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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/33277-8.txt b/33277-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d607b57 --- /dev/null +++ b/33277-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10513 @@ +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: ISO-8859-1 + +*** 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 £20,000 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 £50,000 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-cachêt_. 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 tête-à-tête 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 à l'Americaine. + +"Typists don't eat lobster à 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 à +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 ménage. 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 verrückt '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 über 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 über 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 naïvely. "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 scêne_ 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 +£10,000 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 + +£10,000 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 £10,000 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 +£20,000 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 £1,000, rising daily from +£1,000 to £10,000. In two days it has amounted to £20,000." + +"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 cliché, 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 £10,000 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 £20,000. + +"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 £20,000 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 _Vorwärts_ 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 ménage 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 ménage. 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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN DENE OF TORONTO *** + +***** This file should be named 33277-8.txt or 33277-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/2/7/33277/ + +Produced by Al Haines, from scans obtained from The Internet Archive. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN DENE OF TORONTO *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines, from scans obtained from The Internet Archive. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN DENE +<BR> +of TORONTO +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +A COMEDY OF WHITEHALL +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HERBERT JENKINS +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AUTHOR OF "BINDLE" +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED +<BR> +3 YORK STREET LONDON S.W.1 +<BR> +1920 +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A<BR> +HERBERT<BR> +JENKINS'<BR> +BOOK<BR> +</H3> + +<BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Fifth printing</I> +<BR><BR><BR> +Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +TO<BR> +MY FRIEND AND COLLEAGUE<BR> +</H4> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHARLES ASKEW<BR> +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +WHO HAS BEEN AS STRENUOUS<BR> +AS THE TIMES THEMSELVES<BR> +AND INFINITELY MORE CHEERFUL<BR> +<BR> +MCMXV-MCMXIX<BR> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAP.</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">THE COMING OF JOHN DENE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">JOHN DENE'S WAY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">DEPARTMENT Z.</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">GINGERING UP THE ADMIRALTY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">JOHN DENE LEAVES WHITEHALL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">MR. MONTAGU NAYLOR OF STREATHAM</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">MR. NAYLOR RECEIVES A VISITOR</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">DOROTHY WEST AT HOME</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">DEPARTMENT Z. AT WORK</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">JOHN DENE GOES TO KEW</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">THE STRANGENESS OF JOHN DENE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">THE <I>DESTROYER</I> READY FOR SEA</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">THE DISAPPEARANCE OF JOHN DENE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">THE HUE AND CRY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">MR. LLEWELLYN JOHN BECOMES ALARMED</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">FINLAY'S S.O.S.</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">MALCOLM SAGE CASTS HIS NET</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">THE RETURN OF JOHN DENE</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">COMMANDER JOHN DENE GOES TO BOURNEMOUTH</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">JOHN DENE'S PROPOSAL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">MARJORIE ROGERS PAYS A CALL</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WHAT THIS STORY IS ABOUT +</H3> + +<P CLASS="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." +</P> + +<P CLASS="about"> +Suddenly John Dene disappears, and the whole civilised world is amazed +at an offer of £20,000 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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="about"> +By the way, what did happen to John Dene of Toronto? +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="about"> +For list of books by the same author, see page 319. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN DENE OF TORONTO +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE COMING OF JOHN DENE +</H4> + +<P> +"Straight along, down the steps, bear to the left and you'll find the +Admiralty on the opposite side of the way." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Excuse me," said John Dene, lifting his hat, "but is that the +Admiralty you've just come out of?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that is the Admiralty," she replied gravely in a voice that +caused John Dene momentarily to forget the Admiralty and all its works. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"This the Admiralty?" he enquired of the policeman. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," was the reply. "Did you want to see any one?" +</P> + +<P> +John Dene looked at the man in surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Why should I be here if I didn't?" he asked. "I want to see the First +Lord." +</P> + +<P> +The man's manner underwent a change. "If you'll step inside, sir, +you'll see an attendant." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene stepped inside and repeated his request, this time to a +frock-coated attendant. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you an appointment?" enquired the man. +</P> + +<P> +"No," responded John Dene indifferently. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you please fill in your name, sir, and state your business." +</P> + +<P> +"State my business," exclaimed John Dene, "not on your life." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid——