr.
+Naylor.
+
+The plan decided upon by Colonel Walton and Malcolm Sage was carefully
+to watch all Mr. Naylor's associates and, at a given time, make a clean
+sweep of the lot.  To achieve this effect a zero hour was to be
+established on a certain day.  Each was to be arrested as soon after
+that time as it was possible.  This was mainly due to Malcolm Sage's
+suspicion that some scheme of warning existed between the various
+members of the combination, whereby any danger threatening one was
+quickly notified to all the others.
+
+"In all probability we shall get a few harmless birds into the net,"
+Malcolm Sage had remarked.  "Probably the sister of an M.P., or the
+head of a department in one of the new Ministries; but that can't be
+helped."
+
+"Still I should prefer that it didn't happen," Colonel Walton had said
+drily.  "You know the Skipper hates questions in the House."
+
+"By the way," said Malcolm Sage to Colonel Walton one day, "Thompson
+sent in an interesting report this morning."
+
+"Naylor?" queried Colonel Walton.
+
+Malcolm Sage nodded.
+
+"He's having a sort of small greenhouse arrangement fitted in the
+window of the front-room of the basement.  It may be for flowers or for
+salad."
+
+"Or----?" interrogated Colonel Walton.
+
+Malcolm Sage merely shrugged his shoulders as he proceeded to dig the
+ashes out of his pipe.
+
+The work of Department Z. continued quietly and unostentatiously.  John
+Dene was never permitted out of sight, except when in some private
+place.  This meant the constant changing of those responsible for
+keeping him under observation.
+
+The necessity of this was not more evident to Department Z. than to
+John Dene himself.  In spite of his scornful manner, he was not lacking
+in caution, as soon became obvious to Malcolm Sage.  At the hotel he
+was careful, taking neither food nor drink in his room.  He never dined
+two consecutive nights at the same restaurant, and he consistently
+refused all overtures from strangers.
+
+It soon became evident to Malcolm Sage that John Dene realised how
+great was the danger by which he was threatened.
+
+The ransacking of his room at the Ritzton left John Dene indifferent.
+The fact that he never locked the small safe he kept at his office at
+Waterloo Place was not without its significance for Malcolm Sage.
+
+In the course of the next few weeks Malcolm Sage learned a great deal
+about John Dene of Toronto.  Although proof against the wiles of
+confidence men, always on the look-out for the colonials, he fell an
+easy victim to the plausible beggar.  He never refused a request for
+assistance, and the record of his unostentatious charities formed a no
+inconsiderable portion of the rapidly increasing dossier at Department
+Z.
+
+Many were the incidents recorded of John Dene's kindness of heart.  A
+child smiling up into his eyes would cause him to stop, bend down and
+ask its name, or where it lived.  Whilst the little one was sucking an
+embarrassed finger John Dene would be feeling in his pocket for a coin
+that a moment later would cause the youngster to gaze after him in
+speechless wonder, clutching in his grimy hand a shilling or a
+half-a-crown.
+
+Once he was observed leading a tearful little girl of about five years
+old up the Haymarket.  The child had apparently become lost, and John
+Dene was seeking a policeman into whose care to consign her.  It became
+obvious to Malcolm Sage that John Dene's weak points were children and
+"lame dogs."
+
+Thompson, who first had charge of the guarding of John Dene, reported
+that one of the most assiduous of those who seemed to interest
+themselves in the movements of the Canadian, was a little man in a grey
+suit, with a pair of shifty eyes that never remained for more than a
+second on any one object.
+
+"He's clever, sir," Thompson had remarked to Sage, "clever as a vanload
+of monkeys, and he takes cover like an alien," he added grinning, at
+his own joke.
+
+"Has he linked up with Naylor yet?"
+
+Thompson shook his head.  "The old bird's too crafty for that, sir," he
+said.  "He only comes up against the small fry.  This little chap in
+the grey suit is something bigger."
+
+The officials at Department Z. soon discovered that the chiefs of the
+organisation, against which they were working, never came into contact
+with each other.  Communication was established verbally by
+subordinates.  Another thing that added to the difficulties of Sage's
+task was that a man, who had for some days been particularly active,
+would suddenly drop out, apparently being superseded by someone else
+with whom he had not previously been in contact.  Later, the man who
+had dropped out would pick up an entirely different thread.  This meant
+innumerable loose ends, all of which had to be followed up and then
+held until they began to develop along new lines.
+
+"It's a great game played slow, Gladys," Thompson remarked one day to
+Gladys Norman as they sat waiting for Malcolm Sage.
+
+"Slow," cried the girl.  "If this is slow, what's fast?"
+
+"Her initials are G. N.," was the reply.
+
+Malcolm Sage entered at the moment when Gladys had succeeded in making
+her colleague's hair look like that of an Australian aborigine.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+JOHN DENE GOES TO KEW
+
+"And now we'll go to Kew and say how-do-you-do to the rhododendrons,"
+cried Dorothy, as she rolled up her napkin and slipped it into the
+silver ring that lay beside her plate.  "I'll go and make myself smart;
+and mother"--she paused at the door--"mind you put on your new hat that
+makes you look so wicked."
+
+Mrs. West smiled what Dorothy called her "Saturday afternoon smile."
+
+Half an hour later Dorothy was gazing at herself in the looking-glass
+over the dining-room mantelpiece.  With a sigh half of content, half of
+rebelliousness she turned as Mrs. West entered.  For a moment she stood
+looking enquiringly at her daughter.
+
+"Shall I do?" she demanded impudently.  "I've put on my very best,
+undies and all."
+
+"But why, Dorothy?" began Mrs. West.
+
+"Oh, I just wanted to feel best to-day.  I wonder if John Dene notices
+legs, mother," she added inconsequently.
+
+"Really, Dorothy!" began Mrs. West, with widening eyes.
+
+"Well, I've got rather nice legs, and--Oh! but I'm sure he doesn't.  We
+had fillets of sole done up in a most wonderful way the other day, and
+he asked if it was cod.  He's got cod on the brain, poor dear."  With a
+sigh she turned once more to regard herself in the looking-glass.  "If
+he could see me in this hat, it would be all 'u.p.' with Honest John;"
+and she laughed wickedly as she caught her mother's eye.
+
+"I wish you wouldn't use such expressions," protested Mrs. West gently,
+"and--and----"  She stopped and looked appealingly at her daughter.
+
+"I know I'm a horrid little beast," she cried, turning quickly, "and I
+say outrageous things, don't I?"  Then with a sudden change of mood she
+added: "But why shouldn't a girl be pleased because she's got nice
+legs, mother?"
+
+"It's not nice for a young girl to talk about legs," said Mrs. West a
+little primly, making the slightest possible pause before the last
+words.
+
+"But why, mother?" persisted Dorothy.
+
+"It's--it's not quite nice."
+
+"Well, mine are, anyway," said Dorothy with a little grimace.  "Now we
+must be off."
+
+Mrs. West merely sighed, the sigh of one who fails to understand.
+
+"Mother dear," said Dorothy, observing the sigh, "if I didn't laugh I'm
+afraid I should cry."  All the brightness had left her as she looked
+down at her mother.  "I wonder why it is?" she added musingly.
+
+To Mrs. West, Saturday afternoons were the oases in her desert of
+loneliness.  During the long and solitary days of the week, she looked
+forward with the eagerness of a child to the excursions Dorothy never
+failed to plan for her entertainment.  If it were dull or wet, there
+would be a matinee or the pictures; if fine they would go to Kew,
+Richmond, or the Zoo.  It was an understood thing that Mrs. West should
+know nothing about the arrangement until the actual day itself.
+
+"I think," remarked Dorothy, as they walked across Kew Bridge, "that I
+must be looking rather nice to-day.  That's the third man who has given
+me the glad-eye since----"
+
+"Oh, Dorothy!  I wish you wouldn't say such dreadful things," protested
+Mrs. West in genuine distress.
+
+Slipping her arm through her mother's, the girl squeezed it to her side.
+
+"I know I'm an outrageous little beast," she said, "but I love shocking
+you, you dear, funny little mother, and--and you know I love you, don't
+you?"
+
+"But suppose anyone heard you, dear, what would they think?"  There was
+genuine concern in Mrs. West's voice.
+
+"Oh, I'm dreadfully respectable with other people.  I never talk to
+John Dene about legs or glad-eyes, really."  Her eyes were dancing with
+mischief as she looked down at her mother.  "Now I'll promise to be
+good for the rest of the day; but how can a girl say prunes and prisms
+with a mouth like mine.  It's too wide for that, and then there are
+those funny little cuts at the corners; they are what make me wicked,"
+she announced with a wise little nod.
+
+Mrs. West sighed once more; she had learned that it was useless to
+protest when her daughter was in her present mood.
+
+They entered the Gardens, and for an hour walked about absorbing their
+atmosphere of peace and warmth, sunlight and shadow and the song of
+birds; the war seemed very far away.
+
+Presently they seated themselves by the broad walk leading to the large
+tropical greenhouse, and gazed idly at the stream of passers-by.
+
+"I wish I were a girl bird," said Dorothy dreamily, as she listened to
+the outpourings of a blackbird fluting from a neighbouring tree.
+
+Mrs. West smiled.  She was very happy.
+
+"It would be lovely to be made love to like that," continued Dorothy,
+"so much nicer than----  Mother, darling, look!" she broke off
+suddenly, clutching Mrs. West's arm.  "There's John Dene."
+
+Following the direction of her daughter's eyes, Mrs. West saw a rather
+thick-set man with hunched-up shoulders, looking straight in front of
+him, a cigar gripped aggressively between his teeth.  He was walking in
+the direction that would bring him within a few feet of the seat on
+which they sat.
+
+"He'll never see us," whispered Dorothy excitedly.  "He never sees
+anything, not even a joke.  Oh!  I wish he would," she added.  "I
+should so like you to meet him."
+
+Mrs. West did not speak; she was gazing with interest at the
+approaching figure.
+
+"Mother dear, do you think you could faint?"  Dorothy's eyes were
+shining with excitement.
+
+"Faint!" echoed Mrs. West.
+
+"Yes, then I could call for help and John Dene would come, and you
+would get to know him.  I'm sure he'll never see us."
+
+"Hush, dear, he might hear what you are saying," said Mrs. West.
+
+When John Dene was within a few feet of them, Dorothy's sunshade fell
+forward, seeming to bring him back with a start to his surroundings.
+Instinctively he stepped forward, picked up the sunshade and lifting
+his hat handed it to Dorothy.  For a moment there was a puzzled
+expression in his eyes, followed instantly by one of recognition; and
+then John Dene smiled, and Mrs. West liked him.
+
+"You see, I found my way," he said to Dorothy when she had introduced
+him to her mother, and for some reason she blushed.
+
+"We often come here," said Dorothy lamely, conscious that her mother's
+eyes were upon her.
+
+"It's fine.  I've just been looking around," he remarked, as he took a
+seat beside Mrs. West.  "We haven't anything like this in Can'da," he
+added generously.
+
+"I suppose you have parks, though," said Mrs. West conversationally.
+
+"Sure," he replied; "but this is way beyond anything we've got."
+
+"You don't think it wants gingering-up then, Mr. Dene," asked Dorothy
+demurely.
+
+"Dorothy!" expostulated Mrs. West in shocked tones; but John Dene
+merely looked at her, at first without understanding and then, seeing
+the point of her remark, he smiled right into her eyes, and again
+Dorothy blushed and dropped her eyes.
+
+"You see," he said, turning to Mrs. West, "we're a new country and it
+doesn't matter a bean to us how a thing was done yesterday, if some one
+comes along and tells us how we can do it better to-morrow, and we
+don't mind its getting known.  That's what she meant," he added,
+nodding in Dorothy's direction.
+
+"You must all feel delightfully free," murmured Mrs. West tactfully.
+
+"Free," echoed John Dene in a tone of voice that seemed to suggest that
+in no place of the world was freedom so well understood as in the
+Dominion.  "In Can'da we're just about as free as drinks at an
+election."
+
+Dorothy giggled; but John Dene seemed to see nothing strange in the
+simile.
+
+"You see, mother, Mr. Dene thinks we're all hopelessly old-fashioned,"
+said Dorothy with a mischievous side-glance at John Dene; then, as he
+made no response, she added, "Mr. Dene can do three or four different
+things at the same time and--and----"
+
+She broke off and began to poke holes in the gravel with the point of
+her sunshade.
+
+"And what?" he demanded peremptorily.
+
+"Well, we're not all so clever," she concluded, angry to feel herself
+flushing again.  "Oh----"
+
+Suddenly Dorothy started forward.  A little boy who had been playing
+about in front of them for some time past, had tripped and fallen on
+his face.  In an instant she was down on her knees striving to soothe
+the child's frightened cries, and using her dainty lace-edged
+handkerchief to staunch the blood that oozed from a cut on his cheek.
+
+John Dene, who had risen also, stood watching her, his usual expression
+changed to one of deep concern.  He looked from the child to Dorothy,
+obviously struck by the change in her.  There was knowledge and
+understanding of children in the way in which she handled the
+situation, he decided.  He also noticed that she seemed quite oblivious
+of the fact that she was kneeling on the rough gravel to the detriment
+of her pretty frock.
+
+When eventually the mother of the child had led it away pacified by the
+attentions of Dorothy and the largesse of John Dene, he turned to the
+girl.
+
+"You like them?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the retreating
+infant.
+
+"I love them," she said softly, with a dreamy look.  Then catching John
+Dene's eye she blushed, and John Dene smiled.
+
+For the next half-hour Mrs. West and John Dene talked, Dorothy
+remaining a listener.  The sympathy and gentleness of Mrs. West led
+John Dene to talk in a way that surprised Dorothy, accustomed to his
+habitual suspicion of strangers--British strangers.
+
+"Say, does this bother you any?" he enquired presently of Mrs. West,
+indicating the cigar from which he was puffing clouds of smoke.
+
+"Not at all," said Mrs. West, striving to keep from choking.  "I--I
+like smoke."
+
+Dorothy tittered in spite of herself at the expression of martyrdom on
+her mother's face.  John Dene turned to her enquiringly; she developed
+her giggle into a cough.
+
+"But you like England, Mr. Dene?" asked Mrs. West by way of bridging
+the slight gulf that Dorothy's giggle had caused.
+
+"Sure," said John Dene; "but I don't seem to be able to figure things
+out here as I did at T'ronto.  Over there we're just as dead keen on
+winning this war as we are on keeping alive; but here----"  He filled
+in the hiatus with a volume of cigar smoke.
+
+"And don't you think we want to win the war, Mr. Dene?" asked Dorothy.
+
+"Well, some of those dancing lizards up at the Admiralty have a funny
+way of showing it," was the grim rejoinder.
+
+"Please, Mr. Dene, what is a dancing lizard?" asked Dorothy demurely,
+developing a design that she was making in the gravel with the end of
+her sunshade.
+
+"Dorothy!" expostulated Mrs. West, and then without giving him an
+opportunity of replying, she continued: "but, Mr. Dene, I'm sure they
+are all extremely patriotic and--and----"
+
+"Perhaps it's because I don't understand Englishmen," he conceded.
+"Why, the other day, when Sir Lyster took me along to see Mr. Llewellyn
+John about one of the biggest things that's ever likely to come his
+way, what do you think he talked about?"
+
+Mrs. West shook her head, with a smile that seemed to say it was not
+for her to suggest what First Lords talked of.
+
+"Pelicans!"  Into that simple and unoffending word John Dene managed to
+precipitate whole dictionaries of contempt and disapproval.
+
+"Pelicans!" repeated Mrs. West in surprise, whilst Dorothy turned aside
+to hide the smile that was in danger of becoming a laugh.
+
+"Sure," replied John Dene.  "Birds with beaks like paddle-blades," he
+added, as if to leave no room for misunderstanding.
+
+"But didn't Nero fiddle while Rome burned?" enquired Dorothy
+mischievously.
+
+"Maybe," was the reply, "but I'll auction it didn't put the fire out."
+
+Dorothy laughed.
+
+"You see, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West gently, "different countries have
+different traditions----"
+
+"I've no use for traditions," was the uncompromising rejoinder.  "It
+seems to me that in this country every one's out to try and prevent
+every one else from knowing what they're thinking.  I've a rare picnic
+to find out what Sir Lyster's thinking when I'm talking to him."  He
+bit savagely into the end of his cigar, when turning suddenly to Mrs.
+West he said, "Here, will you and your daughter come and have some tea
+with me?  I suppose we can get tea around here?" he enquired,
+apparently of the surrounding landscape.
+
+"It's very kind of you, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West sweetly.  "We should
+be delighted, shouldn't we, Dorothy?"
+
+"Yes, mother," said Dorothy without enthusiasm.
+
+John Dene turned suddenly and looked at her.  Again he smiled.
+
+"Why, I hadn't thought of that," he said.
+
+"Thought of what?" she asked.
+
+"Why, you see enough of me all the week without my butting in on your
+holidays."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Dene!" cried Dorothy reproachfully, "how can you be so unkind?
+Now we shall insist upon your taking us to tea, won't we, mother?"
+
+Mrs. West smiled up at John Dene who had risen.  "I'm afraid we can't
+let you off now, Mr. Dene," she said sweetly.
+
+"Well, I take it, I shan't be tugging at the halter," he said, as they
+walked towards where the pagoda reared its slim, un-English body above
+the trees.
+
+Having found a table and ordered tea, John Dene looked about him
+appreciatively.
+
+"We haven't got anything like this in T'ronto," he repeated, as if
+anxious to give full justice to the old country for at least one unique
+feature.
+
+"Thank you for that tribute," said Dorothy demurely.
+
+"But it's true," said John Dene, turning to her.
+
+"But you don't always say a thing just because it's true, do you?" she
+enquired.
+
+"Sure," was the uncompromising response.
+
+"But," continued Dorothy, "suppose one day I was looking very plain and
+unattractive, would you tell me of it?"
+
+"You couldn't."
+
+This was said with such an air of conviction that Dorothy felt her
+cheeks burn, and she lowered her eyes.  John Dene, she decided, could
+be extremely embarrassing.  His conversation seemed to consist of
+one-pound notes: he had no small change.
+
+For some time she remained silent, again leaving the conversation to
+John Dene and her mother.  He was telling her something of his early
+struggles and adventures, first in Canada, then in America and finally
+in Canada again.  How he had lost both his parents when a child, and
+had been adopted by an uncle and aunt who, apparently, made no attempt
+to disguise the fact that they regarded him as an expensive nuisance.
+At twelve he had run away, determined to carve out his own career, "And
+I did it," he concluded.
+
+"But how did you manage to do it in the time?" asked Mrs. West.
+
+"I was thirty-seven last fall.  I began at twelve.  You can do a rare
+lot in twenty-five years--if you don't happen to have too many
+ancestors hanging around," he added grimly.
+
+"I think you are very wonderful," was Mrs. West's comment, and John
+Dene knew she meant it.
+
+"If I'd been in this country," he remarked with a return of his old
+self-assertiveness, "I'd probably be driving a street-car, or picking
+up cigarette-stubs."
+
+"Why?" enquired Mrs. West, puzzled at the remark.
+
+"You can't jump over a wall when you're wearing leaden soles on your
+boots," was the terse rejoinder.
+
+"And haven't you sometimes missed not having a mother?" enquired Mrs.
+West gently, tears in her sympathetic eyes at the thought of this
+solitary man who had never known the comforts of a home.  "She would
+have been proud of you."
+
+"Would she?" he enquired simply, as he crumbled his cake and threw it
+to a flurry of birds that was hopefully fluttering on the fringe of the
+tables.
+
+"A son's success means more to a mother than anything else," said Mrs.
+West.
+
+"I seem to have been hustling around most of my time," said John Dene.
+"I'm always working when I'm not asleep.  Perhaps I haven't felt it as
+much----"
+
+He left the sentence uncompleted; but there was a look in his eyes that
+was not usually there.
+
+Mrs. West sighed with all a mother's sympathy for a lonely man.
+
+"Do you like birds, Mr. Dene?" asked Dorothy.
+
+"Why, sure," he replied, "I like all animals.  That's what I don't
+understand about you over here," he continued.
+
+"But we love animals," said Mrs. West.
+
+"I mean stag and fox-hunting."  There was a hard note in his voice.
+"If I had a place in this country and anyone came around hunting foxes
+on my land, there'd be enough trouble to keep the whole place from
+going to sleep for the next month."
+
+"What should you do?" enquired Dorothy wickedly.
+
+"Well, if anything had to be killed that day it wouldn't be the fox."
+
+"I'm afraid you wouldn't be very popular with your neighbours," said
+Dorothy.
+
+"I don't care a pea-nut whether I'm popular or not," he said grimly;
+"but they'd have to sort of learn that if they wanted to run foxes,
+they must go somewhere else than on my land."
+
+Dorothy decided that the English county that opened its gates to John
+Dene would have an unexpectedly exciting time.  Mentally she pictured
+him, a revolver in each hand, holding up a whole fox-hunt, the sudden
+reining in of horses, the shouting of the huntsman and the master,
+whilst the dogs streamed across the country after their quarry.
+Perhaps it was as well, she decided, that John Dene had no intention of
+settling in England.
+
+"This has been fine," said John Dene after a long silence, during which
+the three seemed content to enjoy the beauty of the afternoon.  "I
+wonder if you----"  Then he paused, as he looked across at Mrs. West.
+
+"You wonder if I would what, Mr. Dene?" she asked with a smile.
+
+"I was just going to invite you to dine with me," continued John Dene,
+"only I remembered that your daughter probably has enough of me----"
+
+"If you word all your invitations like that," said Dorothy, "we shall
+accept every one, shan't we, mother?"
+
+Mrs. West smiled.
+
+"Say, that's bully," he cried.  "We'll get a taxi and drive back.  I'd
+hate to spoil a good day by dining alone;" and he called for his bill.
+
+"That's the third time I've seen that little man this afternoon," said
+Dorothy, lowering her voice as a man in a blue suit and light boots
+paused a few yards in front of them to read the label on a tree.
+"Isn't it funny how one runs across the same person time after time?"
+
+"Sure," said John Dene.  There was in his voice a note of grimness that
+neither Dorothy nor Mrs. West seemed to detect.
+
+At the main gates they secured a taxi.  As they hummed eastward,
+Dorothy noticed that the heavy preoccupied look, so characteristic of
+John Dene's face had lifted.  He smiled more frequently and looked
+about him, not with that almost fierce penetrating glance to which she
+had been accustomed; but with a look of genuine interest.
+
+"If it wouldn't bother you any," said John Dene, suddenly leaning
+across to Mrs. West, "I'd like to get an automobile, and perhaps you'd
+show me one or two places I ought to see.  I'd be glad if----"  He
+looked at her and smiled.
+
+"It's very kind of you----" began Mrs. West.
+
+"Of course I don't want to butt-in," he said a little hastily.
+
+"Am I included in the invitation?" asked Dorothy quietly.
+
+"Sure," he replied, looking at her a little surprised.  Then, seeing
+the twitching at the corners of her mouth, he smiled.
+
+"Then that's fixed up," he said.  "I'll have an automobile for next
+Saturday, and you shall arrange where we're to go."
+
+"But you mustn't joy-ride," said Dorothy, suddenly remembering D.O.R.A.
+and all her Don't's.
+
+"Mustn't what?" demanded John Dene, in the tone of a man who finds his
+pleasures suddenly threatened from an unexpected angle.
+
+"It's forbidden to use petrol for pleasure," she explained.
+
+John Dene made a noise in his throat that, from her knowledge of him,
+Dorothy recognised as a sign that someone was on the eve of being
+gingered-up.
+
+"I'll get that automobile," he announced; and Dorothy knew that there
+was trouble impending for Mr. Blair.
+
+"And we'll have a picnic-hamper, shall we?" she cried excitedly.
+
+"Sure," replied John Dene, "I'll order one."
+
+"Oh, won't that be lovely, mother!" she cried, clapping her hands.
+
+Mrs. West smiled her pleasure.
+
+"Where are you taking us to dinner?" enquired Dorothy of John Dene.
+
+"The Ritzton," he replied.
+
+"Oh, but we're not dressed for that!"
+
+"It's war time and I never dress," he announced, as if that settled the
+matter.
+
+"But--" began Mrs. West hesitatingly.
+
+"Perhaps you'd rather not come?" he began tentatively, his
+disappointment too obvious to disguise.
+
+"Oh, but we want to come!" said Mrs. West, "only we're not in quite the
+right clothes for the Ritzton, are we?"
+
+"Don't you worry," he reassured her; then a moment later added, "that's
+what I'm up against in this country.  Everybody's putting on the
+clothes they think other people expect them to wear.  If people don't
+like my clothes, they can look where I'm not sitting.  We're not going
+to win this war by wearing clothes," he announced.
+
+Then Dorothy started to gurgle.  The picture of endeavouring to win the
+war without clothes struck her as comical.
+
+"Dorothy!" admonished Mrs. West.
+
+"I--I was just thinking, mother."
+
+"Thinking of what?" asked John Dene.
+
+"I was just wondering how Sir Lyster would look trying to win the war
+without clothes," and she trailed off into a splutter of laughter.
+
+"Dorothy!"  Mrs. West turned to John Dene with a comical look of
+concern.  "I'm afraid my daughter is in one of her wilful moods to-day,
+Mr. Dene," she explained.
+
+"She'll do as she is," he announced with decision
+
+And again Dorothy felt her cheeks burn.
+
+
+"I like Mr. Dene," announced Mrs. West that night as she and Dorothy
+sat at the open window of the drawing-room before going to bed.
+
+"So you approve of your future son-in-law, mother mine, I'm so glad,"
+said Dorothy.
+
+"You mustn't say such things, my dear," expostulated Mrs. West.
+
+"I'm afraid I shall have to do the proposing though," Dorothy added.
+
+"It was very strange, meeting Mr. Dene to-day," remarked Mrs. West half
+to herself.
+
+"Very," remarked Dorothy, and she hastened to talk of something else.
+
+That night John Dene dreamed he was a little boy again, and had fallen
+down and hurt himself, and a beautiful lady had knelt beside him and
+kissed him.  He awakened with a start just as the lady had turned into
+Dorothy, with her note-book, asking if there were any more letters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE STRANGENESS OF JOHN DENE
+
+"Here, I'm being trailed."
+
+Mr. Blair looked up from his writing-table with a startled expression
+as John Dene burst into his room.  In entering a room John Dene gave
+the impression of first endeavouring to break through the panels, and
+appearing to turn the handle only as an afterthought.
+
+"Trailed," repeated Mr. Blair in an uncomprehending manner.
+
+John Dene stood looking down at him accusingly, as if he were
+responsible.
+
+"Yes, trailed, watched, tracked, shadowed, followed, bumped-into,
+trodden-on," snapped John Dene irritably.  He was annoyed that a man
+occupying an important position should not be able to grasp his meaning
+without repetition.  "You know anything about it?" he demanded.
+
+Mr. Blair merely shook his head.
+
+"He in?"  John Dene jerked his head in the direction of Sir Lyster's
+room.
+
+"He's--he's rather busy," began Mr. Blair.
+
+"Oh, shucks!" cried John Dene, and striding across to the door he
+passed into Sir Lyster's room.  "Morning," he cried, as Sir Lyster
+looked up from his table.  "Someone's following me around again," he
+announced, "and I want to know whether it's you or them."
+
+"Me or who?" queried Sir Lyster.
+
+"Whether it's some of your boys, or the other lot."
+
+After a moment's reflection Sir Lyster seemed to grasp John Dene's
+meaning.  "I'll make enquiry," he said suavely.
+
+"Well, you might suggest that it doesn't please me mightily.  I don't
+like being trailed in this fashion, so if it's any of your boys just
+you whistle 'em off."
+
+"I doubt if you would be aware of the fact if we were having you
+shadowed, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster quietly, "and in any case it would
+be for your own safety."
+
+"When John Dene can't take care of himself," was the reply, "he'd
+better give up and start a dairy."
+
+"How is the _Destroyer_ progressing?" enquired Sir Lyster with the
+object of changing the conversation.
+
+"Fine," was the reply.  "Your man had better be ready on Friday.  One
+of my boys'll pick him up, Jim Grant's his name."
+
+"Sir Goliath Maggie has appointed Commander Ryles," said Sir Lyster.
+
+"Well, let him be ready by Friday.  Grant'll pick him up on his way
+north.  Your man can't mistake him, little chap with red hair all over
+him.  Don't forget to call off your boys;" and with that John Dene was
+gone.
+
+Ten minutes later Sir Bridgman North found the First Lord sitting at
+his table, apparently deep in thought.
+
+"I can see John Dene's been here," laughed Sir Bridgman.  "You and
+Blair both show all the outward visible signs of having been
+'gingered-up.'"
+
+Sir Lyster smiled feebly.  He felt that Sir Bridgman was wearing the
+joke a little threadbare.
+
+"He's been here about one of his men picking up Ryles on his way to
+Auchinlech," said Sir Lyster.  "A little man with red hair all over him
+was his description."
+
+"That seems pretty comprehensive," remarked Sir Bridgman.  "He'd better
+go right through and pick up Ryles at Scapa.  They'll probably
+appreciate him there.  It's rather dull for 'em."
+
+"I take it that Mr. Dene will follow in a day or two.  It----"  Sir
+Lyster paused; then, seeing that he was expected to finish his
+sentence, he added, "It will really be something of a relief.  He quite
+upset Rickards a few days ago over some requisitions.  I've never known
+him so annoyed."
+
+"Profane, you mean," laughed Sir Bridgman.  "What happened?"
+
+"Apparently he objected to being called a dancing lizard, and told to
+quit his funny work."  Sir Lyster smiled as if finding consolation in
+the fact that another had suffered at the hands of John Dene.
+
+"It's nothing to what he did to poor old Rayner," laughed Sir Bridgman.
+"A dear old chap, you know, but rather of the old blue-water school."
+
+Sir Lyster nodded.  He remembered that Admiral Rayner seemed to take a
+delight in reminding him of his civilian status.  With Sir Lyster he
+was always as technical in his language as a midshipman back from his
+first cruise.
+
+"Rayner wanted to fit up the Toronto with an Archie gun, and John Dene
+told him to cut it out.  Rayner protested that he was the better judge
+and all that sort of thing.  John Dene ended by telling poor old Rayner
+that next time he'd better come in a dressing-gown, as he'd be damned
+if gold bands went with the colour of his skin.  Rayner hasn't been
+civil to anyone since;" and Sir Bridgman laughed loudly.
+
+"I think my sympathies are with Rayner," smiled Sir Lyster, as Sir
+Bridgman moved towards the door.  "Frankly, I don't like John Dene."
+
+"Don't like him!  Why?"
+
+"Well," Sir Lyster hesitated for the fraction of a second, "he will
+persist in treating us as equals."
+
+"Now I call that damned nice of him;" and Sir Bridgman left the First
+Lord gazing at the panels of the door that closed behind him.
+
+Whilst Sir Lyster and Sir Bridgman were discussing his unconventional
+methods with admirals, John Dene had returned to his office and was
+working at high pressure.  Sometimes Dorothy wondered if his energy
+were like the widow's cruse.  Finishing touches had to be put to
+everything.  Instructions had to be sent to Blake as to where to pick
+up Grant and Commander Ryles, and a hundred and one things
+"rounded-off," as John Dene phrased it.
+
+During his absence, Dorothy was to be at the office each day until
+lunch time to attend to any matters that might crop up.  If John Dene
+required anything, it was arranged that he would wireless for it, and
+Dorothy was to see that his instructions were carried out to the letter.
+
+The quality about John Dene that had most impressed Dorothy was his
+power of concentration.  He would become so absorbed in his work that
+nothing else seemed to have the power of penetrating to his brain.  A
+question addressed to him that was unrelated to what was in hand he
+would ignore, appearing not to have heard it; on the other hand a
+remark germane to the trend of his thoughts would produce an instant
+reply.  It appeared as if his mind were so attuned as to throw off all
+extraneous matter.
+
+His quickness of decision and amazing vitality Dorothy found
+bewildering, accustomed as she was to the more methodical procedure of
+a Government department.  "When you know all you're likely to know
+about a thing, then make up your mind," he had said on one occasion.
+He had "no use for" a man who would wait until to-morrow afternoon to
+see how things looked then.  "I sleep on a bed, not on an idea," was
+another of his remarks that she remembered, and once when commenting
+upon the cautiousness of Sir Lyster Grayne he had said, "The man who
+takes risks makes dollars."
+
+Gradually Dorothy had fallen under the spell of John Dene's masterful
+personality.  She found herself becoming critical of others by the
+simple process of comparing them with the self-centred John Dene.
+
+She would smile at his eccentricities, his intolerance, his supreme
+belief in himself, and his almost fanatical determination to
+"ginger-up" any and every one in the British Empire whose misfortune it
+was to exist outside the Dominion of Canada.
+
+At odd moments he told her much about Canada, and how little that
+country was understood in England.  How blind British statesmen were to
+the fact that the eyes of many Canadians were turned anxiously towards
+the great republic upon their borders; how in the rapid growth of the
+U.S.A. they saw a convincing argument in favour of a tightening of the
+bonds that bound the Dominion to the Old Country.
+
+When on the subject he would stride restlessly up and down the room,
+snapping out short, sharp sentences of protest and criticism.  His
+Imperialism was that of the enthusiast.  To him a Canada lost to the
+British Empire meant a British Empire lost to itself.  His great idea
+was to see the Old Country control the world by virtue of its power,
+its brain and its justice.
+
+His memory was amazing.  If Dorothy found her notes obscure, and to
+complete a sentence happened to insert a word that was not the one he
+had dictated, John Dene would note it as he read the letter with a
+little grunt, sometimes of approval, sometimes of doubt or correction.
+
+There were times when she felt, as she expressed it to her mother, as
+if she had been dining off beef essence and oxygen.  Sometimes she
+wondered where John Dene obtained all his amazing vitality.  He was a
+small eater, seeming to regard meals as a waste of time, and he seldom
+drank anything but water.
+
+At the end of the day Dorothy would feel more tired than she had ever
+felt before; but she had caught something of John Dene's enthusiasm,
+which seemed to carry her along and defy the fatigues of the body.  Had
+it not been for the Saturday afternoons, and the whole day's rest on
+Sunday, she felt that she would not have been able to continue.
+
+In his intolerance John Dene was sometimes amusing, sometimes
+monotonous; but always uncompromising.  One day Dorothy ventured a word
+of expostulation.  He had just been expressing his unmeasured contempt
+for Mr. Blair.
+
+"You mustn't judge the whole British Navy by Mr. Blair," she said,
+looking up from her note-book with a smile.
+
+"One fool makes many," he had snapped decisively.
+
+"So that if I prove a fool," continued Dorothy quietly, "it convicts
+you of being a fool also."
+
+"But that's another transaction," he objected.
+
+"Is it?" she asked, and became absorbed in her notes.
+
+For some time John Dene had continued to dictate.  Presently he stopped
+in the middle of a letter.  "I hadn't figured it out that way," he said.
+
+Dorothy looked up at him in surprise, then she realised that he was
+referring to her previous remark, and that he was making the amende
+honorable.
+
+His manner frequently puzzled Dorothy.  At times he seemed unaware of
+her existence; at others she would, on looking up from her work, find
+him regarding her intently.  He showed entire confidence in her
+discretion, allowing her access to documents of a most private and
+confidential nature.
+
+For week after week they worked incessantly.  Dorothy was astonished at
+the mass of detail requisite for the commissioning of a ship.  Indents
+for stores and equipment had to be prepared for the Admiralty, reports
+from Blake read and replied to, requisitions for materials required had
+to be confirmed, samples obtained, examined, and finally passed, and
+instructions sent to Blake.  Strange documents they seemed to Dorothy,
+rendered bewildering by their technicalities, and flung at her in
+short, jerky sentences as John Dene strode up and down the room.
+
+"If you could only see John Dene prancing, mother mine," said Dorothy
+one day to Mrs. West, "and the demure Dorothy taking down whole
+dictionaries of funny words she never even knew existed, you'd be a
+proud woman."
+
+Mrs. West had smiled at her daughter, as she sat at her favourite place
+on a stool at her feet.
+
+"You see, what John Dene wants is managing," continued Dorothy sagely,
+"and no one understands how to do it except Sir Bridgman and me.  With
+us he'll stand without hitching."
+
+"Stand without what, dear," asked Mrs. West.
+
+"Without hitching," laughed Dorothy.  "That's one of his phrases.  It
+means that he's so tame that he'll eat out of your hand;" and she
+laughed gaily at the puzzled look on her mother's face.
+
+"Mr. Dene has been very kind," said Mrs. West presently.  "I should
+miss him very much if he went away."  There was regret in her voice.
+
+"Now, mother, no poaching," cried Dorothy.  "John Dene is mine for
+keeps, and if I let you come out with us and play gooseberry, you
+mustn't try and cut me out, because," looking critically at her mother,
+"you could if you liked.  Nobody could help loving my little Victorian
+white mouse;" and she hugged her mother's knee, missing the faint flush
+of pleasure that her words had aroused.
+
+Finding his welcome assured, John Dene had taken to joining Dorothy and
+her mother on their Saturday and Sunday excursions.  The picnic had
+proved a great success, and Dorothy had been surprised at the change in
+John Dene's manner.  The hard, keen look of a man who is thinking how
+he can bring off some deal was entirely absent.  He seemed always ready
+to smile and be amused.  Once he had almost laughed.  She was touched
+by the way in which he always looked after her mother, his gentleness
+and solicitude.
+
+"Wessie, darling," Marjorie Rogers had said one day, "you're taming the
+bear.  He'll dance soon; but, my dear, his boots," and the comical
+grimace that had accompanied the remark had caused Dorothy to laugh in
+spite of herself.
+
+"If ever I marry a man," continued Marjorie, "it will be because of his
+boots.  Let him have silk socks and beautiful shoes or boots, and I am
+as clay in his hands.  For such a man I would sin like a 'temporary.'"
+
+"Marjorie, you're a little idiot," cried Dorothy.
+
+"I saw John Dene a few days ago," continued Marjorie.
+
+"Did you?"
+
+"Yes, and I stopped him."
+
+"You didn't, Marjorie."  There was incredulity in Dorothy's voice.
+
+"Didn't I, though," was the retort.  "I gave him a hint, too."
+
+"A hint."  Dorothy felt uncomfortable.  The downrightness of Marjorie
+Rogers was both notorious and embarrassing.
+
+"Well," nonchalantly, "I just said that at the Admiralty men always
+kept their secretaries well-supplied with flowers and chocolates."
+
+"You little beast!" cried Dorothy, remembering the chocolates and
+flowers that had recently been reaching her.  "I should like to slap
+you."
+
+"Why not give me one of the chocolates instead," said Marjorie
+imperturbably.  "I saw the box directly I came in," nodding at a large
+white and gold box that Dorothy had unsuccessfully striven to hide
+beneath a filing-cabinet as Marjorie entered.  "If it hadn't been for
+me you wouldn't have had them at all," she added.  Presently she was
+munching chocolates contentedly, whilst Dorothy found herself hating
+both the chocolates and flowers.
+
+At the end of the fifth week Blake wrote that the _Destroyer_ would be
+ready for sea on the following Wednesday.  The effect of the news upon
+John Dene was curious.  Instead of appearing elated at the near
+approach of the fruition of his schemes, he sat at his table for fully
+half an hour looking straight in front of him.  When at last he spoke,
+it was to enquire of Dorothy if she liked men in uniform.
+
+That afternoon he worked with unflagging industry.  It seemed to
+Dorothy that he was deliberately calling to mind every little detail
+that had for some reason or other temporarily been put aside.  He
+seemed to be determined to leave no loose ends.  Such matters as he was
+unable to clear up himself, he gave elaborate instructions to Dorothy
+that would enable her to act without reference to him.  At half-past
+five, after a final glance round the room, he leaned back in his chair.
+
+"I shall sleep some to-night," he remarked.
+
+"Don't you always sleep?" enquired Dorothy.
+
+"I sleep better when there are no loose ends tickling my brain," was
+the reply.
+
+As Dorothy left the office a few minutes after six he called her back.
+
+"If I've forgotten anything you'd best remind me."
+
+"Mother," she remarked, when she got home that evening, "John Dene's
+the funniest man in all the world."
+
+"Is he, dear?" said Mrs. West non-committally.
+
+Dorothy nodded her head with decision.  "He wastes an awful lot of
+time, and then he hustles like--like--well, you know."
+
+"How do you mean, dear?" queried Mrs. West.
+
+"Well, he'll sit sometimes for an hour looking at nothing.  It's not
+complimentary when I'm there," she added.
+
+"Perhaps he's thinking," suggested Mrs. West.
+
+"Oh, no!"  Dorothy shook her head with decision.  "He thinks while he's
+eating.  You can see him do it.  That's why he thinks salmon is pink
+cod.  No; John Dene is a very remarkable man; but he'd be very trying
+as a husband."
+
+Dorothy spoke lightly; but during the last few days she had been asking
+herself what she would do when John Dene was gone.  Sometimes she would
+sit and ponder over it, then with a movement of impatience she would
+plunge once more into her work.  What was John Dene to her that she
+should miss him?  He was just her employer, and in a few months he
+would go back to Canada, and she would never see him again.  One
+morning she awakened crying from a dream in which John Dene had just
+said good-day to her and stepped on a large steamer labelled "To
+Canada."  That day she was almost brusque in her manner, so much so
+that John Dene had asked her if she were not well.
+
+The next morning when Dorothy arrived at the office, she found John
+Dene sitting at his table.  As she entered, he looked round, stared at
+her for a moment and then nodded, and as if as an after-thought added,
+"Good morning."
+
+Dorothy passed into her own room.  She was a little puzzled.  This was
+the first morning that John Dene had been there before her.
+
+As she came out with her note-book she looked at him closely, conscious
+of something in his manner that was strange, something she could not
+altogether define.  His voice seemed a little husky, and he lacked the
+quick bird-like movements so characteristic of him.
+
+She made no remark, however, merely seating herself in her customary
+place and waited for letters.
+
+He drew from his pocket some notes and began to dictate.
+
+Never before had he used notes when dictating.  Several times she
+glanced at him, and noted that he appeared to be reading from the
+manuscript rather than dictating; but she decided that he had probably
+written out rough drafts in order to assure accuracy.  His voice was
+very strange.
+
+"Did you sleep well last night, Mr. Dene?" she enquired during a pause
+in the dictation.
+
+"Sleep well," he repeated, looking up at her, "I always sleep well."
+
+Dorothy was startled.  There was something in the glance and the
+brusque tone that puzzled her.  Both were so unlike John Dene.  She had
+mentally decided that he spoke to her as he spoke to no one else.  She
+had compared his inflection when addressing her with that he adopted to
+others, even so important a person as Sir Bridgman North.  Now he spoke
+gruffly, as if he were irritated at being spoken to.
+
+Apparently he sensed what was passing through her mind, for he turned
+to her again and said:
+
+"I'm not feeling very well this morning, Miss West, I----"  Then he
+hesitated.
+
+"Perhaps you didn't sleep very well," she suggested mischievously.
+
+"No, I'm afraid that's what it was," he acknowledged Dorothy's eyes
+opened just a little in surprise.  A minute ago he had stated that he
+always slept well.  Either John Dene was mad or ill; and Dorothy
+continued to take down, greatly puzzled.  Had he been drugged?  The
+thought caused her to pause in her work and glance up at him.  He
+certainly seemed vague and uncertain, and then he looked so strange.
+
+When he had dictated for about half an hour, John Dene handed her a
+large number of documents to copy, telling her that there would not be
+any more letters that day.  To her surprise he picked up his hat and
+announced that he would not be back until five o'clock to sign the
+letters.  Never before had he missed lunching at his office.  Dorothy
+was now convinced that something was wrong.  Everything about him
+seemed strange and forced.
+
+Once or twice she caught him looking at her furtively; but immediately
+she raised her eyes, he hastily shifted his, as if caught in some
+doubtful act.
+
+At twelve o'clock lunch arrived, and Dorothy had to confess to herself
+that it was a lonely and unsatisfactory meal.
+
+At five o'clock John Dene returned and signed the letters with a rubber
+stamp, which he had recently adopted.
+
+"When are you going away, Mr. Dene?" asked Dorothy.
+
+"I don't know," he responded gruffly.
+
+"I merely asked because two people on the telephone enquired when you
+were going away."
+
+"And what did you say?"
+
+"Oh, I just said what you told me.  A man called this afternoon also
+with the same question."
+
+For a moment he looked at her, then turning on his heel said "good
+evening," and with a nod walked out.
+
+Dorothy had expected him to make some remark about these enquiries.
+She knew that John Dene had no friends in London, and the questions as
+to when he was going away had struck her as strange.
+
+The next day was a repetition of the first.  A few letters were
+dictated, a sheaf of documents handed to her to copy, and John Dene
+disappeared.  Again lunch was brought for her, which she ate alone, and
+at five o'clock he came in and signed the letters.
+
+By this time Dorothy was convinced that he was ill.  The strain of the
+past few weeks had evidently been telling on him.  When he had signed
+the last letter she bluntly enquired if he felt better.
+
+"Better?" he interrogated.  "I haven't been ill."
+
+"I thought you didn't seem quite well," said Dorothy hesitatingly; but
+he brushed aside the enquiry by picking up his hat and bidding her
+"good evening."
+
+Dorothy was feeling annoyed and a little hurt; and preserved an
+attitude of businesslike brevity in all her remarks to John Dene.  If
+he chose to adopt the attitude of the uncompromising employer, she on
+her part would humour him by becoming an ordinary employee.  Still she
+had to confess to herself that the old pleasure in her work had
+departed.  Hitherto she had looked forward to her arrival at the
+office, the coming of John Dene, their luncheons together and the
+occasional little chats that were sandwiched in between her work.
+
+She had become deeply interested in the _Destroyer_ and what it would
+achieve in the war.  She had been flattered by the confidence that John
+Dene had shown hi her discretion, and had felt that she was "doing her
+bit."  Again, the sense of being behind the scenes pleased her.  She
+was conscious of knowing secrets that were denied even to Cabinet
+Ministers.  The members of the War Cabinet knew less than she did about
+the _Destroyer_ and what was expected of it.
+
+John Dene was a man who did everything thoroughly.  If he trusted
+anyone, he did it implicitly; if he distrusted anyone, he did it
+uncompromisingly.  Where he liked, he liked to excess; where he
+disliked, he disliked to the elimination of all good qualities.  Half
+measures did not exist for John Dene of Toronto.
+
+When Dorothy discovered that all the old intimacy had passed away, and
+John Dene had become merely an employer, treating her as a secretary,
+she was conscious that the glamour had fallen from her work.  Somehow
+or other the _Destroyer_ had receded into something impersonal, whereas
+hitherto it had appeared to her as if she had been in some way or other
+intimately associated with it.
+
+It was all very strange and very puzzling, she told herself.  Sometimes
+she wondered if she had done anything to annoy him.  Then she told
+herself that there was something more than personal pique in his
+manner.  His whole bearing seemed to have changed, as if he had decided
+to regard her merely as a piece of mechanism, just as he did the
+typewriter, or his office chair.
+
+It was at this period of her reasoning that Dorothy discovered her
+dignity.  From that time her attitude was that of the injured woman,
+yet perfect secretary.  Her sense of humour had deserted her, and she
+arrived at the office and left it very much upon her dignity.  Even
+Mrs. West noticed the difference in her manner, and at last enquired if
+anything were wrong, or if she were unwell; but Dorothy reassured her
+with a hug and a kiss, and for the rest of that evening had been
+particularly bright and vivacious.
+
+When Mrs. West mentioned the name of John Dene, Dorothy did not pursue
+the topic, although Mrs. West failed to notice that she was switched
+off to other subjects.
+
+At the end of the week she noticed that John Dene handed her the week's
+salary in notes.  Hitherto it had been his custom to place the money in
+an envelope and put it on her table.  She concluded that this new
+method was to impress upon her that she was a dependent, and that the
+old relationship between them had been severed.  That evening, Dorothy
+was always paid on the Friday evening, she held her head very high when
+she left the office.  If Mr. John Dene required decorum, then he should
+have it in plenty from his secretary.
+
+The next morning and the Monday following, Dorothy was very much on her
+dignity.  She seemed suddenly to have become imbued with all the
+qualities of the perfect secretary.  No hint of a smile was allowed to
+wanton across her features, she was grave, ceremonial, efficient.  She
+worked harder than ever and, when she had finished the tasks John Dene
+set her, she manufactured others so that her time should be fully
+occupied.
+
+For a day and a half she laboured to show John Dene that she was
+offended; but apparently he was oblivious, not only of having offended
+her, but of the fact that she was endeavouring to convey to him the
+change that had come about in their relations.
+
+On the Monday evening he did not return to sign his letters until
+nearly six.  By that time Dorothy was almost desperate in her desire to
+show this obtuse man that she was annoyed with him.  She felt at the
+point of tears when he bade her good night and left the office, just as
+Big Ben was booming out the hour.
+
+She would go home and forget all about the stupid creature, Dorothy
+decided, as she hastily put on her coat and dug the hat-pins through
+her hat.  On reaching the street she saw John Dene standing at the
+corner of Charles Street.  For a moment she thrilled.  Was he waiting
+for her?  No, he was looking in the opposite direction, apparently deep
+in thought.  She saw a taxi draw up beside him.  The driver, a little
+man with a grey moustache, Dorothy remembered to have seen him several
+times "crawling" about on the look-out for fares.  The taxi stopped and
+the man bent towards John Dene.  Dorothy stood and watched.  John Dene
+was right in her line of route to the Piccadilly Tube, and she did not
+wish him to see her.
+
+For a moment John Dene seemed to hesitate, then with a word to the
+driver he opened the door and got in.  Suddenly Dorothy remembered
+Colonel Walton's warning.  Impulsively she started forward, just as the
+taxi started and a moment later whizzed swiftly past her.  John Dene
+was evidently in a hurry.  At that moment her attention was distracted
+by shouts and a smash.  A small run-about car had suddenly dashed
+across Regent Street from the west side of Charles Street and crashed
+into the forepart of another taxi.  A crowd gathered, a policeman
+arrived, and she had a vision of an angry taxi-driver, another man
+pointing to the roadway, as if the blame lay there, whilst the
+passenger from the taxi was running towards the Florence Nightingale
+statue shouting and waving his arms at the vehicles passing along Pall
+Mall.
+
+Slowly Dorothy turned and pursued her way up Regent Street.  She was
+tired and--and, oh! it was so stupid, going on living.
+
+That night as she was undressing she remembered the passenger from the
+second taxi.  Why had he been so interested in the taxi that was
+bearing John Dene away, and why had he tried to signal to other
+vehicles passing along Pall Mall?  He had seemed greatly excited.
+Above all, why had John Dene taken a taxi when he had been warned
+against it?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE _DESTROYER_ READY FOR SEA
+
+James Blake stood in the bows of the _Toronto_ gazing down at the long,
+cigar-shaped object that lay like a huge grey cocoon reposing in her
+bowels.  The morrow would see the _Destroyer_ floated out to carry her
+three hundred odd feet of menace into the blues and greys of the ocean.
+
+Blake was a man upon whom silence had descended as a blight; heavy of
+build, slow of thought, ponderous of movement, he absorbed all and
+apparently gave out nothing.  His most acute emotion he expressed by
+fingering the right-hand side of his ragged beard, whilst his eyes
+seemed to smoulder as his thoughts slowly took shape.
+
+As he gazed down at the grey shape of the _Destroyer's_ hull, there was
+in his eyes a strange look of absorption.  For nearly two years he had
+lived for the _Destroyer_.  It had been wife and family to him, home
+and holiday, labour and recreation, food and drink.  Nothing else
+mattered, because nothing else was.  The war existed only in so far as
+it was concerned with the _Destroyer_.  It was the _mise en scene_ for
+this wonder-boat.  It was to be her setting, just as a stage is the
+setting for a play.
+
+As he gazed down at her, he fumbled in the pocket of his pilot-jacket
+and drew forth a cigar, one of a box that John Dene had sent him.
+Slowly and deliberately he pulled out his jack-knife, cut off the end
+and, taking a good grip of the cigar with his teeth, lighted it, all
+without once raising his eyes from the _Destroyer_.
+
+As he puffed clouds of smoke for the breeze to pick up and scurry off
+with to the west, he thought lovingly of the work of the last two
+years, of the last month in particular.  Never had men worked as had
+James Blake and his "boys."  It was not for country or for gain that
+they slaved and sweated; it was not patriotism or pride of race that
+caused them to work until forced, by sheer inability to keep awake, to
+lie down for a few hours' sleep, always within sound of their comrades'
+hammers, often beside the _Destroyer_ herself.  It was "the Boss" for
+whom they worked.  They were his men, and this was their boat.  Every
+time John Dene wrote to Blake, there was always a message for "the
+boys."  "I know the boys will show these Britishers what Canada can
+do," he would write, or, "see that the boys get all they want and
+plenty to smoke."  Remembering was John Dene's long suit; and his men
+would do anything for "the Boss."
+
+Blake had not spared himself.  When not engaged in the work of
+overseeing, he had thrown off his coat and worked with the most
+vigorous.  He seemed never to sleep or rest.  Every detail of the
+_Destroyer's_ construction he carried in his head.  Plans there had
+been in his shack; but what were the use of plans to a man who had
+every line, every bolt and nut engraved upon his brain.  He had them
+merely for reference.
+
+And now all was ready.  That morning the _Destroyer_ had been floated
+into the _Toronto_ to see that everything on the mother-ship was in
+order.  Once floated out again, there remained only the taking on board
+stores and munitions.  These lay piled upon the _Toronto's_ deck ready
+at the word of command to be transferred to the _Destroyer_.
+
+In design the _Destroyer_ was very similar to the latest form of
+submarine: 310 ft. 6 ins. in length, she had a breadth of 26 ft. 6.
+ins. amidships, tapering to a point fore and aft.  She carried two
+ordinary torpedo tubes and mounted two 3 in. guns; but these were in
+the nature of an auxiliary armament.  Her main armament consisted of
+eight pneumatic-tubes, two in the bows, two in the stern, one on either
+bow and one on either beam.  These fired small arrow-headed missiles,
+rather like miniature torpedoes fitted with lance-heads for cutting
+through nets.  They had sufficient power to penetrate the plates of a
+submarine, and were furnished with an automatic detonator, which caused
+the bursting charge to explode three seconds after impact.  The charge
+was sufficient to blow a hole in the side of a "U"-boat large enough to
+ensure its immediate destruction.
+
+These projectiles were rendered additionally deadly by the fact that
+their heads became automatically magnetic as they sped through the
+water.  Thus the target against which they were launched achieved its
+own destination.  They were fitted with small gyroscopes to keep them
+straight until the magnetic-heads began to exert a dominating influence.
+
+Amidships was the conning-tower, with its four searchlights, so
+arranged as to be capable of being used singly or together.  Thus it
+was possible to illuminate the waters for half a mile in every
+direction.  Above the conning-tower were two collapsible periscopes,
+and beneath it the central ballast, beneath which lay the charge of
+T.N.T. that John Dene had boasted would send the _Destroyer_ to Kingdom
+Come should she ever be in danger of capture.
+
+Abaft the conning-tower were the engines, a switchboard, and finally
+the berths of the engine-room staff.  For'ard of the conning-tower were
+the berths of the crew, and still further for'ard were those of John
+Dene and the officers.  John Dene's invention of a new and lighter
+storage-battery had enabled him to control the _Destroyer_ entirely by
+electricity.  She possessed an endurance of fifteen-hundred miles, and
+as for the most part she held a watching brief, this would mean that
+she could remain at sea for a month or more.
+
+Her speed submerged was fourteen knots, which gave her a superiority
+over the fastest German craft, and she could remain submerged for two
+days.  She could then recharge her compressed-air chambers without
+coming to the surface by means of a tube, through which fresh air could
+be sucked from the surface, and the foul discharged.  These were
+weighted and floated in various parts in such a manner that they could
+be thrown out in a diagonal direction.  The object of this was to
+protect the _Destroyer_ from depth-charges in the event of her
+whereabouts being discovered by an enemy ship, which would render it
+dangerous for her to come to the surface.
+
+"The _Destroyer's_ a submarine," John Dene had remarked, "and
+submarines fight and live under water and not on it."
+
+Consequently in designing the _Destroyer_ he had first considered the
+special requirements entailed by the novelty of the methods she would
+employ.  She had deck-guns, periscopes and torpedo-tubes; but they were
+in every sense subsidiary to those qualities that rendered her unique
+among boats capable of submersion, viz., her searchlights and her
+magnetic projectiles.  Under water there were only two dangers capable
+of threatening her--mines and depth-charges.  Properly handled and
+without mishap, there was no reason why she should ever return to the
+surface except in the neighbourhood of her own harbour.
+
+Her most remarkable device, however, was the microphone, so sensitive
+that, with the aid of her searchlights it would enable the _Destroyer_
+to account for any "U"-boat that came within seven or eight miles of
+where she was lying.
+
+As Blake stood surveying his handiwork, he was joined by his
+second-in-command, Jasper Quinton, known among his intimates as
+"Spotty," a nickname due to the irregularity of his complexion.
+Quinton was an Englishman who had gone to Canada to make his fortune as
+a mining-engineer.  Soon after war broke out he had successfully
+applied to John Dene for a job, and had acquitted himself so well that
+John Dene had taken him into his confidence in regard to the
+_Destroyer_, and "Jasp," as he called him, had proved "a cinch."  John
+Dene made few mistakes about men and none about women: the one he
+understood, the other he avoided.
+
+"Spotty" Quint on spat meditatively upon the hull of the _Destroyer_.
+He was a man to whom words came infrequently and with difficulty; but
+he could spit a whole gamut of emotions: anger, contempt, approval,
+indifference, all were represented by salivation.  If he were forced to
+speech, he built up his phrases upon the foundation of a single word,
+"ruddy"; but apparently with entire unconsciousness that it had its
+uses as an oath.  To "Spotty" Quinton, John Dene was the "ruddy boss,"
+his invention the "ruddy _Destroyer_," the enemy the "ruddy Hun," the
+ocean the "ruddy water."  He served out his favourite adjective with
+entire impartiality.  He no more meant reproach to the Hun than to John
+Dene.  He tacitly accepted them both, the one as a power for evil, the
+other as a power for good.
+
+As Quinton silently took up a position by his side, Blake turned and
+looked at him interrogatingly.
+
+"Ruddy masterpiece," exclaimed Quinton, spitting his admiration.
+
+Blake gazed upon the unprepossessing features of his subordinate, and
+tugging a cigar from his pocket, handed it to him.
+
+Silently "Spotty" took the cigar, bit off the end and spat it together
+with his thanks into the hold of the _Toronto_.  He then proceeded to
+light the cigar.  The two men turned and made their way to the cabin
+allotted to them as a sort of office of works.  Both were thinking of
+the morrow when the _Destroyer_ would be floated out from the parent
+ship ready for her first voyage.  In addition to John Dene and his
+second-in-command, she would carry Commander Ryles, who had a
+distinguished record in submarine warfare.  He would represent the
+Admiralty.  John Dene had experienced some difficulty at the Admiralty
+over the personnel of the _Destroyer's_ crew; but he had stood
+resolutely to his guns, and the Authorities had capitulated.  This was
+largely due to Sir Bridgman North's wise counsels.
+
+"When," he remarked, "I have to choose between giving John Dene his
+head and being gingered-up, I prefer the first.  It's infinitely less
+painful."
+
+Sir Lyster had been inclined to expostulate with his colleague upon the
+manner in which he gave way to John Dene's demands.  Sir Lyster felt
+that the dignity of his office was being undermined by the blunt-spoken
+Canadian.
+
+"Do you not think," he had remarked in the early days of the descent of
+John Dene upon the Admiralty, "that it would be better for us to stand
+up to Mr. Dene?  I think the effect would be salutary."
+
+"For us, undoubtedly," Sir Bridgman had said drily.  "Personally I
+object to being gingered-up.  Look at poor Blair.  There you see the
+results of the process.  He ceased to be an Imperialist within
+twenty-four hours of John Dene's coming upon the scene.  Now he goes
+about with a hunted look in his eyes, and a prayer in his heart that he
+may get through the day without being gingered-up by the unspeakable
+John Dene."
+
+"I really think I shall have to speak to Mr. Dene about----" Sir Lyster
+had begun.
+
+"Take my advice and don't," was the retort.  "Blair and John Dene
+represent two epochs: Blair is the British Empire that was, John Dene
+is the British Empire that is to be.  It's like one of Nelson's old
+three-deckers against a super-dreadnought, and Blair ain't the
+dreadnought."
+
+"He is certainly a remarkable man," Sir Lyster had admitted
+conventionally, referring to John Dene.
+
+"He's more than that, Grayne," said Sir Bridgman, "he's the first
+genus-patriot produced by the British Empire, possibly by the world,"
+he added drily, proceeding to light a cigarette.  "Think of it," he
+added half to himself, "he could have got literally millions for his
+invention from any of the big naval powers; yet he chooses to give it
+to us for nothing, and what's more he's not out for honours.  Ginger or
+no ginger, John Dene's a man worth meeting, Grayne, on my soul he is."
+
+Blake and Quinton seated themselves one on either side of the little
+wooden table in the cabin of the _Toronto_ that answered as an office
+of works, Blake looking straight in front of him, Quinton absorbed in
+smoking and expectoration.  Presently Blake took from his pocket a
+large silver watch, gazed at it with deliberation, then raising his
+eyes nodded to his companion.  With a final expectoration, "Spotty"
+rose and left the cabin, walked over to the starboard side and climbed
+down into the motor-boat that lay there manned by her crew of three men.
+
+Without a word the man with the boat-hook pushed off, the motor was
+started and the boat throbbed her way to the entrance to the little
+harbour.  The crew of the _Destroyer_ had learned from Blake the virtue
+of silence.  For half an hour the motor-boat tore her way over the
+waters, heading due south.  From time to time Quinton gazed ahead
+through a pair of binoculars.
+
+"Starb'd," he called to the helmsman as he lowered the glass from his
+eyes for the twentieth time, then by way of explanation added, "The
+ruddy chaser."  "Steady," he added a moment later.
+
+A few minutes later a cloud of white spray indicated the approach of a
+small craft travelling at a high rate of speed.  Quinton continued to
+watch the approaching boat until the humped shoulders of a
+submarine-chaser were distinguishable through the spume.  As the boats
+neared each other he gave a quick command to the engineer, and the
+speed of the motor-boat decreased.  At the same moment the curtain of
+spray that screened the on-coming chaser died down, her fine and
+sinister lines becoming discernible.
+
+Dexterously the helmsman brought the motor-boat alongside the larger
+vessel and, without a word there stepped on board a little man wearing
+motor-goggles and a red beard of rather truculent shape, and a naval
+commander whom the stranger introduced to Quinton as Commander Ryles.
+With a nod to the man with the boathook, and a wave of his arm to those
+aboard the chaser, James Grant took his seat together with Commander
+Ryles beside Quinton, the motor-boat pushed off and, with a graceful
+sweep, turned her nose northwards and proceeded to run up her own track.
+
+Grant and Quinton continued to talk in undertones, Grant asking
+questions, Quinton answering with great economy of words and prodigious
+salivation.  The chaser, steering a south-westerly course, was soon out
+of sight.
+
+As the motor-boat entered the little harbour, Grant's eyes eagerly
+fixed themselves upon the _Toronto_, seeming to take in every detail of
+her construction.
+
+"Ready for the trial trip?" he enquired of Quinton.
+
+"Sure," was the reply as he spat over the side.
+
+"Jim there?"
+
+Quinton jerked his thumb in the direction of the _Toronto_, for which
+the motor-boat was making.  As they reached her the two men nimbly
+climbed up the side and, Quinton leading, dived below to the office of
+works.  As they entered Blake was sitting exactly as Quinton had left
+him an hour and a half previously.  At the sight of Grant his eyes
+seemed to flash; but he made no movement except to hold out his hand,
+which Grant gripped.
+
+"Through with everything?" he enquired, as he seated himself, and
+Quinton threw himself on a locker.
+
+"Sure," replied Blake.
+
+"I----" began Grant, then breaking off cast a swift look over his
+shoulder.
+
+Blake nodded his head comprehendingly, whilst Quinton spat in the
+direction of the door as if to defy eavesdroppers.
+
+From his pocket Grant drew a map, which he proceeded to unfold upon the
+table.  Quinton walked across and the three bent over, studying it with
+absorbed interest.  Meanwhile Commander Ryles had been shown to his
+cabin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE DISAPPEARANCE OF JOHN DENE
+
+"No more Saturday afternoons for you and John Dene, little mother,"
+cried Dorothy with forced gaiety as she rose from the breakfast table.
+
+Mrs. West looked up quickly.  "Why?" she asked, a falter in her voice.
+
+"He's going away," announced Dorothy indifferently, as she pinned on
+her hat.
+
+"To Canada?" asked Mrs. West anxiously.
+
+"No," replied Dorothy in a toneless voice, "he's going away on
+business."
+
+"Oh!"  Mrs. West's relief was too obvious for dissimulation.
+
+"He won't be back for months," continued Dorothy relentlessly, "and I
+shall spend my time in counting my fingers and flirting with Sir
+Bridgman.  Good-byeeeeee," and brushing a kiss on her mother's cheek
+she was gone, leaving Mrs. West puzzled, more by her manner than the
+announcement she had made.
+
+Arrived at the office Dorothy cleared up what remained of the previous
+night's work, ordered luncheon, tidied things generally, and then sat
+down to wait.  From time to time she glanced at the watch upon her
+wrist, at first mechanically, then curiously, finally anxiously.  For
+the last few days she had been more concerned than she was prepared to
+admit by John Dene's strangeness of manner.  She was hurt that he
+should now treat her as if she were a stranger, whereas hitherto he had
+been so confidential and friendly.
+
+Womanlike she ascribed it to illness.  He had been over-working.  He
+was a man of such impulsive energy, so full of ideas, so impatient of
+delays.  He seemed always to want to do everything at the moment he
+thought of it.  Incidentally he expected others to be imbued with his
+own vitality.  He had worn himself out, she decided, or was it that he
+was being drugged?  Time after time the idea had suggested itself to
+her, only to be dismissed as melodramatic.
+
+Sometimes there would cross her mind a suspicion so strange, so
+fantastic that she would brush it aside as utterly ridiculous.
+
+Luncheon arrived and no John Dene.  Dorothy made an indifferent meal.
+One o'clock passed, two o'clock came.  She had visions of him lying in
+his room at the hotel too ill to summon assistance.  She determined
+upon action and rang up the Ritzton.  To her enquiry as to whether or
+no Mr. John Dene were in came the reply that he was not.  Would they
+find out at what time he left the hotel?  It was his secretary
+speaking.  Yes, they would if Dorothy would hold on.
+
+At the end of what seemed an age came the reply: Mr. John Dene had left
+the hotel on the previous morning and had not since returned.
+
+With a clatter the receiver fell from Dorothy's hand.  It was something
+worse than illness then that had kept John Dene from his office!  This
+she saw clearly.  Probably he was lying dead in some out of the way
+spot, a victim of the hidden hand.  She felt physically sick at the
+thought.  He was such a splendid man, she told herself.  Ready to give
+everything for nothing.  The sort of man that made for victory.
+
+Suddenly she remembered the episode of the taxi on the previous evening
+and became galvanised to action.  What a fool she had been.  Seizing
+the receiver of the private line to the Admiralty, she demanded to be
+put through to Mr. Blair.  Presently she heard his mellow, patient
+voice.  No, he had heard nothing of John Dene, nor had he seen him for
+several days.  There was a note of plaintive gratitude in Mr. Blair's
+voice; but Dorothy was too worried to notice it.
+
+Putting up the receiver, she snatched up her hat, jabbed the pins
+through it, one of them into her head, and almost throwing herself into
+her coat, dashed down the stairs and literally ran across Waterloo
+Place, down the Duke of York's steps into the Admiralty.  She passed
+swiftly in and up to Mr. Blair's room, into which she burst with a lack
+of ceremony that convinced him she had already imbibed the qualities
+that made John Dene the terror of his existence.
+
+"I want to see Sir Lyster at once," she panted.
+
+Mr. Blair looked up at her in surprise.
+
+"He's engaged just now, Miss West," he said mildly.  "Is there anything
+I can do?"
+
+"It doesn't matter whether he's engaged, you must go into him at once,
+Mr. Blair, and tell him I must see him."
+
+Mr. Blair still continued to gaze at her with bovine wonder.
+
+"Oh, you stupid creature!"  Dorothy stamped her foot in her impatience.
+Then with a sudden movement she made for Sir Lyster's door, knocked and
+entered, leaving Mr. Blair gazing before him, marvelling that so short
+an association with John Dene should have produced such startling
+results.  However, it was for Sir Lyster to snub her now, and he
+resumed his work.
+
+Sir Lyster, Sir Bridgman North and Admiral Heyworth were bending over a
+table on which a large plan lay spread out.  Sir Lyster was the first
+to look up; at the sight of the flushed and excited girl his gaze
+became fixed.  Sir Bridgman and Admiral Heyworth followed the direction
+of his eyes to where Dorothy stood with heaving breast and fear in her
+eyes.
+
+"Mr. Dene has disappeared!" she gasped without any preliminary apology.
+
+"The devil!" exclaimed Sir Bridgman.
+
+Admiral Heyworth jumped to his feet.  Sir Bridgman rose and placed a
+chair for Dorothy into which she sank.  Then she told her story,
+concluding with "It's all my fault for not doing something about the
+taxi."  The three men listened without interruption.  When she had
+concluded they looked anxiously from one to the other.  It was Sir
+Bridgman who broke the silence.
+
+"We had better get Walton here."
+
+Sir Lyster nodded and going to the door requested Mr. Blair to ask
+Colonel Walton to come round at once on a matter of importance.  Then
+it was that Sir Bridgman seemed to notice Dorothy's excited state.
+With that courtesy that made him a great favourite with women, he
+poured out a glass of water from a carafe on a side table and handed it
+to her.  With her eyes she thanked him.  Sir Bridgman decided that she
+was an extremely pretty girl.  The water seemed to co-ordinate
+Dorothy's ideas.  For the first time she appreciated that she had
+unceremoniously burst into the private room of the First Lord of the
+Admiralty.
+
+"I--I'm very sorry," she faltered, "but it seemed so important, and Mr.
+Blair wouldn't let me come in."
+
+Sir Lyster nodded his approval of her action.  "You did quite right,
+Miss----"
+
+"West," said Dorothy.
+
+"Miss West," continued Sir Lyster.  "There are occasions when----"  He
+hesitated for a word.
+
+"John Dene's methods are best," suggested Sir Bridgman.
+
+Sir Lyster smiled; but there was no answering smile in Dorothy's eyes.
+
+"What do you think has happened?" she asked, looking from one to the
+other.
+
+"It's impossible to say," began Sir Lyster, "it's--it's----"
+
+"Spies," she said with a catch in her voice.  "I'm sure of it.  They've
+drugged him.  They tried to poison our food."
+
+"Poison your food," repeated Sir Lyster uncomprehendingly.
+
+"Yes," said Dorothy, and she proceeded to tell how it came about that
+the luncheon and dinners were supplied from an anonymous source.
+
+"That's Walton," said Admiral Heyworth, and the other nodded.
+
+For a few minutes they sat in silence, all waiting for the arrival of
+Colonel Walton.  When the telephone bell rang, Sir Lyster started
+perceptibly.  Taking up the receiver from the instrument he listened
+for a few seconds.
+
+"Show him in," he said; then, turning to the others, he explained:
+"Walton is out; but Sage is here."
+
+"Good," said Sir Bridgman, "sometimes Jack is better than his master."
+
+Sir Lyster looked at him meaningly, and then at Dorothy.
+
+With perfect self-possession Malcolm Sage entered, gave a short, jerky
+bow, and without invitation drew a chair up opposite to where Dorothy
+was sitting.  For a moment he gazed at her and saw the anxiety in her
+eyes.
+
+"Don't be alarmed," he said quietly, "the situation is well in hand."
+There was the ghost of a smile about the corners of his mouth.
+
+"Is he safe?" enquired Dorothy, leaning forward, whilst the three men
+looked at Sage as if not quite sure of his sanity.
+
+"I can only repeat what I have said," replied Sage, "the situation is
+well in hand."
+
+"But how the devil----" began Sir Bridgman.
+
+"I should like to ask Miss West a few questions," said Sage.
+
+Sir Bridgman subsided.
+
+"Why did you come here?" he asked, turning to Dorothy.
+
+"Mr. Dene didn't come this morning.  I waited until past two, then I
+rang up the Ritzton," she paused.
+
+"Go on," said Sage.
+
+"They told me he had not been back since yesterday morning."
+
+"And then?" enquired Sage.
+
+"I rang up Mr. Blair.  He had heard nothing, so I thought I had better
+come round and--and--I'm afraid I burst in here very rudely.  Mr.
+Blair----"
+
+"You did quite right, Miss West," said Sir Lyster.  "Why didn't you act
+before?"
+
+Dorothy felt Sage's eyes were burning through her brain, so intent was
+his gaze.  "I had forgotten about the taxi.  I--I--thought he might be
+unwell," said Dorothy.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Well," she began, and then paused.
+
+"Go on," said Sage encouragingly.
+
+"He has seemed rather strange for some days," she said, "his memory was
+very bad.  As a rule he has a wonderful memory, and never makes a note."
+
+"How was his memory bad?"
+
+"He seemed to forget what he had written, and was always having letters
+turned up."
+
+Sage nodded.  "Go on," he said.
+
+"Then," she continued, "he seemed to want always to put things off.  He
+was undecided; so unlike his normal self.  Most of the things he asked
+me to attend to."
+
+"And that made you think he was ill," suggested Sage.
+
+"Yes," she said, "that and other things."
+
+"What other things?"
+
+Dorothy screwed up her eyebrows, her head on one side, as if striving
+to find words to express what was in her mind.  "His manner was
+strange," she began.  "It is very difficult to give instances; but
+previously he had always been so pleasant and--and----"
+
+"Unconscious of himself, shall we say?" suggested Sage.
+
+"That's it," she said brightly.  "He was just Mr. Dene.  Afterwards he
+seemed to be always watching me, as if not quite sure who I was.  It
+was almost uncanny.  I thought perhaps----"  She hesitated.
+
+"What?"
+
+"That he was being drugged," she concluded reluctantly.
+
+"When did you first notice this?"
+
+"Let me see," said Dorothy.  "This is Tuesday.  It was on Thursday
+morning that I first noticed it.  What struck me then was that he said,
+'Good morning' when he came in."
+
+"And what did he usually say?" enquired Sage.
+
+"He used to say 'morning,' or what really sounded more like 'morn,'"
+she said with a smile.
+
+"Thank you," said Sage.  "Unless these gentlemen have any further
+questions to put to you, there is nothing more to be done at present."
+
+"But is he----" she began, then she paused.
+
+"I should not be unnecessarily alarmed, Miss West, if I were you," said
+Sage.  "Above all, keep your own counsel.  Mr. Dene disapproves of
+people who talk."
+
+"I know," said Dorothy, rising and drawing herself up with dignity.
+
+"I regard your prompt action as highly commendable, Miss West," said
+Sir Lyster.  "You will, of course, continue in attendance at the office
+until you hear further.  If anything unusual transpires, please get
+into touch with me immediately, even to the extent of----" he paused a
+moment.
+
+"Bursting in as you did just now," said Sir Bridgman with a laugh.
+"It's the real John Dene manner."
+
+"Exactly," said Sir Lyster.
+
+Sir Lyster conducted Dorothy into Mr. Blair's room.
+
+"Mr. Blair," he said, "if Miss West ever wishes to see me urgently,
+please tell me, no matter with whom I am engaged.  If I do not happen
+to be in, Sir Bridgman will see her, or failing that get through to
+Colonel Walton, or to Mr. Sage."
+
+Sir Lyster bowed to Dorothy and returned to his room.  Mr. Blair
+blinked his eyes in bewilderment; the influence of John Dene upon the
+British Admiralty was most extraordinary.
+
+"I don't understand the drift of all your questions, Mr. Sage," said
+Sir Lyster, resuming his seat.
+
+Malcolm Sage turned his eyes upon the First Lord.  "I will explain that
+later, sir," he said, "but for the present I must ask your indulgence."
+
+"But----" began Sir Lyster.
+
+"I might advance a hundred theories; but until I am sure it would be
+better for me to keep silence.  I must confer with my chief."
+
+Sir Bridgman nodded approval.
+
+"Quite so," said Sir Lyster.  "In the meantime what is to be done?"
+
+"Raise the hue and cry," said Sage quietly.
+
+"Good God, man!" exclaimed Sir Bridgman.  "It would give the whole game
+away."
+
+"I propose," said Sage quietly, "that photographs of John Dene be
+inserted in every paper in the kingdom, that every continental paper
+likewise has full particulars of his disappearance.  That you offer a
+thousand pounds reward for news that will lead to his discovery, and go
+on increasing it by a thousand every day until it reaches ten
+thousand."  Malcolm Sage paused; his three listeners stared at him as
+if he were out of his senses.
+
+"You seriously suggest this publicity?" enquired Sir Lyster in cold and
+even tones.
+
+"I do," said Sage.
+
+"You know why Mr. Dene is here."
+
+"I do."
+
+"And yet you still advise this course?" asked Sir Lyster.
+
+"I do," responded Sage.
+
+"Well, I'm damned!" said Sir Bridgman.
+
+For a moment a flicker of a smile crossed Malcolm Sage's serious
+features.
+
+"What are your reasons?" demanded Sir Lyster.
+
+"My reasons are closely connected with my conclusions, sir, and at the
+present time they are too nebulous to express."
+
+"We will consider this," said Sir Lyster with an air of concluding the
+interview.
+
+Malcolm Sage rose.  "The time is not one for consideration, sir," he
+said, "but for action.  If you hesitate in this publicity, I must ask
+your permission to see the Prime Minister;" then with a sudden change
+of tone and speaking with an air of great seriousness he added, "This
+is a matter of vital importance.  The announcement should be made in
+the late editions of all the evening papers, and the full story must
+appear in to-morrow's papers.  There is not much time.  Have I your
+permission to proceed?"
+
+"No, sir, you have not," thundered Sir Lyster.  "I shall report this
+matter to Colonel Walton."
+
+"That, sir, you are quite at liberty to do," said Sage calmly.
+"Incidentally you might report that I have resigned from my position at
+Department Z. I wish you good afternoon, gentlemen," and with that
+Malcolm Sage left the room.
+
+"Good Lord!  Grayne, you've done it now," said Sir Bridgman.  "L. J.
+thinks the world of that chap."
+
+"He's a most impertinent fellow," said Sir Lyster with heat.
+
+"Clever men frequently are," laughed Sir Bridgman.  "It seems to me
+that everybody's getting under the influence of John Dene.  I suppose
+it's Bolshevism," he muttered to himself.
+
+Half an hour later Colonel Walton was seated in earnest conversation
+with Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"It's very awkward, very awkward," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "still, you
+must act along your own lines.  It's no good creating a department and
+then allowing another department to dictate to it; but it's very
+awkward," he added.
+
+"It would be more awkward, sir, if Sage were allowed to go," said
+Colonel Walton.
+
+"Of course, of course," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "that's unthinkable.
+If I were only told," he muttered, "if I were only told.  They keep so
+much from me."  Then after a pause he added, "I'm inclined to blame
+you, though, Walton, for not--not----"  Mr. Llewellyn John hesitated.
+
+"Keeping John Dene under proper observation," suggested Colonel Walton
+quietly.
+
+"Exactly."  Mr. Llewellyn John looked at him quickly.
+
+"He was always guarded."
+
+"Then you----" began Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"Our men were tricked."
+
+"Tricked!"  Mr. Llewellyn John looked startled.
+
+"Yes," continued Colonel Walton.  "McLean was on duty that night.
+Immediately he saw John Dene hail a taxi, he jumped into his own taxi;
+but he had hardly started when he was run into by a small runabout, and
+the other taxi got away."
+
+"But the number of----"
+
+"Fictitious both, the taxi and the run-about.  We thought it expedient
+not to detain the man who ran into McLean," Colonel Walton added.
+
+For nearly a minute Mr. Llewellyn John sat staring at the Chief of
+Department Z.
+
+"It's most unfortunate, disastrous in fact," he said at length.  "We
+must try and get into touch with Auchinlech by wireless."
+
+"I'm afraid it will be useless," was the response.
+
+"There's the War Cabinet to be considered," murmured Mr. Llewellyn John
+to himself.  "The war does not----"  He hesitated.
+
+"Make men tractable," suggested Colonel Walton helpfully.
+
+"Exactly," agreed Mr. Llewellyn John.  "They may not take the same view
+as Sir Lyster and myself with regard to that memorandum of ours to
+Dene.  It's very awkward happening just now," he added, "with all this
+trouble about interning aliens."
+
+"What am I to do, sir?  There is very little time."
+
+"Do," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "why run your department in your own
+way, Walton."
+
+"I have an absolutely free hand?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+"Absolutely," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "but I wish you could tell me
+more."
+
+"To be quite frank, I'm as much in the dark as you are.  Sage is as
+obstinate as a pack-mule and as sure-footed.  He's no respecter of----"
+
+"Prime Ministers or First Lords," suggested Mr. Llewellyn John with a
+smile.
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"Well, go your own way," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "but I should like to
+know what it all means.  Frankly I'm puzzled.  We are cut off entirely
+from Auchinlech, and without John Dene the _Destroyer_ can't sail.
+We're losing valuable time.  It's very unfortunate; it's a disaster, in
+fact.  But," he burst out excitedly, "why on earth does Sage want to
+advertise our anxiety as to Dene's whereabouts?  That's what puzzles
+me."
+
+"It puzzles me too, sir," said Colonel Walton quietly.
+
+"It's such a confession of weakness," continued Mr. Llewellyn John,
+"such a showing of our hand.  What will people think when we offer ten
+thousand pounds for news of John Dene of Toronto?"
+
+"They'll probably think that he's an extremely valuable man," was the
+dry retort.
+
+"That's it exactly," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "and Berlin will
+congratulate itself upon a master-stroke."
+
+Colonel Walton felt inclined to suggest that was exactly what Malcolm
+Sage seemed most to desire; but he refrained.
+
+"Very well, Walton, carry on," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "but frankly I
+don't like it," he added half to himself.
+
+Colonel Walton left No. 110, Downing Street, and ten minutes later
+Malcolm Sage withdrew his resignation.
+
+Whilst Department Z. hummed and buzzed with energy, and men and women
+were coming and going continuously, Dorothy sat at the window of John
+Dene's room gazing out at a prospect of white enamelled bricks
+punctuated by windows.  She had nothing to do.  Everything seemed so
+different.  John Dene's impulsive energy had vitalised all about him.
+Now she felt as if all her faculties had suddenly wilted.
+
+In her own mind she was convinced that he was ill.  She could not blot
+from her mind the strangeness of his manner during the last few days.
+His sudden loss of memory proved that he was unwell.  For a man to
+forget where the postage stamps are kept, or the position in the room
+of the letter files, was, in itself, a proof that something very
+strange had suddenly come over him, the more so in the case of one who
+was almost aggressively proud of his memory.  Then there had been other
+little details.  His movements did not seem the same, that jerkiness
+and sudden upward glance from his table had disappeared.  It was as if
+he had been drugged.  Dorothy wondered if that really were the
+explanation.  Oh! but she was very miserable and horribly lonely.
+
+That night Dorothy and her mother sat up long after midnight talking of
+John Dene.  To both had come the realisation that he stood to them in
+the light of an intimate friend.
+
+As she said "Good night," Mrs. West put her arm round Dorothy's
+shoulders, and in a shaky voice said:
+
+"I don't think God would let anything happen to a good man like Mr.
+Dene;" and Dorothy turned and left the room abruptly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE HUE AND CRY
+
+The late editions of the evening papers contained no mention of the
+disappearance of John Dene.  For one thing much valuable time had been
+lost owing to the attitude of Sir Lyster Grayne, for another, Malcolm
+Sage had decided to make a great display in the morning papers.  All
+that afternoon Department Z. was feverishly busy.  Photographs of John
+Dene had to be duplicated, and the story distributed through the Press
+Bureau, in order that it might possess an official character.
+
+On the morning following the discovery of John Dene's disappearance,
+the British public was startled at its breakfast-table by an offer of
+L10,000 reward for details that would lead to the discovery of the
+whereabouts of one John Dene, a citizen of Toronto, Canada, who had
+last been seen at 6 p.m. on the previous Monday outside his offices in
+Waterloo Place.
+
+The notice drawn up by Department Z. ran:
+
+
+MISSING
+
+L10,000 REWARD
+
+Where is
+
+JOHN DENE of TORONTO?
+
+
+"On Monday at 6 p.m., Mr. John Dene, the well-known Canadian inventor
+and engineer of Toronto, left his offices in Waterloo Place, after
+bidding his secretary good night.  Since then a shroud of mystery seems
+to have enveloped his movements.
+
+~HIS SECRETARY BECOMES ALARMED~
+
+"His Secretary, Miss Dorothy West, arrived at the office at the usual
+time on Tuesday morning.  Mr. Dene was most punctual in his habits,
+invariably reaching his office a few minutes after nine.  Miss West
+waited until two o'clock, then fearing that he might be ill, she rang
+through to the Ritzton Hotel, where Mr. Dene was staying.  To her
+surprise she was informed that he had not returned to his hotel the
+night before.
+
+~WHERE IS JOHN DENE OF TORONTO?~
+
+"Miss West immediately got into communication with the head of a
+certain Government department with which Mr. Dene was associated; but
+nothing was known of his whereabouts.  The authorities have reason to
+believe that Mr. Dene has been spirited away by some organisation that
+has a special object in view.
+
+~IS IT FOUL PLAY?~
+
+"A reward of L10,000 will be paid to anyone who will give such
+information as will lead directly to the discovery of Mr. John Dene's
+whereabouts.  It may be added that Mr. Dene is a distinguished engineer
+and inventor, and it is the duty of every citizen of the British Empire
+to endeavour to assist the Authorities in tracing the missing man.
+
+~THIS IS WHAT HE IS LIKE.~
+
+"The following is a description of Mr. John Dene:--Height 5 ft. 5 ins.
+Clean shaven with grey eyes and a determined expression, invariably
+carried a cigar in his mouth, very frequently unlighted.  Has a
+peculiar habit of twisting and twirling the cigar in his mouth.  Thick
+set with keen, rather jerky movements, and a habit of looking at people
+suddenly and piercingly.  A square jaw and tightly closed lips.  When
+last seen was wearing a dark grey tweed suit, trilby hat, dark blue tie
+and brown boots.  Spoke with a marked Canadian accent.
+
+"All communications should be addressed to Scotland Yard, S.W."
+
+
+In addition to the foregoing semi-official particulars, there followed
+much information that had been gleaned by various reporters.  Most of
+the papers gave a leader, and several hinted at the hidden hand, urging
+that this new outrage obviously pointed to the necessity for the
+internment of all aliens.  Great emphasis was laid upon the importance
+of tracing the present whereabouts of John Dene of Toronto, and anyone
+who had seen a man at all answering to his description, was called upon
+to communicate with Scotland Yard.
+
+The afternoon papers contained practically the same information, but
+elaborated and adorned.  Several hinted at the fact that John Dene had
+come to England with a new invention of great importance, and that he
+had disappeared just on the eve of the fruition of his schemes, with
+the result that everything was at a stand-still.  In support of this
+theory the writers pointed to the amount of the reward.  Ten thousand
+pounds would not have been offered, they argued, unless there were good
+reasons for it.  One paper went so far as to suggest that the
+Government itself was offering the reward, although in its next issue
+it apologised for and contradicted the statement--this was a little
+stroke of Malcolm Sage's.
+
+Dorothy was besieged by interviewers, until at last she was forced to
+refrain from answering the succession of knocks at the outer door.  Her
+head was in a whirl.
+
+The prevailing topic of conversation was the disappearance of John
+Dene.  Everybody was asking why such a reward had been offered.  Shoals
+of letters descended upon Scotland Yard.  Hundreds of callers lined up
+in a queue, waiting their turn to be interviewed.  Telegrams rained in
+from the provinces.  Apparently John Dene had been seen in places as
+far distant as St. Andrews and Bournemouth, Aberystwyth and King's
+Lynn.  He had been observed in conversation with men, women and
+children, some of harmless, some of sinister appearance.  He had been
+seen in trains, 'buses, trams and cars.  He had been seen perturbed and
+calm, hastening and loitering, in uniform and in mufti.
+
+Scotland Yard was almost out of its mind, and the officer in charge of
+the John Dene investigation rang through to Malcolm Sage, demanding
+what the funny peter he was to do with the enormous correspondence, and
+the bewildering queue that already stretched along the Embankment
+halfway to Charing Cross railway-bridge.
+
+"Burn the telegrams and letters and tell the queue to write," was
+Sage's laconic response, as he put up the receiver, whereat the officer
+had sworn heavily into the mouth-piece of the instrument.
+
+The Chief Commissioner was particularly annoyed because all his own
+correspondence had been engulphed in the epistolary flood, and he was
+expecting a letter from his wife telling him where to meet her on the
+following day on her return from a motor tour.  Those who knew Lady
+Wrayle understood the Chief Commissioner's anxiety.
+
+All day long Scotland Yard worked in a conscientious endeavour to sift
+the mass of evidence that streamed in upon it from all parts of the
+kingdom.  Some of the stories to which weary but patient officials
+listened were grotesque in the extreme.  As the chief expressed it,
+"Half the idiots and all the damned fools in the country are descending
+upon us."
+
+The callers were interesting as studies in obtuseness and optimism; but
+they were as nothing to the telegrams.  One man wired from St. Andrews
+that he was tracking a strange man round the golf course, would
+Scotland Yard telegraph a warrant for his arrest?  Another enquired if
+the reward would be in cash or war bonds, and if the Government
+guaranteed the money--this man telegraphed from Aberdeen.  Several
+asked for railway warrants to London that they might lay certain facts
+before the authorities.  Scores telegraphed for photographs, as the
+pictures in the papers were indistinct.  One lady telegraphed from
+Suffolk that a man with a beard identical with that worn by John Dene
+in the picture in _The Daily Photo_ had that day come to her door
+begging.
+
+The telegrams were, however, nothing to the letters that followed them.
+The lady who had telegraphed about a bearded John Dene, wrote to
+apologise for her mistake, explaining it by saying that the paper boy
+must have accidentally rubbed the paper before delivering it.  She was
+not to be denied, however, and went on to say that she thought the
+picture strangely like the man who had begged of her.  Did Scotland
+Yard think that John Dene had disguised himself with a false beard?
+
+Some correspondents wrote bitterly censuring the Government for not
+interning all aliens, for allowing John Dene out of its sight, for an
+Imperialistic policy, for plunging the country into war, for offering
+the reward, and for a thousand and one other irrelevant things.  The
+one thing that no one did was to supply any information that would be
+remotely useful to the authorities in tracing the missing man.
+
+People waited eagerly for the morrow's papers.  They contained another
+surprise, this time in the form of a two column advertisement, offering
+L20,000 for information that would lead to the discovery of the
+whereabouts of John Dene.  Clearly somebody was determined that John
+Dene should be found.
+
+When Mr. Llewellyn John opened the first morning paper he picked up
+from the pile awaiting him he gasped.  Himself a great believer in the
+possibilities of the press, he felt, nevertheless, that Department Z.
+was overdoing things, and he telephoned for its chief and Malcolm Sage
+to call upon him at ten o'clock.
+
+At two minutes to ten, the two presented themselves at No. 110, Downing
+Street, and were immediately shown into the presence of the Prime
+Minister.
+
+"Has it struck you," asked Mr. Llewellyn John, indicating one of the
+advertisements, "that questions will be asked in the House as to
+whether or no the Government is offering these large rewards?"
+
+"I should think it highly probable, sir," was Sage's response.
+
+"And what are we to say?" demanded Mr. Llewellyn John.  He was a keen
+politician, and saw that the situation might be fraught with
+considerable difficulties.
+
+"Acknowledge that they are, sir," was the response.
+
+"Acknowledge it!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"Certainly, sir."
+
+"Mr. Sage," said Mr. Llewellyn John severely, "you do not appear to
+appreciate that this may seriously compromise the Government."  Then
+turning to Colonel Walton he continued: "Hitherto you have been given a
+free hand, now I must ask you to explain why you are offering these
+large rewards.  You first of all suggested L1,000, rising daily from
+L1,000 to L10,000.  In two days it has amounted to L20,000."
+
+"It won't rise any higher, sir.  It has reached the limit."
+
+"That is not the point," said Mr. Llewellyn John.  "I want to know why
+it is that you are advertising to Germany that we want John Dene.  It
+is an obvious confession of weakness."  He made a quick nervous
+movement with his right hand, he was far from easy in his mind.
+
+Malcolm Sage continued to examine his finger-nails with great
+intentness.
+
+Seeing that he made no indication of replying, Mr. Llewellyn John
+continued:
+
+"I'm afraid that this cannot go on."  There was a suggestion of
+irritability in his voice.
+
+"Then have it stopped, sir," said Sage calmly, still intent upon the
+finger-nails of his right hand.
+
+"The mischief is done," said Mr. Llewellyn John.  "What is at the back
+of your mind, Sage?" he demanded.
+
+"I'm working on a hypothesis, sir," was the reply.  "I think I'm right,
+in fact I'm convinced of it; but until I know for certain, I must keep
+my theories to myself.  If you wish it, I'll tell you what I actually
+know; but I make it a rule never to air theories."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.  "Well, tell me what you actually know
+then," he said.
+
+"When Mr. Dene left his office at three minutes past six on Monday
+evening, he stood for nearly a minute, as if making up his mind in what
+direction to go.  Just as he was about to turn and walk up Regent
+Street a taxi crawled past him.  The driver spoke to him and John Dene
+got in and drove away."
+
+"Kidnapped!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+Malcolm Sage shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"In which direction did he drive?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John eagerly.
+
+"Along Pall Mall, sir," was the reply.  "Colonel Walton told you what
+happened?"
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John nodded.  "And have you informed the police?" he
+asked.
+
+Malcolm Sage shook his head.
+
+"Why?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John eagerly.
+
+"If my theory is right," said Sage, "it's unnecessary.  If my theory's
+wrong, it's useless.  Believe me, sir, our best course is to continue
+to boom John Dene's disappearance for all we are worth."
+
+"But the _Destroyer_!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John excitedly.
+
+"You know the conditions, sir, that the island of Auchinlech was to be
+left severely alone for four months."
+
+"Do you imagine that Dene slipped off to the north to trick the
+Germans?"
+
+"That wouldn't trick them, sir," said Malcolm Sage quietly.  "John Dene
+would never have been allowed to reach Auchinlech alive.  That was
+settled.  I may add that I have every reason to believe that the taxi
+and its occupant did not go fifty miles from London."
+
+"And that he is a prisoner?"  Mr. Llewellyn John jumped from his chair.
+
+Malcolm Sage inclined his head in the affirmative.
+
+"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John, "we must----"
+
+"Depend entirely upon the advertisements," said Sage, rising.  "You
+will of course regard this as strictly confidential, and to be told to
+no one.  I cannot tell you how important it is."  There was an
+unaccustomed note of seriousness in Sage's voice, which did not fail to
+impress Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"But the questions in the House as to why we are offering this reward?"
+persisted Mr. Llewellyn John.  "What reply are we to make?"
+
+"You might fall back on the old cliche, sir: 'Wait and see.'"
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.
+
+"That phrase," continued Sage, "was a great asset to one party, why
+should it not be to another?"
+
+"Look at this."  Mr. Llewellyn John held out a slip of paper, which
+Colonel Walton took and read aloud.
+
+"Has the attention of the Home Secretary been drawn to a statement in
+_The Tribune_ to the effect that it is the Government that is offering
+the reward of L10,000 for information that will lead to the discovery
+of the whereabouts of Mr. John Dene of Toronto, and if so can it
+justify the offer of so large a sum of public money?"
+
+"They haven't lost any time," remarked Sage quietly.
+
+"They never do."  There was an unaccustomed note of irascibility in Mr.
+Llewellyn John's voice.  "These questions are a scandal."
+
+"Except when one happens to be in opposition, sir," said Sage,
+apparently absorbed in examining the nails of his left hand.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John made no response, and Colonel Walton handed back to
+him the slip, which he tossed upon the table.
+
+"Well," he demanded, looking from Colonel Walton to Sage, "what are we
+to reply?"
+
+"The answer is in the affirmative, sir," said Malcolm Sage.
+
+For a moment Mr. Llewellyn John looked at him, frowning, then he broke
+into a smile.
+
+"That's all very well, Sage, but it's not sufficient."
+
+"If I may venture a suggestion----" began Sage.
+
+"Do--do, that's why I sent for you--both," he added, as if in deference
+to Colonel Walton.
+
+"I would say that for reasons not unconnected with the prosecution of
+the war, the discovery of Mr. John Dene's whereabouts is imperative."
+
+"But that would be giving us away more than ever."
+
+"I think it would be desirable to temporise," said Sage.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John made a movement of impatience.
+
+"You might reply that it is not in the public interest to answer the
+question," continued Sage.
+
+"But that would be tantamount to acknowledging that we are offering the
+reward," said Mr. Llewellyn John with a suspicion of irritation in his
+voice.
+
+Malcolm Sage looked at him steadily, but without speaking.
+
+"There will inevitably be other questions arising out of this,"
+continued Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"I was going to suggest, sir, that if we could arrange for some
+newspaper to make a definite statement that the Government is offering
+the reward, we could prosecute it under D.O.R.A."
+
+For fully a minute Mr. Llewellyn John gazed at Malcolm Sage, as if not
+quite sure of his sanity.  "But," he began, and then broke off, looking
+helplessly across at Colonel Walton.
+
+"Of course, sir, I'll relinquish the enquiry if you wish it."
+
+"This is not the time to talk of relinquishing anything, Sage," said
+Mr. Llewellyn John with some asperity in his tone.  "What I want to
+know is what all this means."
+
+"That's exactly what I'm endeavouring to discover," said Sage evenly.
+"If I were a stage detective, I should be down on my knees smelling
+your carpet, or examining Pall Mall with a strong lens; but I'm not.  I
+never carry a magnifying-glass and I know nothing about finger-prints.
+The solving of mysteries, like the detection of crime, is invariably
+due to a mistake on the part of somebody who ought not to have made a
+mistake."
+
+"Then tell me how far you have got."  Mr. Llewellyn John glanced across
+to Colonel Walton, and was conscious of a slight knitting of his brows,
+then he looked back again at Malcolm Sage, who for some moments
+remained silent.
+
+"If you were uncertain of my sanity, sir," said Sage quietly, "would
+you discuss the matter with others, or would you first assure yourself
+of the accuracy of your suspicions?"
+
+He looked up suddenly, straight into Mr. Llewellyn John's eyes.
+
+"We all know you are hopelessly and irretrievably mad, Sage," said Mr.
+Llewellyn John with a smile.
+
+"When I know definitely what has become of John Dene, I'll tell you,
+sir," said Sage.  "I'm not spectacular, sir.  I can't deduce bigamy
+from a bootlace, or murder from a meringue.  I can tell you this,
+however"--he paused and both his listeners leaned forward
+eagerly--"that if my hypothesis is correct, the policy to pursue is to
+magnify the importance of John Dene's disappearance.  Incidentally," he
+added, "it might result in Mr. John Dene revising his opinion of the
+incapacity of British officialdom."
+
+"Then you refuse to tell me?"
+
+"It would be highly injudicious on my part to tell you of a mere
+suspicion which might----"  Malcolm Sage lifted his eye from the nail
+of his left thumb, and looked straight at Mr. Llewellyn John--"which
+might dictate your policy, sir."
+
+"But the time we are wasting," protested Mr. Llewellyn John, rising and
+pacing up and down impatiently.
+
+"Nothing is lost that's wrought with tears, sir," was the enigmatical
+response.
+
+"Sage," said Mr. Llewellyn John, as he shook hands with Malcolm Sage,
+"you're the most pig-headed official in the British Empire.
+Chappeldale can be tiresome; but you're nothing short of an
+inconvenience.  Mind, Walton," he continued, turning to the chief of
+Department Z., "I shall hold you responsible for Sage.  If he lets me
+down over this Dene business, I shall lose faith in Department Z."  The
+smile that accompanied his words, however, robbed them of any sting
+they might have contained.
+
+"Why don't you take the Skipper into your confidence, Sage?" enquired
+Walton, as they walked towards the Duke of York's steps.
+
+"Vanity, chief, sheer vanity," was the response.  "We have never failed
+him yet, and if I started barking up the wrong tree, he'd never again
+have confidence in Department Z.  I suppose," he added irrelevantly,
+"that some day we shall be taken over altogether by the colonies.  It
+would not be a bad thing for the British Empire, either.  John Dene
+might be our first president."
+
+There was one man who was deeply thankful for the disappearance of John
+Dene.  Mr. Blair went about as if he had received a new lease of life.
+He became almost sprightly in his demeanour, and no longer looked up
+apprehensively when the door of his room opened.  Sir Bridgman North
+commented on the circumstance to Sir Lyster Grayne and, as he passed
+through Mr. Blair's room, openly taxed him with being responsible for
+the kidnapping of John Dene.  Mr. Blair smiled a little wearily; for to
+him John Dene was no matter for joking.
+
+When Mr. McShane's question with regard to the disappearance of John
+Dene came up for answer, the Home Secretary replied that for the
+present at least it was not in the public interest to give the
+information required.
+
+"That's tantamount to an acknowledgment," cried Mr. McShane, springing
+to his feet.  "It's a scandal that public money----"
+
+He got no further, as at this point he was called to order by the
+Speaker.
+
+It was clear that the House was not satisfied.  In the lobbies Mr.
+McShane's question and the answer given were discussed to an extent out
+of all proportion to their apparent importance.  The feeling seemed to
+be that if John Dene were of such value to the Government, he should
+have been guarded with a care that would have prevented the possibility
+of his disappearance.  If on the other hand the Government had no
+interest in the enormous reward offered for information concerning him,
+then a statement to that effect should have been made.  Whatever the
+facts, the Government was obviously in the wrong.  That was the general
+impression.
+
+The next day several newspapers commented very strongly upon the
+incident.  There seemed to be a determination on the part of the press
+to make an "affaire John Dene" out of the Canadian's disappearance.
+The Government was attacked for adopting German bureaucratic methods.
+"A dark age of bureaucracy is settling down upon the country," said
+_The Morning Age_.  "The real danger of Prussianism is not military,
+but bureaucratic."
+
+The Government was called upon to lift the curtain of mystery with
+which it had surrounded itself.  If it were responsible for the rewards
+offered, then let it say so.  If, however, these rewards were in no way
+connected with the Government, then a denial should immediately be
+made.  At the moment everybody regarded the Government as responsible
+for the tremendous press campaign resulting from John Dene's
+disappearance.
+
+Malcolm Sage read the newspapers with obvious relish.  Mr. Llewellyn
+John, on the other hand, frowned heavily at finding his administration
+attacked.  The Home Secretary rang up the Deputy-Commissioner at
+Scotland Yard, telling him that something must be done, and the
+Deputy-Commissioner had replied with some heat that if the Home
+Secretary would step across to the Yard, he would see what actually was
+being done.  He further intimated that the whole work of the Yard had
+been disorganised.
+
+The Prime Minister sent over for Colonel Walton.  "Look here, Walton,"
+he cried as the chief of Department Z. entered the room.  "This affair
+is getting rather out of hand, and it looks dangerous.  You've seen the
+papers?"
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.  He was a man to whom words came with difficulty.
+
+"Well, I don't like the look of it," continued Mr. Llewellyn John.
+"Sir Roger has just rung through that he's been urging Scotland Yard to
+greater efforts."
+
+"They can do no harm," remarked Colonel Walton drily.
+
+"I want Sage to go round and see the Deputy-Commissioner."
+
+"I doubt if he'll do it," was the grim response.
+
+"Not do it!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John, with a note of anger in his
+voice.
+
+"In fact, I'm quite sure he won't."
+
+"If you tell him that those are my instructions----" began Mr.
+Llewellyn John.
+
+"It's no use, sir, he'll merely resign.  He's as independent as an
+American boot-boy."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John flopped down in a chair, and sat gazing at Colonel
+Walton.  "But he's got us into this muddle," he began.
+
+"I've never known Sage's judgment at fault yet," replied Colonel Walton.
+
+"Then you advise----" began Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"I never venture to advise," was the reply.
+
+"Now look here, Walton," said Mr. Llewellyn John persuasively, "this is
+a very serious matter.  It has already been magnified out of all
+proportion to its actual importance.  I want to know what you would do
+if you were in my place."
+
+"Exactly as Sage advises," was the terse response.
+
+"Why, you're as bad as he is," grumbled Mr. Llewellyn John.  "Still, I
+suppose I must do as you suggest.  I don't like the look of things,
+however.  It's invariably the neglected trifle that wrecks a
+government."
+
+The mysterious disappearance of John Dene was made the subject of
+special consideration at a meeting of the War Cabinet.  It was urged
+that the curious nature of the circumstances exonerated the Prime
+Minister and the First Lord of the Admiralty from the personal pledge
+they had given to John Dene, and that it was a matter of vital national
+importance that the _Destroyer_ should be put into commission with the
+least possible delay.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John looked interrogatingly across at Sir Lyster Grayne,
+who shook his head decisively.
+
+"We have given a personal pledge," he said, "under no circumstances
+whatever to communicate or endeavour to communicate other than by
+wireless with the island of Auchinlech for the period of four months
+from the date of our undertaking.  The words 'under no circumstances
+whatever' admit of only one interpretation."
+
+"But," protested Sir Roger Flynn, the Home Secretary, "Mr. Dene could
+not have foreseen his own disappearance.  Circumstances surely alter
+the aspect of the case," he urged.
+
+"If you, Flynn, were to promise under no circumstances to move from
+this room, then fire or flood would not justify you in breaking that
+promise," said Sir Lyster with decision.  He was notorious for his
+punctiliousness in matters of personal honour.  "What was possible to
+the Roman sentry is imperative with responsible Ministers," he added.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John nodded, and made a mental note of the phrase.
+
+"Besides," continued Sir Lyster, "Mr. Dene was particularly emphatic on
+this point.  I recall his saying to the Prime Minister, 'When I say
+under no circumstances, I mean under no circumstances,' and he went on
+to expound his interpretation of the phrase."
+
+"But," persisted Sir Roger, "if the majority of the War Cabinet take
+the opposite view, then you and the Prime Minister would be absolved
+from your promise."
+
+"Nothing can absolve a man from his personal pledge," was Sir Lyster's
+calm retort.  "He can be outvoted politically; but he has always his
+alternative, resignation."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John looked up quickly.  "I think," he said, "that Grayne
+is right.  Nothing can absolve us from our pledge."
+
+"The point is," said Sir Roger, "what is happening at Auchinlech?"  He
+fixed an almost accusing eye upon Sir Lyster Grayne, who merely shook
+his head with the air of one who has been asked an insoluble conundrum.
+
+"Here we are," continued Sir Roger indignantly, "with a weapon that
+would exercise a considerable effect in bringing victory nearer,
+debarred from using it because--
+
+"The Prime Minister has given his word," interpolated Sir Lyster
+quietly.
+
+Sir Roger glared at him.  "Death nullifies a contract of this
+description," retorted Sir Roger.
+
+"But the Prime Minister is not yet dead," said Sir Lyster drily.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John started slightly.  He did not like these references
+to death and resignation.
+
+"In law----" began Sir Roger.
+
+"This is not a matter of law, but of a private promise."  Sir Lyster
+was insistent.
+
+"I think, gentlemen, you are looking at it from different points of
+view," interrupted Mr. Llewellyn John with a tactful smile.  "Let us
+hope that Mr. John Dene will be found.  If it can be proved he is dead,
+then we shall be fully justified in sending to Auchinlech, acquainting
+his second-in-command with what has happened, and instructing him to
+assume command of the _Destroyer_ in accordance with Mr. Dene's wishes."
+
+The matter was then dropped, although it was clear that the members of
+the War Cabinet were not at one on the subject either of John Dene or
+his disappearance.
+
+The Home Secretary promised personally to urge the police to greater
+efforts.
+
+Slowly and with infinite labour Scotland Yard sifted the enormous
+volume of evidence that poured in upon it, proving conclusively that
+John Dene had been seen in every part of the United Kingdom, not to
+mention a number of places on the Continent.  Police officers swore and
+perspired as they strove to grapple with this enormous problem.  Night
+and day they worked with the frenzy of despair.  They cursed the war,
+they cursed the colonies, they cursed John Dene.  Why had he not stayed
+in Toronto and disappeared there, if he must disappear anywhere.  Why
+had he come to London to drive to desperation an already over-worked
+department?
+
+One thing that the police found particularly embarrassing was that
+constables were constantly being called upon, by enthusiastic and
+excited members of the public, to arrest inoffensive citizens on the
+suspicion of their being John Dene of Toronto.  In some instances the
+constables would point out that no resemblance existed; but the
+invariable reply was that the object of suspicion was disguised.
+
+All these false scents were duly reported to headquarters through the
+local police-stations, with no other result than to increase the
+sultriness of the atmosphere at Scotland Yard.
+
+An elaborate description of John Dene was sent to every coroner and
+mortuary-attendant in the country.  The river police were advised to
+keep a sharp look-out for floating bodies.  In its heart of hearts
+Scotland Yard yearned to discover proof of the death of John Dene,
+whilst all the time it worked steadily through the deluge of
+correspondence, and listened patiently to the testimonies of the
+avaricious optimists who were convinced that they, and they alone,
+could supply the necessary information that would lead to the discovery
+of the whereabouts of John Dene, and transfer to themselves the not
+inconsiderable sum of L20,000.
+
+"If ever another blighter comes from Toronto," remarked
+Detective-Inspector Crabbett, as he mopped his brow, "it would be worth
+while for the Yard to subscribe L20,000 for him to disappear quietly."
+Having thus relieved his feelings he plunged once more into the opening
+of letters, letters that convinced him that the whole population of
+Great Britain and Ireland had gone suddenly mad.
+
+Articles appeared in many of the German newspapers upon the subject of
+the mysterious disappearance of John Dene.  A great point was made of
+the fact that he was an inventor, and was known to be in close touch
+with the British war chiefs.  Emphasis was laid upon the extraordinary
+efforts being made to discover his whereabouts.  "It is inconceivable,"
+said the _Koelnische Zeitung_, "that the anxiety of the relatives of
+the missing man could have prompted them to offer a reward of 400,000
+marks for news of his whereabouts, and that _within two days of his
+disappearance_.  Imagine a private citizen in Germany being absent from
+home for two days, and his friends offering this colossal reward for
+news of him.  What would be said?"  The writer went on to point out
+that behind this almost hysterical anxiety of the English to find John
+Dene lay a mystery that, whatever its solution might be, _was certainly
+not detrimental to German interests_.
+
+The _Vorwaerts_ hinted darkly at something more than John Dene having
+disappeared, a something that was so embarrassing the British
+authorities, as to be likely to have a very serious influence upon the
+conduct of the war.
+
+The _Berliner Tageblatt_ openly stated that the British Admiralty was
+offering the reward, and left its readers to draw their own
+conclusions.  "Victory," it concluded, "is not always won with
+machine-guns and high-explosive.  Fitness to win means something more
+than well-trained battalions and valiant soldiers; it means a perfect
+organisation in every department of the great game of war; violence,
+bluff and intrigue.  The country with the best-balanced machinery was
+the country that would win, because it was _fit_ to win."
+
+In Germany, where everybody does everything at the top of his voice,
+italics are very popular.  An excitable people think and live italics,
+and a daily newspaper either reflects its public or ceases to be.
+
+With great tact the Paris papers limited themselves to the "news"
+element in John Dene's disappearance, reproducing his portrait, with
+the details translated from the London dailies.
+
+The neutral press was frankly puzzled.  Those favourable to Germany saw
+in this incident a presage of victory for the Fatherland; whilst the
+pro-Allies journals hinted at the fact that someone had blundered in
+giving such publicity to an event that should have been regarded as a
+subject for the consideration of the War Cabinet rather than for the
+daily press.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+MR. LLEWELLYN JOHN BECOMES ALARMED
+
+
+I
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John was obviously troubled.  With the forefinger of his
+right hand he tapped the table meditatively as he gazed straight in
+front of him.  The disappearance of John Dene was proving an even
+greater source of embarrassment to the War Cabinet than the internment
+of aliens.  The member of parliament who translated his duty to his
+constituents into asking as many awkward questions as possible of the
+Government, found a rich source of inspiration in the affaire John Dene.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John disliked questions; but never had he shown so
+whole-hearted an antipathy for interrogation as in the case of John
+Dene.  The fact of the Home Secretary being responsible for the answers
+constituted an additional embarrassment, as Sir Roger Flynn was frankly
+critical of his chief in regard to the disappearance of John Dene.  He
+had not been consulted in the matter of offering a reward, as he should
+have been, and he was piqued.
+
+His answers to the questions that seemed to rain down upon him from all
+parts of the House were given in anything but a conciliatory tone, and
+the method he adopted of "dispatching them in batches like rebels," as
+Mr. Chappeldale put it, still further alienated from the Government the
+sympathy of the more independent members.  In this Mr. Llewellyn John
+saw a smouldering menace that might at any time burst into flame.
+
+He had come to wish with deep-rooted earnestness that Sir Roger Flynn
+would take a holiday.  He had even gone to the length of suggesting
+that the Home Secretary was not looking altogether himself; but Sir
+Roger had not risen to the bait.
+
+"Ah! here you are," cried Mr. Llewellyn John with a smile, that in no
+way mirrored the state of his feelings, as Sir Roger entered, and with
+a nod dropped into a chair.
+
+"Eight more questions on the paper," he said grimly.  "I suppose you
+appreciate the seriousness of it all."
+
+"What would you suggest doing?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John tactfully.
+
+"Get a new lock for the stable door now the horse is gone," was the
+uncompromising retort.
+
+"I've asked Colonel Walton to step round," said Mr. Llewellyn John,
+ignoring his colleague's remark.
+
+"It's all that fellow Sage," grumbled Sir Roger.  "I went round to see
+him yesterday, and he was as urbane as a money-lender."
+
+"But surely you wouldn't quarrel----"
+
+"I always quarrel with a fool who doesn't see the consequences likely
+to arise out of his folly," said Sir Roger.
+
+"If he would only play golf," murmured Mr. Llewellyn John plaintively.
+
+"He'd resign at the first green because someone had shouted 'fore.'
+The man's a freak!"  Sir Roger was very downright this morning.
+
+"I wish we had a few more of the same sort," was Mr. Llewellyn John's
+smiling rejoinder.
+
+Sir Roger grumbled something in his throat.  Malcolm Sage was too often
+in antagonism with his Department for the Home Secretary to contemplate
+with anything but alarm a multiplicity of Sages.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John, who deeply commiserated with those heads of
+departments who had suffered from Malcolm Sage's temperament, was
+always anxious to keep him from coming into direct touch with other
+Ministers: the invariable result was a protest from the Minister, and
+resignation from Malcolm Sage.
+
+Once he had been summoned before the War Cabinet to expound and explain
+a certain rather complicated enquiry in connection with a missing
+code-book.  Before he had been in the room five minutes he had resigned.
+
+At Scotland Yard he was known as "Sage and Onions," the feebleness of
+the _jeu d'esprit_ being to some extent mitigated by the venom with
+which it was uttered.  Nothing short of the anti-criminal traditions of
+the Yard had saved Malcolm Sage from assassination at the hands of its
+outraged officials.
+
+His indifference was to them far more galling than contempt.  He seemed
+sublimely unconscious of the fact that he was not popular with the
+police officials, a circumstance that merely added to the dislike with
+which he was regarded.
+
+There was much to be said for Scotland Yard, which was called upon to
+carry out instructions from "a pack of blinking amachoors," as one of
+Sage's most pronounced antagonists had phrased it.  Added to which was
+the fact that they were dealing with a man who seemed entirely unable
+to discriminate between courtesy and venomous hatred.  Like the German
+nation, the officials discovered that there was little virtue in a hymn
+of hate that was not recognised as such.
+
+"It's no good scrapping a man because he doesn't keep to your own
+time-table," said Mr. Llewellyn John, mentally making a note of the
+phrase for future use.
+
+Sir Roger had remarked that the Prime Minister lay awake half the night
+coining phrases which would not win the war.
+
+"This John Dene has caused more trouble at the Home Office than all the
+rest of the war put together."  Sir Roger was obviously in a bad temper.
+
+"We must learn to think Imperially, my dear Flynn."
+
+The Home Secretary made a movement of impatience.  "There'll be murder
+at Scotland Yard one of these days," he announced.  "That fellow Sage
+goads the officials there to madness."
+
+"And yet he's so popular with his own men," said Mr. Llewellyn John.
+"At Department Z. they would do anything for him."
+
+"Well, I wish they'd do it and keep him there."
+
+Whilst Mr. Llewellyn John and Sir Roger Flynn were discussing
+Department Z., Colonel Walton was seated at his table drawing diagrams
+upon the blotting paper, and Malcolm Sage sat opposite, engaged in the
+never-ending examination of his finger-nails.
+
+"The Skipper's got the wind up, Sage," said Colonel Walton.
+
+"I expected as much."
+
+"I've got to go round there in a quarter of an hour.  Sir Roger's
+trying to force his hand."
+
+"Let him," said Malcolm Sage.
+
+Colonel Walton shook his head with a smile.  "That's all very well,
+Sage; but it isn't the language of diplomacy."
+
+"Ours isn't the department of diplomacy, chief.  Why not promise him
+something dramatic in a few weeks' time?  That's bound to appeal to
+him."  For a moment a fugitive smile flittered across Sage's features.
+"I think," he added, "we shall surprise him."
+
+"In the meantime we must be diplomatic," said Colonel Walton.  "That's
+why I'm not taking you with me this morning."
+
+"You think I'd resign," queried Sage with an odd movement at the
+corners of his mouth.
+
+"I'm sure of it," was the response, as Colonel Walton rose.  "I suppose
+you know," he continued, "that Scotland Yard is absolutely congested.
+You can have no idea of what Sir Roger said when I met him in Whitehall
+yesterday."
+
+"If it's anything at all like what comes through to me----" and Malcolm
+Sage shrugged his shoulders.
+
+Ten minutes later Colonel Walton was shown into Mr. Llewellyn John's
+room.
+
+"Ah! here you are," cried Mr. Llewellyn John, as he motioned Colonel
+Walton to a seat.  "Is there any news?"
+
+"None, sir," was the response.
+
+"This is getting very serious, Walton," said Mr. Llewellyn John,
+"something really must be done."
+
+"Have you tried Scotland Yard, sir?" asked Colonel Walton evenly,
+looking across at Sir Roger, who made a movement as if to speak, but
+evidently thought better of it.
+
+"I didn't mean that as a rebuke, Walton," said Mr. Llewellyn John
+diplomatically.  "But this John Dene business is really most awkward.
+Scotland Yard has apparently been entirely disorganised through your
+advertisements, and Sir Roger has just been telling me that there are
+eight more questions down on the paper for to-day.  Every day the
+Admiralty endeavours to call up Auchinlech by wireless," continued Mr.
+Llewellyn John, "but they can get no response."
+
+"The thing is, where is John Dene?" demanded Sir Roger, speaking for
+the first time, and looking at Colonel Walton, as if he suspected him
+of having the missing man secreted about his person.
+
+"I think the popular conception of the detective is responsible for all
+the trouble," said Colonel Walton quietly, looking from Sir Roger to
+the Prime Minister.
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Sir Roger.
+
+"I think Sage expressed it fairly accurately," continued Colonel
+Walton, "when he said that if a man disappears, or a criminal is
+wanted, the detective is always expected to produce him as a conjurer
+does a guinea-pig out of a top hat."
+
+"It isn't that," said Mr. Llewellyn John irritably.  "It's the reward
+that's causing all the trouble."
+
+"What is the detective for if it's not to solve mysteries?" demanded
+Sir Roger aggressively.
+
+"I think that is a question for Scotland Yard, sir," said Colonel
+Walton.
+
+Sir Roger flushed angrily, and was about to speak when Mr. Llewellyn
+John stepped into the breach.
+
+"You know, Walton, we have to consider the political aspect," he said.
+
+"What is Department Z.'s conception of the detective then?" demanded
+Sir Roger.
+
+"To watch for the other side's mistakes and take advantage of them,"
+was the reply, "just as in politics," with a smile at Mr. Llewellyn
+John.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John nodded agreement.
+
+"You remember the Winthorpe murder case, Sir Roger?"
+
+"I do," said the Home Secretary.
+
+"There Scotland Yard tracked a man who had been three weeks at large.
+He made the mistake of calling somewhere for his washing, and the
+police had been watching the place for three weeks."
+
+"That's all very well," said Sir Roger, obviously annoyed.  "But you
+must remember, Colonel Walton, that this John Dene business has a
+political significance.  It's--it's embarrassing the Government."
+
+"But while they are worrying about that," remarked Colonel Walton
+imperturbably, "they're dropping the 'intern all aliens' cry."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.
+
+"I'm convinced," he said, "that there's quite a large section of the
+public that would like me to intern everybody whose name is not Smith,
+Brown, Jones or Robinson."
+
+"Or Sage," suggested Colonel Walton slyly.
+
+"Sage!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John, "he ought to be in the Tower.  But
+seriously, Walton.  What I want to know is how long this will last?"
+
+"In all probability until the full four months have expired," was the
+rejoinder.
+
+"Good heavens!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John in consternation.
+
+"I should not be alarmed, sir, if I were you," said Colonel Walton with
+a smile.  "The public will soon get another cry.  Sage suggests they
+may possibly hang an ex-minister."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John laughed.  Colonel Walton's reference was to a
+previous Prime Minister who on one occasion had enquired of a
+distinguished general if he had ever contemplated the effect on the
+public of the possibility of Great Britain losing the war.  "They'd
+hang you, sir," the general had replied, leaning forward and tapping
+the then Prime Minister on the knee with an impressive forefinger.
+
+For a few moments there was silence, broken at length by Sir Roger.
+
+"But that does not relieve my congested Department," he said
+complainingly.
+
+"I'm afraid," said Colonel Walton, turning to Mr. Llewellyn John, "that
+it's impossible for Department Z. to work along any but its own lines.
+If Sage and I do not possess the confidence of the War Cabinet, may I
+suggest that we be relieved of our duties."
+
+"Good heavens, Walton!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John.  "Surely you're not
+going to start resigning."
+
+"In the light of Sir Roger's remark, it's the only course open for me,"
+was the dignified retort, as Colonel Walton rose.
+
+"No, no," murmured Mr. Llewellyn John, looking across at the Home
+Secretary.  "You must remember, Walton, that Sir Roger has had a very
+trying time owing to--to these--advertisements, and--and----"
+
+He paused and again he looked expectantly at Sir Roger, who seemed
+engrossed in fingering the lower button of his waistcoat.
+
+"Neither Sage nor I have any desire to embarrass you or the Home
+Secretary," continued Colonel Walton, "but----"
+
+"I'm sure of it, Walton, I'm sure of it, and so is Sir Roger."  Again
+Mr. Llewellyn John looked across at his colleague who, seeming to lose
+interest in his lower waistcoat button, suddenly looked up.
+
+"The question is, how long is this to continue?" he asked.
+
+For some moments Colonel Walton did not reply.  He appeared to be
+weighing something in his mind.
+
+"We're up against the cleverest organisation in the world," he said at
+length, "and Sage believes that a single man controls the lot."
+
+"Nonsense!" broke in Sir Roger.  "This spy craze is pure imagination."
+
+"In any case it causes the War Cabinet a great amount of concern," said
+Mr. Llewellyn John drily.
+
+"I think," proceeded Colonel Walton, "that before the expiration of the
+four months stipulated for by John Dene, Department Z. will have
+justified itself."
+
+"How?" demanded Sir Roger.
+
+"I can say nothing more," said Colonel Walton, moving towards the door,
+"at present."
+
+"Well, carry on, Walton," said Mr. Llewellyn John and, with a wave of
+his hand, "and good luck."
+
+"Those two men have megalomania in its worst possible form," growled
+Sir Roger, as he too rose to take his departure.
+
+"Well, if they don't make good on this," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "you
+can decide whether or not their resignations be accepted."
+
+With a nod Sir Roger left the room, conscious that he had to explain to
+the permanent officials at the Home Office why Department Z. was still
+in being.
+
+
+II
+
+During the weeks that followed the disappearance of John Dene, a
+careful observer of Apthorpe Road could not have failed to observe the
+trouble that it was apparently giving the local authorities.  A
+fatality seemed to brood over this unfortunate thoroughfare.  First of
+all the telephone mains seemed to go wrong.  Workmen came, and later
+there arrived a huge roll of lead-covered cable.  Labour was scarce,
+and never did labourers work less industriously for their hire.
+
+On the morning after the arrival of the men, Mr. Montagu Naylor paused
+at the spot where they were working, and for a minute or two stood
+watching them with interest.
+
+Was there any danger of the telephone system being interrupted?
+
+No, the cable was being laid as a precaution.  The existing cable was
+showing faults.
+
+Mr. Naylor passed on his way, and from time to time would exchange
+greetings with the men.  They were extremely civil fellows, he decided.
+Mr. Naylor felt very English.
+
+The telephone men had not completed their work when the water-main, as
+if jealous of the care and attention being lavished upon a rival
+system, developed some strange and dangerous symptoms, involving the
+picking up of the road.
+
+Again Mr. Naylor showed interest, and learned that the water pressure
+was not all that it should be in the neighbourhood, and it was thought
+that some foreign substance had got into the pipes.  Just as the
+watermen were preparing to pack up and take a leisurely departure, two
+men, their overalls smeared and spotted with red-lead, arrived at the
+end of the street with a hand-barrow.
+
+In due course a cutting of some fifteen or twenty feet was made in the
+roadway, and the reek of stale gas assailed the nostrils of the
+passer-by.
+
+Obviously some shadow of misfortune brooded over Apthorpe Road, for no
+sooner were these men beginning to pack up their tools, than the
+road-men arrived, with a full-blooded steam-roller, bent upon ploughing
+up and crushing down Apthorpe Road to a new and proper symmetry.  In
+short the thoroughfare in which Mr. Montagu Naylor lived seemed never
+to be without workmen by day, and by night watchmen to protect
+municipal property from depredation.
+
+"I'm not so sure," remarked Malcolm Sage to Thompson who had entered
+his room soon after Colonel Walton had gone to pay his call at 110,
+Downing Street, "that the menage Naylor isn't a subject for
+investigation by the Food Controller."
+
+Thompson grinned.
+
+"Eighty pounds of potatoes seems to be a generous week's supply for
+three people."
+
+"And other things to match, sir," said Thompson with another grin.
+"Haricot beans, cabbage, they're nuts on cabbage, salad and all sorts
+of things that are not rationed.  I think it must be diabetes," he
+added with another grin.
+
+"Possibly, Thompson, possibly," said Malcolm Sage; "but in the meantime
+we will assume other explanations.  Some people eat more than others.
+For instance, the German is a very big eater."
+
+"And a dirty one, too, sir," added Thompson with disgust.  "I've been
+at hotels with 'em."
+
+"Seven meals a day is one of the articles of faith of the good German,
+Thompson," continued Malcolm Sage.
+
+"And what's the result, sir?" remarked Thompson.
+
+"I suppose," remarked Sage meditatively, "it's the same as with a
+bean-fed horse.  They go out looking for trouble."
+
+"And they're going to get it," was the grim rejoinder.
+
+"Well, carry on, Thompson," said Sage by way of dismissal.  "You'll
+learn a great deal about the green-grocery trade in the process."
+
+"And waterworks--and gas and things, sir," grinned Thompson.
+
+As Thompson opened the door of Malcolm Sage's room, he stepped aside to
+allow Colonel Walton to enter, and then quietly closed the door behind
+him.
+
+"Bad time?" enquired Sage as Colonel Walton dropped into a chair and,
+taking off his cap, mopped his forehead.
+
+"On this occasion I resigned for both of us."
+
+For once in his life Malcolm Sage was surprised.  He looked
+incredulously across at his chief, who gazed back with a comical
+expression in his eyes.
+
+"I thought I was left at home for fear I might resign," said Malcolm
+Sage drily when Colonel Walton had finished telling him of the
+interview.
+
+But Colonel Walton did not look up from the end of his cigar, which he
+was examining with great intentness.
+
+"I'm not a sceptic," remarked Malcolm Sage presently, as he gazed at
+his brilliantly-polished fingernails, "but I would give a great deal
+for a dumb patriot domiciled in Apthorpe Road."
+
+"Dumb?" queried Colonel Walton.
+
+Malcolm Sage nodded without raising his eyes from his finger-nails.
+
+"I have no doubt that Apthorpe Road is exclusively patriotic; but if we
+were to ask one of its residents to lend us a front-bedroom and,
+furthermore, if we spent all our days in the bedroom at the window----"
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"There's always the domestic servant," suggested Colonel Walton.
+
+"Not much use in this case, chief," was the reply.  "It means that
+Thompson has had to turn road-mender.  Good man, Thompson," he added.
+"He'd extract facts from a futurist picture."
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+FINLAY'S S.O.S.
+
+
+I
+
+"Well, I think it's spies," announced Marjorie Rogers, as she sat
+perched on the corner of John Dene's table, swinging a pretty foot.
+
+Dorothy looked up quickly.  "But----" she began, then paused.
+
+"And it's all Mr. Llewellyn John's fault.  He ought to intern all
+aliens.  On raid-nights the Tube is simply disgusting."
+
+Dorothy smiled at the wise air of decision with which Marjorie settled
+political problems.  The strain of the past week with its hopes and
+fears was beginning to tell upon her.  There had been interminable
+interrogations by men in plain clothes, who with large hands and blunt
+pencils wrote copious notes in fat note-books.  The atmosphere with
+which they surrounded themselves was so vague, so non-committal, that
+Dorothy began to feel that she was suspected of having stolen John Dene.
+
+"Oh, mother!" she had cried on the evening of the first day of her
+ordeal at the hands of Scotland Yard, "you should see your poor,
+defenceless daughter surrounded by men who do nothing but ask questions
+and look mysterious.  They're so different from Mr. Sage," she had
+added as an afterthought.
+
+"If it isn't the spies," continued Marjorie, "then what is it?"
+
+Dorothy shook her head wearily.  She missed John Dene.  It was just
+beginning to dawn upon her how much she missed him.  The days seemed
+interminable.  There was nothing to do but answer the door to the
+repeated knocks, either of detectives or of journalists.  It was a
+relief when Marjorie ran in to pick her up for lunch--Dorothy had felt
+it only fair to discontinue the elaborate lunches that were sent in--or
+on her way home in the evening.
+
+"A man doesn't get lost like a pawn-ticket," announced Marjorie.
+
+"What do you know about pawn-tickets, Rojjie?"
+
+"Oh, I often pop things when I'm hard up," she announced nonchalantly.
+
+"You don't!" cried Dorothy incredulously.
+
+"Of course.  What should I do when I'm stoney if it wasn't for uncle."
+
+"You outrageous little creature!" cried Dorothy.  "I should like to
+shake you."
+
+"He's quite a nice youth, with black hair greased into what I think he
+would call a 'quiff.'"
+
+"What on earth are you talking about?"
+
+"Uncle, of course.  He always gives me more than anyone else," she
+announced with the air of one conscious of a triumph.
+
+"Where will you end, Rojjie?" cried Dorothy.
+
+"Suburbs probably," she replied practically.  "These old wasters take
+you out to dinner; but marry you--not much."  She shook her wise little
+head so vigorously that her bobbed hair shook like a fringe.  "I wish I
+had a John Dene," she said after a pause.
+
+"A John Dene!"
+
+"Ummm!" nodded Marjorie.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Marry him, of course."
+
+"Don't be absurd."
+
+Suddenly Marjorie slipped off the table and, going over to Dorothy,
+threw her arms round her impulsively.
+
+"I'm so sorry, Dollikins," she cried, snuggling up against her.
+
+"Sorry for what?" asked Dorothy in a weak voice.
+
+"That he got lost.  I--I _know_," she added.
+
+"Know what?" asked Dorothy, her voice still weaker.
+
+"That you're keen on him."
+
+"I'm not," Dorothy sniffed.  "I'm not, so there."  Again she sniffed,
+and Marjorie with the wisdom of her sex was silent, wondering how long
+she would be able to stand the tickling of Dorothy's tears as they
+coursed down her cheeks.
+
+At the end of a fortnight Sir Lyster Grayne decided to close John
+Dene's offices, and Dorothy returned to the Admiralty, resuming her
+former position; but, thanks to Sir Bridgman North's intervention, her
+salary remained the same as before John Dene's disappearance.
+
+All the girls were greatly interested in what they called "John Dene's
+vanishing trick."  Dorothy became weary of answering their questions
+and parrying their not ill-natured impertinences.  Sometimes she felt
+she must scream.
+
+Everybody she encountered seemed to think it necessary to refer to the
+very subject she would have wished left unmentioned.
+
+One day she had encountered Sir Bridgman North in one of the corridors.
+Recognising her, he had stopped to enquire if she were still receiving
+her full salary.  Then with a cheery "I don't want to be gingered-up
+when the good John Dene returns," he had passed on with a smile and a
+salute.
+
+At home it was the same.  A pall of depression seemed to have descended
+upon the little flat.  Mrs. West tactfully refrained from asking
+questions; but Dorothy was conscious that John Dene was never very far
+from her thoughts.
+
+Their week-end excursions had lost their savour, and they both
+recognised how much John Dene had become part of their lives.
+
+Sometimes when Dorothy was in bed, tears would refuse to be forced
+back, however hard she strove against them.  Then she would become
+angry with herself, jump out of bed, dab her eyes with a wet towel, and
+return to bed and start counting sheep, until the very thought of
+mutton seemed to drive her mad.
+
+Mr. Blair she hated the sight of, he was so obviously satisfied with
+the course of events.  Sometimes she found herself longing for the
+return of John Dene, merely that he might "ginger-up" Sir Lyster's
+private secretary.
+
+Week after week passed and no news.  The volume of questions in the
+House died down and finally disappeared altogether.  The state of
+affairs at Scotland Yard returned to the normal.  Newspapers ceased to
+refer either to John Dene, or to his disappearance, and the tide of war
+flowed on.
+
+Marshal Foch had struck his great blow, and had followed it up with
+others.  The stream of Hun invasion had been stemmed, and slowly France
+and Belgium were being cleared.
+
+Mr. Montagu Naylor's comings and goings continued to interest
+Department Z., and Apthorpe Road was still in the grip of the workman.
+
+Day by day Dorothy seemed to grow more listless.  It was the heat, she
+explained to Mrs. West, whilst Marjorie nodded her wise little head,
+but said nothing.  Whenever she saw Dorothy she always "talked John
+Dene," as she expressed it to herself.  She could see that it was a
+relief.
+
+"You see, Rojjie darling, I should always be a little afraid of him,"
+said Dorothy one day as they sat in John Dene's room.  "I suppose that
+is why I----"  She paused.
+
+Marjorie nodded understandingly, and continued to swing a dainty,
+grey-stockinged leg.
+
+"You--you see," continued Dorothy a little wistfully, "I've always had
+to do the taking care of, and he----"  Again she broke off.  Then
+suddenly jumping up she cried, "Let's go to the pictures.  Bother John
+Dene!" and Marjorie smiled a little smile that was really her own.
+
+Finally there came the time when for a fortnight Dorothy would have no
+one to say to her either "come" or "go," and she and Mrs. West went to
+Bournemouth, Dorothy inwardly dreading two weeks with nothing to do.
+
+
+II
+
+Whilst the John Dene sensation was slowly fading from the public mind,
+Malcolm Sage was continuing with unabated energy the task he had set
+himself.  He was aware that Finlay was being watched even more closely
+than John Dene had been watched, and Sage realised that it was, in all
+probability, impossible for him to communicate with headquarters.
+
+By an ingenious device, however, Finlay had at length succeeded in
+establishing contact with Department Z.  It had been reported to Sage
+that on two occasions Finlay had been seen to leave behind him at
+restaurants a silver-mounted ebony walking stick.  He had, however,
+always returned for it a few minutes later, as if having discovered his
+loss.
+
+Learning that the stick was of an ordinary stock pattern, Malcolm Sage
+gave instructions for one exactly like it to be purchased.  An
+endeavour was then to be made to effect an exchange with that carried
+by Finlay.  It was not until a week later that this was effected, and
+the stick handed to Thompson.
+
+A careful examination disclosed nothing.  The silver nob and ferrule
+were removed; but without bringing to light anything in the nature of a
+communication.
+
+"It's a wash-out, sir," said Thompson, as he entered Malcolm Sage's
+room, the stick in one hand and the knob and ferrule in the other.
+
+Sage glanced up from his desk.  Holding out his hand he took the stick
+and proceeded to examine it with elaborate care.  The wood at the top,
+just beneath the knob, had been hollowed out.  Sage glanced up at
+Thompson interrogatingly.
+
+"Nothing in it, sir," he said, interpreting the question.
+
+"There will be when you next make the exchange," was the dry retort
+and, with a motion of dismissal, Malcolm Sage returned to the papers
+before him.
+
+"What's the matter, Tommy?" enquired Gladys Norman a few minutes later,
+as she came across Thompson gazing at the hollowed-out end of a stick,
+and murmuring to himself with suppressed passion.
+
+"I'm the biggest fool in London," said Thompson without looking up.
+
+"Only just discovered it?" she asked casually.  "Poor old Tommikins,"
+she added, prepared to dodge at the least sign of an offensive movement
+on the part of her colleague; but Thompson was too engrossed in
+introspective analysis to be conscious of what was taking place about
+him.
+
+"We're on the eve of developments," said Malcolm Sage one afternoon
+some weeks later, as Colonel Walton entered his room, closing the door
+behind him.
+
+"Anything new?" he enquired, dropping into a chair beside Sage's table.
+
+"I'm afraid there's going to be trouble."
+
+"Not resigning?" there was a twinkle in Colonel Walton's eye.  In their
+infinite variety the resignations of Malcolm Sage would have filled a
+Blue Book.
+
+"I don't like the look of things," continued Sage, pulling steadily at
+his pipe and ignoring the remark.  "Naylor's playing his own game, I'm
+sure and," he added, looking up suddenly, "it's an ugly game."
+
+"Bluff, that accusing Finlay of acting on his own about John Dene."
+
+Malcolm Sage nodded his head slowly several times.  For some minutes he
+continued to smoke with a mechanical precision that with him always
+betokened anxiety.
+
+"It's the dug-out business, I don't like," he said at length.
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.  "You think?" he queried.
+
+Sage nodded, his face was unusually grave.
+
+During the previous week it had been discovered that Mr. Naylor was
+having constructed in his back-garden a dug-out, to which to retire in
+case of air-raids, and he was himself assisting with the work of
+excavation.
+
+Finlay had confirmed Malcolm Sage's suggestion that Naylor was
+suspicious.  There had been a quarrel between the two, which had taken
+place through intermediaries.  Naylor had accused Finlay of being
+responsible for the disappearance of John Dene.  Finlay had responded
+by a like accusation, and the threat of serious consequences to Naylor
+when the facts were known in a certain quarter.
+
+"We've got to speed up."  Malcolm Sage addressed the remark apparently
+to the thumbnail of his left hand.
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.
+
+"I don't like that dug-out business at all," continued Sage.  "The
+changing of the site too," he added.
+
+"Had they got far with the first one?" enquired Colonel Walton
+
+"About five feet down; but they haven't filled it in yet."
+
+Colonel Walton looked up quickly.  His face was grave.
+
+"Naylor says they must get the dug-out finished first in case of a
+raid.  He can fill in the old hole at any time."
+
+"A dug-out after nearly four years of raids?"
+
+"Exactly," said Sage, "that and the unfilled hole and Naylor's own
+activities----"  He broke off significantly.
+
+"About the reward?  It would be awkward if----  Come in."
+
+Colonel Walton broke off at the sound of a knock at the door.
+
+Thompson entered with an ebony walking stick in one hand, a silver knob
+and a small piece of paper in the other.  He held out the paper to
+Malcolm Sage, who, with a motion of his head, indicated Colonel Walton.
+He was very punctilious in such matters.  Colonel Walton took the slip
+of paper and read aloud.
+
+
+"Arrest me late to-night and have me taken to Tower.  Slip the dogs
+to-morrow certain, delay dangerous.
+
+J. F."
+
+
+For fully a minute the three men were silent.  Colonel Walton began to
+draw diagrams upon his blotting pad Malcolm Sage gazed at his
+finger-nails, whilst Thompson stood stiffly erect, his face pale and
+his mouth rigid.  Presently Sage looked up.
+
+"I'm afraid there'll be no spring-mattress for you to-night, Thompson,"
+he said.  "I'll ring in a few minutes," and Thompson drew a sigh of
+relief as he turned towards the door, which a moment afterwards closed
+behind him.
+
+"We can't do it to-night," announced Sage with decision.
+
+Colonel Walton shook his head.
+
+"He must take the risk until the morning," continued Sage.  "You'll be
+here until it's all through?" he interrogated.
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.  When thoughtful he was more than usually
+sparing of words.
+
+"About the reward?" he interrogated, as Sage rose and moved towards the
+door.
+
+"We'll withdraw it in to-morrow evening's papers," was the response,
+"if you agree."
+
+Again Colonel Walton nodded, and Malcolm Sage went out, bent on
+reminding Scotland Yard of his existence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+MALCOLM SAGE CASTS HIS NET
+
+
+I
+
+"I'm afraid there'll be trouble with the people at the Tower," remarked
+Malcolm Sage, who, with the aid of his briar pipe, was doing his best
+to reduce the visibility.
+
+"Zero is noon," mused Colonel Walton.
+
+Sage nodded.
+
+"They'll begin to drift in about twelve-thirty," he continued, puffing
+placidly at his cigar.
+
+"Well, it's been interesting, and it'll give the Skipper a sort of joy
+day with the War Cabinet," said Sage quietly.  "To-morrow ought to be
+rather a large breakfast-party," he added drily.
+
+"He had the wind up rather badly at one time."
+
+"Celt," was Sage's comment.
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.
+
+For some minutes the two smoked in silence.
+
+"I hope they won't start any of that O.B.E. business," said Sage at
+length.
+
+"Sure to.  It will be a triumph for the Skipper," continued Colonel
+Walton.
+
+"He deserves it," said Sage ungrudgingly.  "He's always believed in us.
+By the way, I told Hoyle to bring Finlay here after they had got
+Naylor."
+
+Colonel Walton continued to puff contentedly at his cigar.
+
+Early that morning Malcolm Sage had given final instructions to the
+various members of his staff.  He and Colonel Walton had been working
+all through the night in perfecting their plans.  The demands made upon
+Scotland Yard for men had at first evoked surprise, which later
+developed into _sotto voce_ ridicule.
+
+"What the devil's up with old Sage and Onions?" Inspector Crabbett had
+muttered, as he cast his eyes down the list of plain-clothes and
+uniformed officers required.  "Who the devil's going to issue all these
+warrants?"
+
+Department Z., however, had its own means of obtaining such warrants as
+were required without questions being asked.
+
+Early that morning Malcolm Sage had got through to Inspector Crabbett.
+
+"That you, Inspector?" he enquired.
+
+"What's left of me," was the surly retort.
+
+"Got that little list of mine?" enquired Sage.
+
+"We're engaging new men as fast as we can so as to have enough," was
+the grumbling reply.  "I've asked the W.O. to demobilise a few
+divisions to help us," he added with ponderous sarcasm.
+
+"Thank you," said Sage imperturbably, as he replaced the receiver.
+
+Mr. Montagu Naylor had been reserved for Department Z.  Sage was
+determined to get him alive; but his knowledge of the man was
+sufficient to tell him that Mr. Naylor was equally determined never to
+be taken alive.  He had seen that little corrugated-iron covered
+building at the Tower that had once been a miniature rifle-range and,
+involuntarily, he had shuddered.
+
+
+II
+
+"Was that the telephone?"
+
+Mr. Naylor barked the question down from the first-floor.  There was a
+pad-pad of feet, and Mrs. Naylor appeared from the basement.
+
+"Yes," she replied timidly.  "Shall I go?"
+
+"No, I'll go myself;" and Mr. Naylor descended the stairs heavily.
+Passing into his study, he closed the door behind him and seated
+himself at the table.
+
+"Hullo!" he called into the mouthpiece, lifting off the receiver.
+
+"Is that twelve Haymarket?" came the reply.
+
+"No," was the suave response.  "This is Mr. Montagu Naylor of Apthorpe
+Road, Streatham.  You're on to the wrong number;" and with that he
+replaced his receiver, pulled out his watch and scowled at the dial.
+The hands pointed to half-past eleven.
+
+With a muttered exclamation and a murmur about a taxi, Mr. Naylor
+stamped out of the room, just as Mrs. Naylor was leaving the
+dining-room.  She shrank back as if expecting to be struck.
+
+"Back about two," he grunted.  "Keep that damned dog tied up."
+
+"I'll see to it," said Mrs. Naylor in a voice that seemed to come
+through cotton-wool.
+
+Since post time that morning Mr. Naylor's temper had been bad, even for
+him.  An intimation had come from the local police-station to the
+effect that several complaints had been made of the savage nature and
+aggressive disposition of a dog he was alleged to keep on his premises.
+The officer who had been sent round to call attention to this fact on
+the previous day, had been prevented from entering the garden by the
+valiant defence put up by James himself.  Mr. Naylor had been out at
+the time of the call, and Mrs. Naylor had not dared to tell him of the
+constable's visit and discomfiture.  Department Z. was taking no risks
+where James was concerned.
+
+During the whole of breakfast strange sounds had rumbled in Mr.
+Naylor's throat, whilst on one occasion, when he happened to catch Mrs.
+Naylor's eye, he glared so ferociously at her that she let the lid of
+the teapot fall with a crash into a fast-filling cup.  With this the
+volcano had burst, and the grumbles in Mr. Naylor's larynx matured into
+deep-throated oaths and execrations.
+
+Three times he had descended to the basement, from whence his voice
+could be heard in passionate protest against any and every thing he
+encountered.  Mrs. Naylor had gone about the house with the air of one
+convinced of disaster.  Susan, as usual, succeeded in shuffling out of
+the way just as Mr. Naylor appeared.
+
+As the front door banged behind him, Mr. Naylor's scowl lifted as by
+magic, giving place to an expression of benignant geniality befitting a
+prominent and respected citizen.
+
+Mr. Naylor managed the distance to the Haymarket in the time without
+involving a taxi, thus greatly improving his temper.  He was a man who
+grudged unnecessary expense, and all expense, not directly connected
+with the delights of the table, was to his way of thinking unnecessary.
+
+That morning, just as Big Ben was booming out the tenth stroke of noon,
+a commotion was observed to take place outside the Pall Mall
+Restaurant.  Suddenly four men precipitated themselves upon a fifth,
+who was walking calmly and peaceably towards Coventry Street.  In a
+flash he was handcuffed and thrown, somebody called out "Police"; but
+before anyone had properly realised what was happening, a motor-car had
+drawn up and the handcuffed man was bundled into it, struggling vainly
+against the rope with which his legs had been quickly bound.  When a
+policeman arrived, it was to be told by an excited group of spectators
+that a man had been assaulted and kidnapped in broad daylight.
+
+Thus was Mr. Montagu Naylor of Streatham secured and conducted to the
+Tower, there eventually to make acquaintance with the miniature
+rifle-range.
+
+Whilst Mr. Naylor was rapidly nearing the place of the most remarkable
+appointment he had ever kept, James was reduced to a state of frenzy by
+several strange men in the adjoining back-gardens.  They were,
+according to their own account, given to the residents whose houses
+flanked that of Mr. Naylor, engaged upon survey work.  The instruments
+they had with them seemed to give colour to their words.  The apathy of
+the workmen who for the last few days had surrendered Apthorpe Road to
+others, different from themselves only in that they belonged to another
+union and brought with them a steam-roller instead of picks and
+shovels, seemed suddenly to develop into an unusual activity.
+Immediately after the departure of Mr. Naylor, the asphalt of the
+footpath just in front of his gate was picked up with an energy that
+merited rebuke from any self-respecting father of the chapel.  A few
+minutes later a man knocked at Mr. Naylor's door, and stated that it
+would be necessary to dig up the path leading to the front door.
+
+At this information a look of fear sprang into Mrs. Naylor's eyes.  She
+was terrified of deciding anything in Mr. Naylor's absence.  When the
+men announced that it would be necessary to descend to the basement,
+she shook her head violently.
+
+"No, no!" she cried.  "Mr. Naylor is away.  Come again this afternoon."
+
+It was pointed out to her that the afternoon might be too late,
+something had gone wrong with the gas, and if they waited until the
+afternoon anything might happen.
+
+The man was respectful, but insistent.  He so played upon Mrs. Naylor's
+fears by hinting darkly at the possibility of there being nothing for
+Mr. Naylor to return to by the afternoon, unless the gas meter were
+immediately seen to, that she consented to allow a man to descend to
+the basement after being told that it would not be necessary for him to
+go into any of the rooms.
+
+First, however, she insisted that she must go down and see that
+everything was tidy.  After a lapse of five minutes she returned; but
+when four men presented themselves prepared to descend the stairs, she
+resolutely refused.
+
+"Very well, mum," said the foreman, "we'll see what the police can do.
+Just pop round to the police-station, Bill, and bring a copper," he
+said to a mate.  "Sooner 'ave the 'ole bloomin' street blown up than
+let us go down and dirty your stairs."  There was in his voice all the
+indignation of the outraged British workman.
+
+Mrs. Naylor wavered.  The word "police" had for her a peculiar and
+terrifying significance.
+
+"You--you only want to go in the passage," she said.
+
+"That'll do us, mum," said the foreman.  "You stay up 'ere, Bill," he
+added, turning to the man he had instructed to go for the police.
+
+Mrs. Naylor led the way to the lower regions, unconscious that not
+three but seven men were following her, the last four with rubber-soled
+boots.
+
+She had scarcely taken a step along the passage at the foot of the
+basement stairs, when her arms were gripped from behind and a pad held
+over her mouth.  She struggled against the sweet-smelling sickly fumes;
+then the relaxing of her limbs told that she had temporarily left for
+realms where Mr. Naylor was not.
+
+The basement was composed of a kitchen, immediately on the right of the
+stairs, and a breakfast-room, the entrance to which lay a few paces
+along the passage.  At the end of the passage was a door leading into
+the area.
+
+Without a sound the men divided themselves, one went to the area door,
+two remained by the kitchen door, where Susan could be heard clattering
+crockery, whilst the other four stood outside the door leading to the
+breakfast-room.  One of them gently turned the handle; it was locked.
+He made a signal to the two men at the kitchen door.  One quietly
+entered.
+
+A moment later Susan looked up with a start to find herself gazing down
+the barrel of an automatic pistol, whilst before her eyes was presented
+a card on which was printed, "Come and make the signal to get the door
+of the breakfast-room open, otherwise you will be shot."
+
+For a fraction of a second she hesitated, then a strange light flashed
+into her eyes, suggestive half of cunning, half of relief, and with an
+understanding nod she walked to the breakfast-room door.  One of the
+men placed her in such a position that she would not be in the way of
+the entrance of the others when the door was opened.
+
+Very deliberately she knocked and paused--knock--knock--knock, pause,
+knock--knock.
+
+They waited breathlessly.  The sound of a key being cautiously turned
+was presently heard.  A moment after a line of white appeared beside
+the green paint of the door, as it was slowly and cautiously opened.
+
+Then a score of things seemed to happen at once.  The waiting men threw
+themselves into the room, the man at the end of the passage dashed out
+into the area, he who had been left at the kitchen-door rushed into the
+back-yard and whistled.
+
+The breakfast-room was in total darkness; but for the brilliant
+electric torches carried by the assailants.  For a moment there was
+wild confusion, a shot was fired and then all was quiet.
+
+"Got him, Thompson?"  It was Malcolm Sage who spoke; but from a
+physical substance that was not Malcolm Sage.
+
+"Got them and it, sir," was the response.
+
+"Are you hit?"
+
+"Only in the arm, sir.  Nothing to write home about," was the cheery
+response.
+
+"Here, switch on the light someone," said Malcolm Sage, and a moment
+after there was a click and a three-lamp electrolier burst into light.
+
+"Get a window open, Thompson; thrust all that greenery stuff out,"
+cried Malcolm Sage.
+
+"Right, sir."
+
+With the aid of the fire-irons, Mr. Montagu Naylor's little greenhouse
+was soon demobilised and lay a heap of ruins in the area.
+
+"That's better," murmured Malcolm Sage.  "What a stink!"
+
+He then turned to an examination of the room.  The window had been
+blocked up with a sort of glass case, on which shelves had been built
+and flower-pots placed.  This had the effect not only of cutting off
+all communications from outside except from the door; but of preventing
+anyone from seeing into the room.  The atmosphere of the place was
+heavy and foetid, as the only means of ventilation was the door.  There
+were three pallet-beds, a table and several chairs.
+
+Malcolm Sage shuddered at the thought of living week after week under
+such conditions.  He turned to his prisoners.
+
+On the floor lay two men, handcuffed, each with a member of the staff
+of Department Z. sitting contentedly on his chest.  One was foaming at
+the mouth with suppressed fury, the other, a heavily-built fellow, lay
+apathetic.  In a corner upon one of the pallet-beds sat a man looking
+about him in a dazed fashion.
+
+"It's all right, Mr. Dene," said Malcolm Sage.  "We'll attend to you in
+a minute."  Then turning to Thompson he said, "Get these fellows up
+into the car.  Keep the two women here under guard.  Then we'll see to
+your arm."
+
+"Right, sir," said Thompson.
+
+The arrival of three closed motor-cars outside "The Cedars" had aroused
+some interest among the residents of Apthorpe Road.  The absence of
+flowers from the lamps and the buttonholes of the chauffeurs negatived
+the idea of a wedding, and three cars were scarcely necessary to take
+Mr. Naylor's small household for a holiday.
+
+A group of neighbours and errand boys gathered outside Mr. Naylor's
+gate.  The windows opposite and on each side were manned in force.
+Presently the onlookers were astonished to see two handcuffed men half
+carried, half dragged out of the house and hurried into the first car.
+They were followed by two more of the men who, a few minutes before,
+had been engaged in picking up Mr. Naylor's path.  As soon as they were
+in the car, these men proceeded to fetter their two prisoners.
+
+Apthorpe Road gasped its astonishment.
+
+In the breakfast-room Malcolm Sage drew a chair up to the man seated on
+the bed, seemingly quite unconscious of what was happening.  Leaning
+forward he lifted one of his eyelids, then turned to the others who
+stood round.
+
+"Dope," was all he said.
+
+There was an angry murmur from the others.  For a moment Malcolm Sage
+sat looking at the wasted form of what once might have been John Dene
+of Toronto.  Then he turned to Thompson, quite unrecognisable as the
+foreman gas-mechanic, whose arm was being bandaged with a
+field-dressing.
+
+"Take him in one of the cars to Sir Bryllith Riley, and explain.  He's
+expecting you.  Do exactly as he orders.  Take Rogers with you, and
+then get your wound seen to."
+
+Sir Bryllith Riley was the great specialist in nervous disorders, who
+had made a special study of the drug habit.  Without a word Thompson
+left the room, followed two of the "workmen," who had raised the
+patient to his feet.  Then half leading, half carrying they took him
+from the room.
+
+The crowd of spectators, which had been considerably reinforced,
+received its second thrill that morning at the sight of a short
+sturdily built man, apparently drunk, being helped into the second car.
+They noticed that he blinked violently in the sunlight, and those who
+were near enough saw that his eyes were watering profusely.  One or two
+of the more observant observed that he stumbled as he entered the taxi,
+and would have fallen but for those supporting him.  The second car
+immediately drove off.
+
+A few minutes later two more men left "The Cedars" and entered the
+third car, which with the first then drove off, leaving Mr. Naylor's
+residence in the charge of the "survey" men and two of the "workmen."
+
+In the back-garden James was having a meal--it was to be his last.
+
+"I should like a smoke, chief.  I left my pipe behind," said one of the
+men in the third car, as he took from his pocket a pair of gold-rimmed
+spectacles and proceeded to put them on.
+
+"Here, try one of these," and a gold-mounted cigar case was passed
+towards him, a case that seemed strangely out of keeping with the
+corduroys of the owner.
+
+"Well, it's been a happy day," said Malcolm Sage, as he proceeded to
+light the cigar Colonel Walton had given him.
+
+"I hope the other fellows have got their lot," said the Chief of
+Department Z., as the car ran into the High Road.
+
+"Trust them," was the answer.  "Finlay wouldn't let Naylor escape him.
+I should like to know what they're saying at the Tower," he added a
+moment later.
+
+From half-past twelve until nearly two that day, the officials at the
+Tower were kept busily occupied in receiving guests.  The appetite for
+lunch of the officer of the guard was entirely spoiled.
+
+"Where the deuce are we going to put them all," he asked of one of his
+N.C.O.'s.
+
+The man shook his head helplessly.
+
+"It might be a Rowton's lodging-house," grumbled the officer, as he
+made the twenty-third entry in what he facetiously called the "Goods
+Received Book."  "Damn the war!"
+
+
+III
+
+"Well, Thompson," remarked Colonel Walton with a smile, "you have
+earned----"
+
+"A wound stripe," interrupted Sage.
+
+Thompson grinned, as he looked down at his right arm resting in a sling.
+
+"It was meant for Mr. Dene, sir," he said.  "I just got there in time.
+It was that ferret-eyed little blighter," he added without the
+slightest suggestion of animosity.  Thompson was a sportsman, taking
+and giving hard knocks with philosophic good-humour.
+
+"Plucky little devil," murmured Malcolm Sage.  "He bit and scratched
+with the utmost impartiality."
+
+Malcolm Sage and Thompson were seated in Colonel Walton's room
+discussing the events of the morning.
+
+"We were only just in time," said Sage.  "Finlay was right."
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.
+
+"It was dope, sir."  Thompson looked from Colonel Walton to Malcolm
+Sage.  "Sir Bryllith said he'll be months in a home."
+
+"Yes," said Sage.  "He won't be fit to answer questions for a long
+time.  Been doped all the time, nearly three months."
+
+"If there's nothing more----" began Thompson.
+
+"No, Thompson, go and get a sleep," said Colonel Walton.  "Look after
+that arm, and take things easy for a few days."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Thompson; "but I'm afraid I've forgotten the
+way," and with a grin he went out.
+
+"You've wirelessed?" asked Colonel Walton.
+
+"The whole story.  They're bound to pick it up at Auchinlech."
+
+"And the Skipper?"
+
+"Oh! just what we actually know, I should say," responded Sage, and
+Colonel Walton nodded his agreement.
+
+"They're puzzled over those announcements withdrawing the reward," said
+Sage a few minutes later.  "We ought to be hearing from the Skipper
+soon."
+
+"He's already been through while you were changing.  I'm going round at
+five.  You're coming too," added Colonel Walton, as he lighted a fresh
+cigar.  "What about Finlay?"
+
+"Gone home to see his wife," said Sage.  "He's as domesticated as a
+Persian kitten," he added with all the superiority of a confirmed
+bachelor.
+
+In another room Gladys Norman was fussing over a wounded hero.
+
+"Poor 'ickle Tommikins."  she crooned, as she sat on the arm of his
+chair and rumpled the hair of Special Service Officer Thompson.  "Did
+'ums hurt 'ums poor 'ickle arm.  Brave boy!" and then she bent down and
+kissed him lightly on the cheek, whereat Thompson blushed crimson.
+
+"Department Z. makes its traditions as it goes along," Malcolm Sage had
+once said.  "It's more natural."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE RETURN OF JOHN DENE
+
+"It's very strange," murmured Sir Lyster Grayne, as he raised his eyes
+from an official-looking document.  "What are the official figures for
+the last six weeks, Heyworth?" he enquired.
+
+"Seven certainties and two doubtful," was the reply.
+
+"About normal, then?"
+
+Admiral Heyworth nodded.
+
+"Then why the devil should the Hun get the wind up?" demanded Sir
+Bridgman, a look of puzzlement taking the place of the usual smile in
+his eyes.  "What does the I.D. say?"
+
+"That during the last four weeks thirty-seven U-boats have failed to
+return to their bases as they should have done," replied Admiral
+Heyworth, referring to a buff-coloured paper before him.
+
+"That leaves twenty-eight in the air," said Sir Bridgman, more to
+himself than to the others.
+
+Sir Lyster nodded thoughtfully.
+
+"No wonder they're getting the wind up," mused Sir Bridgman.
+
+"The I.D. says that Kiel and Wilhelmshaven are in a state of panic,"
+said Admiral Heyworth.
+
+"It's damned funny," remarked Sir Bridgman thoughtfully.  "Structural
+defects won't explain it?"  He looked interrogatingly across at Admiral
+Heyworth, who shook his head in negation.
+
+"It might of course be wangle," murmured Sir Bridgman.
+
+Sir Lyster shook his head decidedly.
+
+"The I.D. says no," he remarked.  "They're doing everything they can to
+keep it dark."
+
+"Well, it's damned funny," repeated Sir Bridgman.  "What does L. J.
+say?"
+
+"He's as puzzled as the rest of us," said Sir Lyster in response.
+"He's making enquiries through Department Z."  There was the merest
+suggestion of patronage in Sir Lyster's voice at the mention of
+Department Z.
+
+Sir Bridgman lit a cigarette, then after a short silence Sir Lyster
+said tentatively:
+
+"I suppose it isn't the Americans?"
+
+"Impossible," said Sir Bridgman.  "You can't base ships on ether, and
+we were bound to know, besides frankness is their strong point.  They
+are almost aggressively open," he added.
+
+"I----" began Sir Lyster, then paused.
+
+"It's damned funny," murmured Sir Bridgman for the third time.  "Well,
+I must buzz off," he added, rising.  "I shall see you at L.J.'s this
+afternoon."
+
+"It's a conference, I think," said Sir Lyster.  "Walton is to tell us
+what has been discovered."  Again there was the note of patronage in
+his voice.
+
+"Well," said Sir Bridgman, "I'll try and prevent it spoiling my lunch,"
+and he stretched his big frame lazily.  "By the way," he remarked,
+turning to Sir Lyster, "did you see about that convoy a hundred miles
+off its course, bleating like a lost goat to know where it was?"
+
+"It might have been very serious," said Sir Lyster gravely.
+
+"Oh! the luck of the navy," laughed Sir Bridgman.  "We have to do it
+all, even teach the other fellows their job.  Mark it, Grayne, we shall
+take over the whole blessed country before we've finished, then perhaps
+they'll raise our screws," and with that he left the room.
+
+Two minutes later his cheery laugh was heard outside again as he
+enquired of Mr. Blair if it were true that he was going to double the
+reward for the discovery of John Dene.  A moment later he rejoined Sir
+Lyster and Admiral Heyworth.
+
+"I forgot about that flying-boat business," he said, and soon the three
+were engaged in a technical discussion.
+
+
+For more than three months Mr. Blair had known peace.  He had been able
+to walk leisurely across St. James's Park from his chambers in St.
+Mary's Mansions, pause for a moment to look at the pelicans, dwell upon
+the memory of past social engagements and anticipate those to come,
+receive the salute of the policeman at the door of the Admiralty and
+the respectful bows of the attendants within and walk up the stairs and
+along the corridors to his room, conscious that in his heart was an
+abiding peace.
+
+It was true that a war raged in various parts of the world, and that
+Mr. Blair's work brought him constantly into close touch with the
+horrors of that war; but it was all so far away, and his was a nature
+that permitted the contemplation of such matters with philosophical
+detachment.  A scorched shirt-front, an ill-ironed collar, or an
+omelette that was not all an omelette should be, bulked vastly more in
+Mr. Blair's imagination than the fall of Kut, the over-running of
+Roumania, or the tragedy of Caporetto.  National disaster he could bear
+with a stoical calm befitting in a man of long ancestry; but personal
+discomfort reduced him to a state of acute nervousness.
+
+The Hun ravaged Belgium, invaded Russia, over-ran Lombardy; Mr. Blair
+was appropriately shocked and, on occasion, expressed his indignation
+in a restrained and well-bred manner; but John Dene crashing in upon
+the atmosphere of intellectual quiet and material content with which
+Mr. Blair was surrounded, ravaged his nerves and produced in him
+something of a mental palpitation.  Therefore of the two events the
+irruptions of John Dene were infinitely more disturbing to Mr. Blair
+than those of the hordes of the modern Attila.
+
+Mr. Blair sat at his table, pen in hand, before him a pad of virgin
+blotting paper.  His thoughts had wandered back to a dinner-party at
+which he had been present the previous night.  His eyes were fixed upon
+an antique family ring he wore upon the fourth finger of his left-hand.
+The dinner had been a success, a conspicuous success.  He was conscious
+of having shone by virtue of the tactful way in which he had parried
+certain direct and rather impertinent questions of a professional
+nature addressed to him by one of the guests.  They related to the
+disappearance of John Dene.  Mr. Blair had experienced an additional
+gratification from the discovery that he had been able to hear
+mentioned the name of John Dene without experiencing an inward thrill
+of misgiving.
+
+As he sat this morning, pen in hand, he pondered over the subject of
+John Dene in relation to himself, Reginald Blair.  Possibly he had been
+a little weak in not standing more upon his dignity with this rough and
+uncouth colonial.  In such cases a bold and determined front was all
+that was necessary.  Of course there would have been one great contest,
+and Mr. Blair detested such things; but--yes, he had been weak.  In
+future he----
+
+"Here, who the hell's shut my offices, and where's Miss West?"
+
+The pen slipped from Mr. Blair's limp hand, and his jaw dropped as he
+found himself gazing up into the angry eyes of John Dene, who had
+entered the room like a tornado.
+
+"This ain't a seal tank and it's not feeding time," cried John Dene
+angrily.  "Who's shut my offices?"  Then with a sudden look in the
+direction of the door he called out, "Here, come in, Jasp."
+
+Mr. Blair looked more than ever like a seal as he gazed stupidly at
+John Dene.  His eyes widened at the uncouth appearance of "Spotty"
+Quinton.  Mr. Blair started violently as Spotty, seeing the fireplace,
+expectorated towards it with astonishing accuracy.  Spotty could always
+be depended upon to observe the rules of good breeding in such matters.
+When a room possessed a fireplace, the ornaments and carpet were always
+safe as far as he was concerned.
+
+Mr. Blair gazed stupidly at his visitors.
+
+"I--I----" he stammered.
+
+Without a word John Dene turned, strode across the room and, opening
+Sir Lyster's door, disappeared, closing the door behind him with a
+bang.  Sir Lyster was in the act of reaching across the table for a
+letter that Sir Bridgman was handing him.  Both men turned to see the
+cause of the interruption.  Sir Bridgman dropped the letter, and Sir
+Lyster slowly withdrew his arm as he gazed in a dazed manner at John
+Dene.
+
+Sir Bridgman was the first to recover from his surprise.
+
+"Why, it's John Dene!" he cried heartily, as he rose and grasped the
+interrupter's hand.  "Where the deuce have you been hiding all this
+time?"
+
+"What the hell have you done with that girl, and who's closed my
+offices?" demanded John Dene, looking from Sir Bridgman to the First
+Lord.
+
+"Girl! what girl?" enquired Sir Lyster.
+
+"Miss West," snapped John Dene.
+
+"Miss West!" repeated Sir Lyster vaguely, then memory suddenly coming
+to his aid he added weakly, "Yes, I remember.  She became your
+secretary."
+
+John Dene regarded him steadily.  Sir Bridgman hid a smile, he always
+enjoyed a situation that brought Sir Lyster into antagonism with John
+Dene.
+
+"Yes; but that don't help any," cried John Dene irascibly.  "Where is
+she now?"
+
+"Really, Mr. Dene," began Sir Lyster stiffly, when his gaze suddenly
+became fixed on the door, which had opened slowly, whilst round the
+corner appeared the unprepossessing features of Spotty Quinton.
+
+Following the direction of Sir Lyster's eyes, John Dene saw his
+henchman.
+
+"Come right in, Jasp," he cried, and Spotty sidled round the door cap
+in hand.  Catching sight of the fireplace, he expectorated neatly into
+it.  Sir Lyster stared at him as if he had suddenly appeared from
+another planet.
+
+"This is Jasp. Quinton, one of my boys," announced John Dene, looking
+from Sir Lyster to Sir Bridgman with a "take it or leave it" air.
+
+Sir Bridgman advanced a step and held out his hand, which Spotty
+clasped warmly, first however, wiping his hand on the leg of his
+trousers with the air of a man unaccustomed to his hands being in a fit
+condition for the purpose of greeting.
+
+"Pleased to meet you," said Spotty briefly.
+
+"How's the _Destroyer_?" asked Sir Bridgman with some eagerness.
+
+"Ruddy miracle," said Spotty, as he once more got the fireplace dead in
+the centre.
+
+Sir Lyster seemed temporarily to have lost the power of speech.  He
+gazed at Quinton as if hypnotised by the inequality of his complexion.
+When he expectorated Sir Lyster's eyes wandered from Spotty to the
+fireplace, as if to assure himself that a bull had really been
+registered.
+
+At last by an obvious effort he turned to John Dene.
+
+"I congratulate you upon your escape," he said, "but I thought you were
+too ill to----"
+
+"My escape!" replied John Dene.
+
+"Yes, from that place--where was it, North?" He turned to Sir Bridgman.
+
+"Streatham."
+
+"Ah! yes, Streatham."
+
+"I've been up north sending Huns to merry hell, where I'd like to send
+the whole Admiralty outfit," was the uncompromising retort.  "I've come
+into contact with some fools----"  John Dene broke off.
+
+"Shutting up my offices," he muttered.
+
+"But----" began Sir Lyster, then paused.
+
+"I've been over to Chiswick and she's not there; flat's shut,"
+continued John Dene.
+
+"Chiswick!" repeated Sir Lyster.  "Whose flat?"
+
+"Mrs. West's, and you've shut my offices," he added, with the air of
+one unwilling to relinquish an obvious grievance.
+
+"But I understood that you had just been released from a house in
+Streatham," persisted Sir Lyster.
+
+"Well, there's a good many mutts in this place who've been released too
+soon.  You're talking about Jim."
+
+"Jim!" repeated Sir Lyster, "Jim who?"
+
+"My brother.  They were all after me good and hard, so Jim came along,
+and I just slipped up north with your man."
+
+"Then you were the fellow with red hair all over him," laughed Sir
+Bridgman.
+
+"Sure," was the laconic reply.  "They were out for me," he continued a
+moment later, "and I'd never have got away.  Jim didn't mind."
+
+"But where is he now?" asked Sir Lyster.
+
+"He's probably the John Dene that they think was released from that
+place in Streatham," suggested Sir Bridgman.
+
+"Jim's all right," said John Dene, "but where's Miss West and my keys?"
+
+At that moment the telephone bell rang.  Sir Lyster lifted the receiver
+from the rest and listened.
+
+"Yes, that's all right, thank you, Blair," he said; then turning to
+John Dene he added, "Mr. Blair has your keys and he also has Miss
+West's address at Bournemouth."
+
+"Here, come on, Jasp.," cried John Dene, just as Spotty was in the act
+of letting fly at the fireplace for the sixth time.  He turned a
+reproachful gaze upon his chief.
+
+"But the _Destroyer_?" broke in Admiral Bridgman.
+
+"She has been doing her bit," said John Dene grimly.  "She's refitting
+now.  I'm off to Bournemouth, and Spotty's going north to-night with
+some indents."
+
+"Mr. Dene," began Sir Lyster in his most impressive manner, "your
+patriotism has----
+
+"Here, forget it," and with that John Dene was gone, followed by his
+lieutenant, leaving Sir Lyster, Sir Bridgman and Admiral Heyworth
+gazing at the door that closed behind him.
+
+As Spotty passed Mr. Blair he turned and, thrusting his face forward,
+growled, "Ruddy tyke."  It was his way of indicating loyalty to his
+chief; but it spoiled Mr. Blair's lunch.
+
+For some moments after John Dene had gone, Sir Lyster and Sir Bridgman
+and Admiral Heyworth gazed at each other without speaking.
+
+"Do you think it's drink, Grayne, or only the heat?" Sir Bridgman
+laughed.
+
+Sir Lyster winced and looked across at him as a man might at a boy who
+has just blown a trumpet in his ear.  Without replying he lifted the
+telephone receiver from its rest.
+
+"Get me through to the Prime Minister.  What's that?  Yes, Sir
+Bridgman's here.  Very well, we'll come round at once."
+
+As he replaced the receiver he rose.
+
+"The Prime Minister would like us to step round," he said.  "Walton and
+Sage are there.  It's about John Dene."
+
+"Seen John Dene?" asked Sir Bridgman of Mr. Blair, as they passed
+through the room.  "You'd better apply for that twenty thousand pounds,
+Blair."
+
+Sir Lyster wondered why Sir Bridgman persisted in his jokes, however
+much they might have become frayed at the edges.
+
+When they entered Mr. Llewellyn John's room it was to find him a
+veritable aurora borealis of smiles.  He was obviously in the best of
+spirits.
+
+"John Dene has been found," he cried before his callers had taken the
+chairs to which he waved them.
+
+"We left poor Blair with the same conviction," laughed Sir Bridgman.
+
+"Then you know?"
+
+"I telephoned Sir Lyster," said Colonel Walton.
+
+"Mr. Dene has only just left us," explained Sir Lyster.  "He was
+extremely annoyed at the closing of his office and the disappearance of
+his secretary."
+
+"But----"  Mr. Llewellyn John looked from Colonel Walton to Malcolm
+Sage, and then on to Sir Lyster in bewilderment.
+
+"Perhaps, Sage----" suggested Colonel Walton.
+
+"You'd better tell the story, Sage, as Colonel Walton suggests," said
+Mr. Llewellyn John.
+
+"There is an official report in preparation," said Colonel Walton.
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John nodded.
+
+In the course of the next half-hour Malcolm Sage kept his hearers in a
+state of breathless interest by the story of the coming and going of
+John Dene, as known to Department Z.
+
+"I gave Mr. Dene the credit of being possessed of more than the
+ordinary amount of what he calls 'head-filling,'" began Sage, "but I
+didn't realise at first that he possessed a twin brother; but I'll
+begin at the beginning."
+
+"When you turned over the matter to Department Z.," continued Malcolm
+Sage, "we made exhaustive inquiries and discovered that the Huns were
+determined to prevent the _Destroyer_ from putting to sea, and they
+were prepared at any cost to stop Mr. Dene from going north.  In Canada
+and on the way over they made attempts upon his life; but then, as so
+frequently happens, they became the victims of divided councils.  They
+wanted the plans.  Thanks to, er--certain happenings they learned that
+the _Destroyer_ would not sail without Mr. Dene."
+
+"How?" interpolated Mr. Llewellyn John
+
+"They obtained the guarantee."
+
+"I remember," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "it was stolen."
+
+"Mr. Dene used to leave his safe open with such papers in it as he
+wanted the enemy to see.  That's what he meant when on one occasion he
+said, 'If you've got a hungry dog feed it.'"
+
+Sir Bridgman North laughed, Sir Lyster turned to him reproachfully.
+
+"Mr. Dene became convinced that an effort would be made to kidnap and
+hold him to ransom, the price being the plans of the _Destroyer_.
+Department Z. also became convinced of this, but at a later date.  As a
+precaution John Dene sent to England by another ship his twin brother,
+known as James Grant.  When everything was ready the two changed
+places; that accounted for the strangeness of manner that Miss West
+noticed with Mr. Dene a few days before his disappearance."
+
+Malcolm Sage then went on to explain the method by which the false John
+Dene had been kidnapped, and of Department Z.'s discovery with relation
+to Mr. Montagu Naylor.
+
+"But all that time what happened to the _Destroyer_?"
+
+"The _Destroyer_ was responsible for the extraordinary increase in the
+mortality among U-boats."
+
+Mr. Llewellyn John jumped from his chair as if he had been thrown up by
+a hidden spring.
+
+"But--but----" he began.
+
+"Mr. Dene hit upon a clever ruse," continued Sage, "and----"
+
+"But the advertisements!  Did you know this at the time?"
+
+"It was known at Department Z., sir, and the advertisements were to
+convince the Hun of our eagerness to find John Dene so that we might
+start operations."
+
+"I see, I see," cried Mr. Llewellyn John; "but how on earth did you
+ferret all this out?"
+
+"We just sat down, sir, and waited for the other side to make
+mistakes," said Malcolm Sage quietly, "just as the Opposition does in
+the House of Commons," he added slyly.
+
+And Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.
+
+
+"It was better to say nothing about the Finlay business," said Malcolm
+Sage, as he and Colonel Walton walked back to St. James's Square.
+"It's results they're concerned with."
+
+Colonel Walton nodded.  "We must see John Dene, however," he said.
+
+"If only for the good of his own soul," said Sage, as he knocked his
+pipe against a railing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+COMMANDER JOHN DENE GOES TO BOURNEMOUTH
+
+
+I
+
+Late one afternoon when Dorothy and Mrs. West were walking along the
+Christchurch Road on their way back to the boarding-house for dinner,
+Dorothy suddenly gave vent to an exclamation, and with both hands
+clutched her mother's arm so fiercely that she winced with the pain.
+
+"Look, mother," she cried, "it's----"
+
+Following the direction of her daughter's eyes Mrs. West saw walking
+sturdily towards them on the other side of the road, a man in the
+uniform of a naval commander.  In his mouth was a cigar, from which he
+was puffing volumes of smoke.  With a little cry Mrs. West recognised
+him.  It was John Dene of Toronto.
+
+There was no mistaking that truculent, aggressive air of a man who
+knows his own mind, and is determined that every one else shall know it
+too.
+
+Suddenly Dorothy released her mother's arm and, running across the
+road, planted herself directly in John Dene's path.
+
+"Mr. Dene!" she cried, when he was within a yard or two of her.
+
+Several passers-by turned their heads.  For a fraction of a moment John
+Dene gazed at the apparition in front of him, not recognising Dorothy
+in the white frock and large hat that shaded her eyes.  Then with what
+was to him a super-smile, he held out his hand.
+
+"Say, this is bully," he cried, giving Dorothy a grip that caused her
+to wince.  "I've just been to your apartment-house and found you out."
+Then catching sight of Mrs. West, "Why, there's your mother," he cried
+and, gripping Dorothy's arm with an enthusiasm that she was convinced
+would leave bruises, he guided her across the road.  A moment later
+Mrs. West was having the greatest difficulty in preserving a straight
+face under John Dene's vigorous greeting.
+
+"I've been chasing all over Robin Hood's barn to find you," he cried,
+still clasping Mrs. West's hand.
+
+"And according to the papers other people have been doing the same with
+you," said Dorothy, deciding in her own mind that John Dene ought to
+spend the rest of his life in uniform.  It gave him a distinction that
+hitherto he had lacked in the ill-cut and ill-made clothes he
+habitually wore.
+
+"I found these waiting for me at my hotel," he said, looking down at
+himself, as if divining her thoughts.  "I ordered them way back," he
+added.
+
+"You look very nice, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West, smiling happily.  She
+had not yet recovered from her surprise.
+
+"All the girls are turning and envying mother and me," said Dorothy
+mischievously.
+
+"Envying you?"  John Dene turned upon her a look of interrogation.
+
+"For being with you," she explained.
+
+For some reason John Dene's face fell.  Mrs. West hastened to the
+rescue.
+
+"We've all been so anxious about you," she smiled.  "We--we thought----"
+
+"And shall I get twenty thousand pounds if I give you up to a
+policeman?" asked Dorothy.  She felt she wanted to cry from sheer
+happiness.
+
+"Reward's withdrawn.  Haven't you seen the papers?" he said
+practically; "but they nearly did for Jim," he added inconsequently.
+
+"Jim!" repeated Dorothy.  "Who is Jim?"
+
+"My brother," was the reply.  "He took my place and I went north."
+
+"Oooooooh!"  Gradually light was dawning upon Dorothy.  "Then it wasn't
+you who forgot where the stamps were kept and," she added wickedly,
+"seemed to disapprove of me so."
+
+"Disapprove of _you_!"  John Dene managed to precipitate such a wealth
+of meaning into the words that Dorothy felt herself blushing furiously.
+Even Mrs. West appeared a little embarrassed at his directness.
+
+"Here, it's about time we had some food," he said, turning his wrist to
+see the time.
+
+"We were just going home to dinner," said Mrs. West.  "Won't you come
+with us?"
+
+"I want you to come right along to my hotel.  I've booked a table for
+you."
+
+"That's not very complimentary to our attractiveness, Mr. Dene," said
+Dorothy.
+
+Again John Dene turned to her with a puzzled look in his eyes.
+
+"You should have assumed that two such desirable people as mother and
+me were dining out every night, shouldn't he, mother?"
+
+John Dene turned to Mrs. West, his brows meeting in a frown of
+uncertainty.
+
+"Dorothy will never be serious," she explained with a little sigh.
+"She's only joking," whereat John Dene's face cleared, and without
+further ado he hailed a taxi.  As Sir Bridgman North had said, John
+Dene never waited to be contradicted.
+
+That evening many of the diners at the Imperial turned their heads in
+the direction of a table at which sat a man in the uniform of a naval
+commander, a fair-haired girl and a little white-haired lady, the
+happiness of whose face seemed to arouse responsive smiles in those who
+gazed at her.
+
+Slowly and haltingly John Dene told of what had happened since that
+Wednesday night some three months before when his brother had taken his
+place.  Although John Dene never hesitated when telling of what he was
+going to do, he seemed to experience considerable difficulty in
+narrating what he had actually done.
+
+"And aren't you happy?" enquired Dorothy, her eyes sparkling with
+excitement at the story of what the _Destroyer_, her _Destroyer_, had
+done.
+
+"Sure," he replied, looking straight into her eyes, whereat she dropped
+her gaze to the peach upon her plate.
+
+"I feel very proud that I know you, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West, her eyes
+moist with happiness.
+
+"Proud to know me!" he repeated, and then as if Mrs. West's statement
+held some subtle humour that he alone had seen, he smiled.
+
+"Why do you smile?" asked Dorothy, looking up at him from beneath her
+lashes.
+
+"Well, it tickled me some."
+
+"What did?" she demanded.
+
+"That anyone should be proud to know me," he said simply.
+
+"Perhaps it's because you've never gingered mother up," said Dorothy
+pertly.
+
+"Dorothy!"  Mrs. West looked anxiously at John Dene, but his eyes were
+on Dorothy.
+
+"And are you glad to know me?" he demanded
+
+"'Proud' was the word," corrected Dorothy, playing with her fruit knife.
+
+"'Glad' will do," he said, watching her keenly.  "Are you glad I'm
+back."
+
+"'You see I'm your secretary," she said demurely, "and I'm--I'm paid to
+be glad, aren't I?"
+
+John Dene's face fell.
+
+"When you get to know her better," said Mrs. West, "you will see that
+she only teases her friends."
+
+"And her poor mother," put in Dorothy.  "When do we resume work, Mr.
+Dene?" she asked, turning to him.
+
+"We'll go back to-morrow a.m.," he said, obviously relieved at the
+suggestion.
+
+"But our holidays!" cried Dorothy in mock consternation.
+
+"You can have as long a vacation as you like when I'm through," was the
+answer, and Dorothy drew a sigh of relief.  She was longing to get back
+to work.
+
+That night she and Mrs. West sat up until dawn was fingering the east,
+talking of the miraculous reappearance of John Dene of Toronto, as they
+leisurely packed ready for the morrow.
+
+
+II
+
+For nearly an hour John Dene had sat in his chair listening.  From time
+to time he gave to the unlit half-cigar in his mouth a rapid twirl with
+his tongue; but beyond that he had manifested no sign of emotion.
+
+Quietly and as succinctly as possible Malcolm Sage had gone over the
+happenings of the last few months, telling of the discovery of Mr.
+Montagu Naylor's secret code, how it had enabled Department Z. to
+enlarge the scope of its operations, how Finlay had hampered Mr. Naylor
+in his murderous intentions with regard to his prisoner by suggesting
+the displeasure that would be created in high quarters, if anything
+happened to John Dene before the plans of the _Destroyer_ had been
+secured.
+
+"I didn't figure on Jim getting corralled," said John Dene at length.
+
+"That was where your reasoning was at fault," was Malcolm Sage's quiet
+retort.
+
+"I warned him," began John Dene; then a moment later he added, "I'd
+hate to have anything happen to Jim.  He seems all used up."
+
+"He'll be all right in a month or so," said Colonel Walton reassuringly.
+
+"He's always sort of been around when I've wanted things done, has
+Jim," continued John Dene with a note of real feeling in his voice.
+"He's a white man, clean to the bone."
+
+Malcolm Sage had already learned all he wanted to know with regard to
+James Dene.  Quiet, taciturn, seldom uttering more than a word or two
+at a time, and then only when absolutely necessary, he was entirely
+devoid of the brilliant qualities of his brother, for whom, however, he
+possessed an almost dog-like affection.  All their lives it had been
+John who had planned things, and James who had stood admiringly by.
+
+"I was tickled to death about those advertisements," said John Dene
+presently.
+
+"You probably thought we were barking up the wrong tree," suggested
+Colonel Walton.
+
+"Sure, until you put me wise."
+
+"We were trying to play into your hands and save your brother," said
+Malcolm Sage, as he knocked the ashes from his pipe against the heel of
+his boot, and proceeded to stuff tobacco into the bowl.
+
+"If it hadn't been for those advertisements----" began John Dene, then
+he paused.
+
+"The first hole dug in Mr. Naylor's back-garden would have been
+filled-in again," said Sage quietly.
+
+"But how did they manage Jim after he'd got into that taxi?"
+
+"The driver released a multiple curtain that fell over his head.  As it
+dropped chloroform was sprayed over it.  Quite a simple automatic
+contrivance."
+
+There was a look in John Dene's eyes that would have been instructive
+to Mr. Naylor could he have seen it.
+
+"They took him right out into the country," continued Sage, "then
+brought him to and doped him.  He was taken to 'The Cedars' between one
+and two the next morning.  That was where we picked up the scent
+again," he added.
+
+As Sage ceased speaking, Colonel Walton offered his cigar-case to John
+Dene, who, taking a cigar proceeded to light it.
+
+"By the way, Mr. Dene," said Sage casually, "do you remember some one
+treading on your toe at King's Cross the night you were going north.
+You were quite annoyed about it."
+
+John Dene nodded and looked across at Sage, as if expecting something
+further.
+
+"That was one of our men."
+
+"But----"
+
+"I told him to tread on your toe," proceeded Malcolm Sage, "so that you
+might remember that Department Z. was not quite so----"
+
+"Now it gets me," cried John Dene.  "It was you who trod on my foot at
+the theatre."
+
+"At 'Chu Chin Chow,'" said Malcolm Sage, smiling.
+
+"Seems to be a sort of stunt of yours," said John Dene as he rose.
+
+"Going, Mr. Dene?" enquired Colonel Walton.
+
+"Yep!" he said, as he shook hands with each in turn, then with an air
+of conviction added: "I take it all back.  You'd do well in T'ronto:"
+and with a nod he went out.
+
+"I wonder if that's a testimonial to us, or a reflection upon Toronto,"
+murmured Malcolm Sage, as he polished his nails with a silk
+handkerchief.
+
+"What I like about colonials," remarked Colonel Walton drily, "is their
+uncompromising directness."
+
+Whilst John Dene was removing, from the list of things that required
+gingering-up, Department Z. and its two chiefs, Mr. Llewellyn John was
+engaged in reading Commander Ryles's report upon the operations of the
+_Destroyer_.  It proved to be one of the most remarkable documents of
+the war.  First it described how the _Destroyer_ had hung about the
+Danish coast, but had been greatly embarrassed by the density of the
+water, owing to the shallowness of the North Sea.  She had carefully to
+seek out the clear passages where the depth was sufficiently great to
+prevent the discolouration of water by sand.
+
+After the first few weeks the _Destroyer_ had been brought south, there
+to catch U-boats soon after they submerged.  That was where the Germans
+suffered their greatest losses.  Once the _Destroyer_ had penetrated
+right into the Heligoland Bight, her "eyes" enabling her to avoid
+submerged mines and entanglements.
+
+Commander Ryles had himself witnessed the destruction of thirty-four
+U-boats.  Three times the _Destroyer_ had returned to her base to
+re-victual and recharge her batteries, also to rest her crew.  At the
+termination of the third trip, it had been decided that the boat was
+badly in need of a thorough overhaul, and in accordance with the
+instructions received, he had prepared his report and brought it south
+in order that he might deliver it in person to the First Lord.
+
+When he had finished the lengthy document, Mr. Llewellyn John laid it
+on the table beside him.  For some minutes he sat thinking.  Presently
+he pressed the knob of the bell.  As a secretary appeared he said,
+"Ring through to Sir Roger Flynn, and tell him I shall be delighted if
+he can breakfast with me to-morrow."
+
+And Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+JOHN DENE'S PROPOSAL
+
+Marjorie Rogers had entered the outer office at Waterloo Place
+expecting to find Dorothy.  Instead, John Dene sat half-turned in her
+direction, with one arm over the back of the chair.
+
+"She's gone home," he said, divining the cause of Marjorie's call.
+
+The girl slipped into the room, softly closing the door behind her, and
+walked a hesitating step or two in John Dene's direction, a picture of
+shy maidenhood.  Marjorie Rogers was an instinctive actress.
+
+"Gone home!" she repeated as a conversational opening.  "Is she ill?"
+She gave him a look from beneath her lashes, a look she had found
+equally deadly with subs and captains.
+
+John Dene shook his head, but continued to gaze at her.
+
+He was a very difficult man to talk to, Marjorie decided.  She had
+already come to the conclusion that she had been wrong in her suspicion
+that he made love to Dorothy.
+
+"You don't like us, do you, Mr. Dene?"  She made a half-step in his
+direction, dropping her eyes and drawing in her under lip in a way that
+had once nearly caused a rear-admiral to strike his colours.
+
+"Like who?" demanded John Dene, wondering why the girl stayed now that
+he had told her Dorothy had gone home.
+
+"Us girls."  Marjorie flashed at him the sub-captain look.  "May I sit
+down?" she asked softly.
+
+"Sure."  John Dene was regarding her much as he might a blue zebra that
+had strayed into his office.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Dene."  Marjorie sat down, crossing her legs in a way
+that gave him the full benefit of a dainty foot and ankle.  She had on
+her very best silk stockings, silk all the way up, so that there need
+be no anxiety as to the exact whereabouts of her skirt.
+
+"I have been wondering about Wessie----"
+
+"Wessie, who's she, a cat?"
+
+Marjorie dimpled, then she laughed outright.
+
+"You are funny, Mr. Dene," and again she drew in her lower lip and
+raked him with her eyes.
+
+"Who's Wessie, anyhow?" he demanded.
+
+"Wessie's Dorothy," she explained.  "You see," she went on, "her name's
+West and----"
+
+"I get you."  John Dene continued to regard her with a look that
+suggested he was still at a loss to account for her presence.
+
+"As I said," she continued, "I've been wondering about Dorothy."
+
+"Wondering what?"
+
+John Dene was certainly a most difficult man to talk to, she decided.
+
+"She's thinner," announced Marjorie after a slight pause.
+
+"Thinner?"
+
+"Yes, not so fat."  How absurd he was with his----
+
+"She never was fat."  There was decision in John Dene's tone.
+
+"You know, Mr. Dene, you're very difficult for a girl to talk to," said
+Marjorie.
+
+"I never had time to learn," he said simply.
+
+"I think it's through you, Mr. Dene."  She gave him a little fugitive
+smile she had learned from an American film, and had practised
+assiduously at home.
+
+"What's through me?" he demanded, hopelessly at sea as to her drift.
+
+"At first I thought you were working her too hard, Mr. Dene, but," she
+added hastily, as if in anticipation of protest, "but--but----"
+
+"But what?"  John Dene rapped out the words with a peremptoriness that
+startled Marjorie.
+
+"But when you got lost----"  She hesitated.
+
+"Got what?"
+
+"I mean when you disappeared," she added hastily, "then I knew."
+
+"Knew what?"
+
+Marjorie no longer had any doubts about John Dene's interest in
+Dorothy.  He had swung round his chair, and was now seated directly
+facing her.
+
+"You know she worried," continued Marjorie, "and she got pale and----"
+Again she paused.
+
+John Dene continued to stare in a way that made her frightened to look
+up, although she watched him furtively through her lowered lashes.
+
+"Is that what you came here to say?" demanded John Dene.
+
+"I--I came to see Dorothy, and now I must run away," she cried, jumping
+up.  "I've got an appointment.  Good-bye, Mr. Dene.  Thank you for
+asking me in;" and she held out her hand, which John Dene took as a man
+takes a circular thrust upon him.
+
+A moment later Marjorie had fluttered out, closing the door behind her.
+
+"Well, that's given him something to think about," she murmured, as she
+walked down the stairs.  "Wessie must have me down to stay with her.
+He's sure to get a title;" and she made for the Tube, there to join the
+westward-rolling tide of patient humanity that cheerfully pays for a
+seat and hangs on a strap.
+
+For nearly an hour John Dene sat at his table as Marjorie had left him,
+twirling in his mouth a half-smoked cigar that had not been alight
+since the early morning.  His face was expressionless, but in his eyes
+there was a strange new light.
+
+The next morning when Dorothy arrived at the office, she found Sir
+Bridgman North with John Dene, who was angry.
+
+"Just because somebody's lost a spanner, or a screw-driver, they're
+raising Cain about it.  Look at all these," and he waved a bunch of
+papers in front of Sir Bridgman.
+
+"It's a way they have in the Navy.  We never lose sight of anything."
+
+"Except the main issue, winning the war," snapped John Dene.
+
+"Oh, we'll get on with that when we've found the spanner," laughed Sir
+Bridgman good humouredly.
+
+"I don't want to be worried about a ten cent spanner, and have a couple
+of letters a day about it," grumbled John Dene, "and I won't have it."
+
+"What I used to do," said Sir Bridgman, "was just to tell them that
+everything possible should be done.  Then they feel happier and don't
+worry so much.  Why I once lost a 12-inch gun, and they were quite nice
+about it when I told them that somebody must have put it aside for
+safety, and that it had probably got mislaid in consequence.  I never
+found that gun.  You see, Dene," he added a moment later, "we indent
+everything--except an admiral, and it doesn't matter much if he gets
+lost."
+
+John Dene grumbled something in his throat.  He was still smarting
+under the demands from the Stores Department to produce forthwith the
+missing article.
+
+"Now I must be off," said Sir Bridgman, and with a nod to John Dene and
+a smile to Dorothy he departed.
+
+All the morning John Dene was restless.  He seemed unable to
+concentrate upon anything.  Several times he span round in his
+revolving chair with a "Say, Miss West;" but as soon as Dorothy raised
+her eyes from her work, he seemed to lose the thread of his ideas and,
+with a mumbled incoherence, turned to the mechanical sorting of the
+papers before him.
+
+Dorothy was puzzled to account for his strangeness of manner, and after
+a time determined that he must be ill.
+
+Presently he jumped up and began restlessly pacing the room.  Three
+times he paused beside Dorothy as she was engaged in checking
+inventories.  Immediately she looked up, he pivoted round on his heel
+and restarted the pacing, twirling between his lips the cigar that had
+gone out an hour before.
+
+On the fourth occasion that he stood looking down at her, Dorothy
+turned.
+
+"If you do that, I shall scream," she cried.
+
+He stepped back a pace, obviously disconcerted by her threat.
+
+"Do what?" he enquired.
+
+"Why, prance up and down like that, and then come and stand over me.
+It--it makes me nervous," she added lamely, as she returned to her work.
+
+"Sorry," said John Dene, as he threw himself once more into his chair.
+
+Suddenly with an air of decision, Dorothy put down her pencil and
+turning, faced him.
+
+"Aren't you well, Mr. Dene?" she inquired.
+
+"Well," he repeated with some asperity.  "Of course I'm well."
+
+"Oh!" she said, disconcerted by his manner.  Then for a moment there
+was silence.
+
+"Why shouldn't I be well?" he demanded uncompromisingly.
+
+"No reason at all," said Dorothy indifferently, "only----"  She paused.
+
+"Only what?" he enquired sharply.
+
+"Only," she continued calmly, "you seem a little--a little--may I say
+jumpy?"  She looked up at him with a smile.
+
+Without replying he sprang from his chair, and once more started pacing
+the room with short, nervous strides, his head thrust forward, his left
+hand in his jacket pocket, his right hanging loosely at his side.
+
+"That's it!" he exclaimed at last.
+
+Dorothy continued to regard him in wonder.  Something of vital
+importance must have happened, she decided, to produce this effect on a
+man of John Dene's character.
+
+"It's--it's not the _Destroyer_" she cried breathlessly at last.
+"Nothing has happened?"
+
+John Dene shook his head vigorously, and continued his "prancing."
+
+"Then what----" began Dorothy.
+
+"Listen," he said.  "I've never had any use for women," he began, then
+stopped suddenly and stood looking straight at her.
+
+Dorothy groaned inwardly, convinced that she was about to be dismissed.
+In a flash there surged through her mind all that this would mean.  She
+might be taken on again by the Admiralty; but at less than half her
+present salary.  It was really rather bad luck, she told herself, when
+the extra money meant so much to her, and she really had tried to be
+worth it.
+
+"You see, I don't understand them."
+
+The remark broke in upon her thoughts as something almost silly in its
+irrelevancy.  Again she looked up at him as he stood before her rather
+as if expecting rebuke.  Again he span round and continued his pacing
+of the room.
+
+As he walked he threw staccatoed remarks from him rather than directed
+them at Dorothy.
+
+"There's nothing wrong with the _Destroyer_.  When you're after one
+thing you don't seem to notice all the other things buzzing around.
+One day you wake up to find out that you've been missing things.  I've
+been telling myself all the time that some things didn't matter, but
+they do."
+
+He paused in front of Dorothy, expressing the last three words with
+almost savage emphasis.
+
+"There's never been anybody except Jim--and the boys," he added, "until
+your mother was----"  He stopped dead, then a moment later continued:
+"I'd like her to know."  To Dorothy his voice seemed a little husky.
+"May be it'ud please her to think that she had--you see I'm telling you
+the whole shooting-match," he blurted out as he resumed his restless
+pacing up and down.
+
+"But that's just what you're not doing," said Dorothy.  "I don't in the
+least understand what you mean, and----  Oh, I wish you could stand
+still, if only for a minute."
+
+Instantly John Dene stopped in his walk, and stood in the middle of the
+room looking over Dorothy's head.
+
+"I'm trying to ask you to marry me, only I haven't got the sand to do
+it," he blurted out almost angrily.
+
+"Oh!"  Dorothy's hands slipped into her lap, her eyes widened and her
+lips parted, as she looked up at him utterly dumbfounded.
+
+"There, I knew what it would mean," he said, as he continued his
+pacing.  "What have I got to offer?  Look at me.  I'm not good-looking.
+My clothes are not right.  I don't wear them properly.  I can't say
+pretty things.  The best I can do is to buy flowers and chocolates and
+express them.  I daren't even hand them to you.  Oh, I've thought it
+all over.  What use am I to a woman?"  Then as an after-thought he
+added, "to a girl?"  He turned and paced away from Dorothy without
+looking at her.
+
+"Oh, shucks!"
+
+John Dene swung round on his heel as if he had been struck.  His jaw
+dropped, his cigar fell from his mouth, and he looked at her as if she
+had said the most surprising thing he had ever heard.
+
+"I said 'shucks'" she repeated.  Her eyelids flickered a little and she
+was unusually pale.
+
+"You mean----"  His voice was far from steady.
+
+"I mean," said Dorothy quietly, "that a man who could invent the
+_Destroyer_ ought to be able to learn how to talk to--to--be nice to a
+girl."  The last five words came tumbling over each other, as if she
+had found great difficulty in uttering them, and then had thrown them
+all out at one time.
+
+"Say," he began, hope shining from his eyes.  Then he stopped abruptly
+and walked over to his chair, throwing himself into it with a sigh.
+"You mean."
+
+"Perhaps," said Dorothy, dropping her eyes and playing about with a
+fastening on her blouse, "I might be able to help you."  Then after a
+pause she added, "You know you got me a rise."
+
+And then John Dene smiled.  "Say, this is great," he cried.  "I--I----"
+Then suddenly he jumped up, dashed for his hat and made for the door.
+As he opened it he threw over his shoulder:
+
+"We'll start right in to-morrow.  I'm through with work for to-day.
+I'll be over to-night."
+
+Then suddenly Dorothy laughed.  "Was ever maid so wooed?" she murmured.
+"But----" and she left it at that.
+
+As she thrust the pins into her hat, she decided that John Dene had
+been right.  It would have been awkward to--to--well, to do anything
+but go home.
+
+Just as she was about to lock the outer door of the office, she had an
+inspiration.  Returning to her table she removed her gloves and, after
+a few minutes' thought and reference to the London Directory, she sat
+down to her typewriter and for a few minutes her fingers moved busily
+over the keys.
+
+With a determined air she pulled the sheet from the clips and read:--
+
+
+  "JOHN DENE OF TORONTO.  Lesson 1.
+
+  Tailors . . . Pond and Co., 130 Sackville Street.
+  Hosiers . . . Tye Brothers, 320 Jermyn Street.
+  Bootmakers  . Ease & Treadwell, 630 Bond Street.
+  Hatters . . . Messrs. Bincoln and Lennet, Piccadilly.
+
+When a man knows his job, let him do it and don't butt in."
+
+
+With a determined little nod of approval, she folded the sheet of
+paper, inserted it in an envelope, which she addressed to "John Dene,
+Esq., The Ritzton Hotel, S.W.  Immediate," and left the office.
+
+"I wonder what you would think of that, mother mine," she murmured as
+she left the hotel, after having given strict injunctions that the note
+be handed to John Dene immediately he returned.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+MARJORIE ROGERS PAYS A CALL
+
+"Well, mother darling," cried Dorothy, as she jerked the pins into her
+hat, "you've lost the odd trick."
+
+"The odd trick!" repeated Mrs. West, looking up with a smile into her
+daughter's flushed and happy face.  "What odd trick?"
+
+"John Dene of Toronto.  Whoop!  I want to jazz.  I wonder if he
+jazzes;" then, with a sudden change of mood she dropped down beside her
+mother's chair and buried her face in her lap.  When she looked up her
+eyes were wet with tears.  "Mother, darling, I'm so happy."  She smiled
+a rainbow smile.
+
+"What did you mean about the odd trick, dear?" enquired Mrs. West
+greatly puzzled, accustomed as she was to her daughter's rapid change
+of mood.
+
+"John Dene's the odd trick," she repeated, "and I'm going to marry
+him."  Again she hid her face.
+
+"Dorothy!"
+
+"I am, mother, really and really."  She looked up for a moment, then
+once more she buried her face in her mother's lap.
+
+"Dorothy dear, what do you mean?"
+
+"Oh! he was so funny when he proposed," gurgled Dorothy, "and I just
+said 'shucks.'  That seemed to please him."
+
+"Dorothy dear, are you joking?"
+
+"Not unless John Dene's a joke, mother dear," she replied.  "Wouldn't
+it be funny to call him Jack?"  Then she told her mother of the
+happenings of the afternoon.
+
+"Please say you're glad," she said a little wistfully.
+
+"I'm--I'm so surprised, dear," said Mrs. West, stroking her daughter's
+head gently; "but I'm glad, very glad."
+
+"I thought you would be, and I shall be Lady Dene.  Everybody at the
+Admiralty says he'll get a title, and you'll have to say to the
+servants, 'Is her ladyship at home?'  You won't forget, mother, will
+you?"  She looked up with mock anxiety into her mother's face.
+
+Mrs. West smiled down at Dorothy; her eyes too were wet.
+
+"But oh! there's such a lot of spade work to be done," continued
+Dorothy.  "I shall begin with his boots."
+
+"His boots!"
+
+"They're so dreadful, mother.  They're all built up in front as if they
+were made to kick with, and when I marry him, if there's any kicking to
+be done, I'm going to do it."
+
+"Of course you realise, dear, that he's much older than you," said Mrs.
+West hesitatingly.
+
+"He's a perfect baby-in-arms compared with me," she smiled at her
+mother, a quaint confident little smile.
+
+"But you're sure that--that----"  Mrs. West hesitated.
+
+Dorothy nodded her head violently.
+
+"When----" began Mrs. West.
+
+"It--it was when he disappeared," she said with averted face.  "I--I
+seemed to miss him so much.  Oh! but mother," she cried, clasping her
+mother's knee, "he's so funny, and really he wants someone to look
+after him.  You see," she continued slowly, gazing away from her
+mother, "it's always difficult to----  What made you love--care for
+father?" she corrected.
+
+"He was your father, dear."
+
+"Yes; but he wasn't before you married him."
+
+"Dear, you----" began Mrs. West, a flush of embarrassment mounting to
+her cheeks.
+
+"Own up, mother, that you don't know.  You can't say it was the shape
+of his nose, or the way he ate, or his chest measurement."
+
+"Dorothy! why will you never be serious?" protested Mrs. West.
+
+"I can't, mother," cried Dorothy, jumping up and walking over to the
+window.  "No girl ever really knows why she wants to marry a man," she
+remarked, gazing out of the window.  "It's just a feeling.  I've got a
+feeling that I want to take care of John Dene, and--and--oh, mother!
+see to his boots," she finished with a laugh.
+
+"I like Mr. Dene, Dorothy," said Mrs. West with a decisiveness that was
+with her uncommon.
+
+"I know you do," said Dorothy mischievously.  "That's what I'm afraid
+of."
+
+"Dorothy dear, you mustn't," began Mrs. West.
+
+"And," continued Dorothy relentlessly, "I won't have any poaching.  I
+don't mind his being nice to you," she continued, leaving the window
+and planting herself in front of her mother, "because you really are
+rather nice."  She tilted her head on one side, a picture of impudence.
+"Now, Mrs. West," she said, "the sooner we understand each other the
+better."
+
+Again she was back on the stool at her mother's feet.  For some minutes
+there was silence.
+
+"Mother!"  She looked up with grave and serious eyes.
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"I always prayed for--for him to come back.  I--I----  Oh bother!" as
+the bell rang.
+
+"I wonder who that is.  We won't answer it."
+
+"But we must, dear," expostulated Mrs. West.  "It might be a friend."
+
+"Oh, well," cried Dorothy, getting up and going out into the tiny hall.
+A moment later she re-entered, followed by Marjorie Rogers.  "It's
+Marjorie, mother."
+
+Mrs. West smiled up at her as the girl bent to kiss her.
+
+"I've come to know," began Marjorie, then she hesitated.
+
+"To know what?" asked Dorothy.
+
+"If it's all right."
+
+"If what's all right?"
+
+"J. D."
+
+"What do you mean, Rojjie?" cried Dorothy, blushing.
+
+"Did he propose?  You know I ran in this afternoon and gave him a hint."
+
+"You what?" cried Dorothy aghast.
+
+"Oh!  I just gave him a sort of hint that he was----"
+
+"You wretched little creature!" cried Dorothy, seizing Marjorie and
+shaking her vigorously.  There was a look in her eyes that half
+frightened the girl.
+
+"Help!  Oh, Mrs. West!" cried Marjorie, "she's killing me."
+
+"What did you say to him?" demanded Dorothy fiercely.
+
+"I just gave him a hint," repeated Marjorie airily.  "I knew he was in
+love with you."
+
+"What did you say to him?"  Again Dorothy shook her.
+
+"Oh, Wessie, if you do that you'll shake all my hair off, not to speak
+of my teeth.  All I said was that you had wasted away when he was lost,
+and mind, you've got to ask me down to your place, wherever it is,
+because it's all through me.  Oughtn't she, Mrs. West?" she appealed.
+
+Mrs. West smiled a little uncertainly.
+
+"Marjorie, you're a pig," cried Dorothy, "and I don't believe you did
+go and see him."
+
+"Oh! didn't I, then why do you suppose I've got my new stockings on?"
+she cried, lifting her skirts.
+
+"Children, children," smiled Mrs. West.
+
+"My chief says he'll be made a baronet, so that'll be all right for the
+kids," said Marjorie.
+
+"Rojjie!" cried Dorothy in confusion, and a moment later she had rushed
+from the room.
+
+When Dorothy returned to the little drawing-room a quarter of an hour
+later, she found that Marjorie had accepted Mrs. West's invitation to
+stay to dinner.
+
+"Is he going to call this evening?" she asked eagerly.
+
+"Don't be inquisitive," cried Dorothy, conscious that she was blushing.
+
+"You're in love with him, Dorothy, aren't you?" persisted Marjorie.
+
+"Oh, mother, please tread on this horrid little creature," cried
+Dorothy; but Mrs. West merely smiled.
+
+"You know," continued Marjorie candidly, "he's not much to look at; but
+he beats all those boys at the Admiralty."  She shrugged her shoulders
+indifferently.  "It's nothing but chocolates, lunches and dinners, and
+take it out in kisses."
+
+"My dear," said Mrs. West with quiet dignity, "you mustn't talk like
+that."
+
+"I'm so sorry," cried Marjorie contritely; "but you know I get so fed
+up, Mrs. West.  John Dene's so different.  If it hadn't have been for
+Dorothy, I should have tried to get him for myself.  I could," she
+added, looking from one to the other.
+
+"You could probably get anything in the world except what you most
+wanted, Rojjie," said Dorothy sweetly.
+
+"What I most wanted," repeated the girl.
+
+"Yes, dear, a good spanking."
+
+Marjorie made a face at her.  Suddenly she jumped up from the table,
+and throwing her arms round Dorothy, kissed her impulsively, then a
+moment later she returned to her seat, a little shamefacedly as Dorothy
+and Mrs. West smiled across at her.
+
+"I know you think I'm a feather-headed little cat, Mrs. West," said
+Marjorie wisely.  "No, don't deny it," she persisted, as Mrs. West made
+a movement as if to speak.  "But I'm not worldly all through, really,
+and I do like John Dene, and of course I just love Dollikins," she said
+with a quaint little smile in Dorothy's direction.  "Would you sooner I
+went?" she asked, looking from one to the other.
+
+"Sooner you went?"
+
+"Yes, after dinner, I know that John Dene's coming to-night, although
+Dorothy won't own up."
+
+"We shouldn't let you go, should we, mother?"
+
+Mrs. West smiled and shook her head.
+
+"Oh, won't it be lovely," cried Marjorie ecstatically, "when I refer to
+my friend, Lady Dene.  And you will ask me down, Wessie darling, won't
+you, and get a lot of nice boys."
+
+Dorothy lowered her eyes to her plate and blushed.
+
+Later in the evening when they were all sitting in the drawing-room and
+a ring at the bell was heard, Marjorie danced about the room with
+excitement.
+
+"Oh, please let me open the door," she cried.  "I promise I won't kiss
+him."
+
+"No, dear," said Mrs. West.  "Dorothy."
+
+With flaming cheeks and reluctant steps Dorothy left the room.  It
+seemed to Marjorie a long time before she returned, followed by John
+Dene, who, when he had greeted Mrs. West, turned to Marjorie and shook
+hands.
+
+"His boots, Dorothy," whispered Marjorie a minute later.
+
+Dorothy looked down at John Dene's feet.  The ugly American "footwear"
+had been replaced by a pair of well-fitting brown boots.
+
+"Please, Mr. Dene, may I be a bridesmaid?"
+
+"Marjorie!" cried Dorothy.
+
+"I may, mayn't I?" persisted Marjorie.  "I'm sure Dorothy won't ask me
+unless you insist."
+
+"Sure," replied John Dene genially.  He was always a different man when
+with Mrs. West and Dorothy.
+
+"You hear, Dorothy.  If you don't make me chief bridesmaid I shall--I
+shall create a disturbance and say it's bigamy or something, and that
+Mr. Dene has already got two wives in Toronto, not to speak of Salt
+Lake City.  And now I must be running away.  Oh!  Mrs. West, you said
+you would give me that pattern," she said suddenly.
+
+"That pattern, dear," began Mrs. West, whilst Dorothy felt her cheeks
+burn.
+
+"Yes, don't you remember?"
+
+"What pattern?" began Mrs. West, then conscious that Marjorie was
+making hideous grimaces at her, she rose and walked towards the door,
+leaving John Dene and Dorothy alone.
+
+"No one would ever think you were married, Mrs. West," said Marjorie
+severely, as they walked into the dining-room.  "Don't you know that
+young people want to be alone when they're only just engaged."
+
+This with such a serious little air of womanly worldliness that Mrs.
+West's smile almost developed into a laugh.
+
+"Don't you think, Mrs. West, that God must be pleased when two nice
+people come together?" said Marjorie gravely.
+
+Mrs. West looked at her with slightly widening eyes, then recovering
+herself, said, "God is always glad because of happiness, dear."
+
+And Marjorie nodded her head as if in entire agreement with the
+sentiment.
+
+
+An hour later, when Marjorie had gone, Mrs. West entered the
+drawing-room, having been sent in by Dorothy to entertain John Dene
+whilst she wrote a letter.
+
+After a few commonplaces they sat in silence, John Dene smoking
+lustily, Mrs. West happy in her thoughts.  It was the Good Lord, she
+decided, who had ordained that Dorothy and John Dene should fall in
+love with each other, and thus crown with happiness the autumn of her
+days.
+
+"I've been trying to figure out all the afternoon why she said
+'shucks,'" John Dene suddenly burst in upon her thoughts in a way that
+startled her.
+
+"Said 'shucks!'" she repeated.  Mrs. West had a habit of repeating a
+phrase when not quite understanding it, or desirous of gaining time
+before framing her reply.
+
+"Sure."
+
+"But who said 'shucks'?" she asked, lifting her brows in an endeavour
+to comprehend, "and--what are 'shucks,' Mr. Dene?"
+
+"Shucks," repeated John Dene in his turn, "shucks are--are----"  He
+paused, then as if determining that this was a side issue he added:
+"When I told her to-day that I'd never had any use for girls,
+and--and----"  He looked at Mrs. West helplessly.
+
+She smiled.
+
+"She just said 'shucks.'"
+
+"I think she must have meant that you were too modest," said Mrs. West
+softly.
+
+"Me modest!"  John Dene sat up straight in his surprise.
+
+"I think that is what she must have meant."
+
+"I take it that down at the Admiralty they don't figure it out that
+way," he said grimly.  "Me modest," he repeated.  "What have I got to
+give any girl," he continued presently, "and a girl like--Dorothy."
+The name seemed to come with difficulty.  "I'm all wrong," he added
+with conviction.  "I can't talk----"
+
+"We love you just for yourself, John," said Mrs. West gently.
+
+For a moment there was a look of surprise in John Dene's eye, then with
+great deliberation he rose and, walking over to Mrs. West, bent down
+and kissed her cheek.
+
+"Oh!"
+
+John Dene started up and, turning to the door, saw Dorothy standing on
+the threshold looking from one to the other, her eyes dancing with
+mischief.  Mrs. West had flushed rosily, and with downcast eyes gave
+the impression of one who had been caught in some illicit act.
+
+"So this is what you two get up to when I leave the room," said Dorothy
+severely.
+
+"Sure," said John Dene, "and we'll be getting up to it again, won't we,
+mother?"
+
+And John Dene smiled.
+
+
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's note: underscored text is indicated by tildes (~), e.g.
+~this is underscored~.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS BY
+
+HERBERT JENKINS
+
+
+BINDLE
+
+Some chapters in the Life of Joseph Bindle.  One of the most popular
+books ever written.
+
+
+THE NIGHT CLUB
+
+Further episodes in the career of Bindle.  No less than 37,000 copies
+were called for within a few weeks of publication.
+
+
+ADVENTURES OF BINDLE
+
+Still more about J. B.  Two editions, completing 60,000 copies, were
+ordered before the book appeared.
+
+
+MRS. BINDLE
+
+Incidents from the life of the Bindles.  Among other things it tells
+how Mrs. Bindle met a bull.
+
+
+THE BINDLES ON THE ROCKS
+
+Another volume of stories of the Bindle menage.  Poor old Bindle loses
+his job and hard times are endured.
+
+
+JOHN DENE OF TORONTO
+
+A comedy of Whitehall which struck a new note and achieved new success.
+
+
+MALCOLM SAGE, DETECTIVE
+
+Some chapters from the records of the Malcolm Sage Bureau.  A book of
+thrills and mystery.
+
+
+PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER
+
+A comedy of the times, that has stirred five continents to laughter.
+
+
+THE RAIN-GIRL
+
+A romance of to-day, telling how Richard Beresford set out to tramp the
+roads as a vagabond.
+
+
+THE RETURN OF ALFRED
+
+A comedy of mis-identification by which a man is proclaimed a returned
+prodigal.
+
+
+THE STIFFSONS
+
+The troubles of Mr. and Mrs. Stiffson, and how Mr. Stiffson bought a
+parrot.  The book also contains other stories.
+
+
+
+THE HERBERT JENKINS' WIRELESS
+
+
+The Herbert Jenkins' Wireless is published monthly and it is priceless.
+In other words it will be sent post-free to all book-lovers--and others.
+
+It tells all about the latest Herbert Jenkins' Books.  It also contains
+many good stories and interesting personalities--in the best sense of
+the term.
+
+There are facts about authors and fictions about publishers.  Above all
+there is real information about books, not just press-opinions and
+other people's opinions, but what a book is about.
+
+One enthusiastic reader of The Herbert Jenkins' Wireless writes that it
+has enabled him to discontinue his subscriptions to Punch and The Times
+Literary Supplement!
+
+The Star in big headlines refers to The H. J. Wireless as "Gingering up
+the Book Trade," and goes on to say that "nothing so ingenious has yet
+been issued in this country."  Are you going to send for it to Herbert
+Jenkins Ltd., 3, York Street, St. James's, London, S.W.1?
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of John Dene of Toronto, by Herbert Jenkins
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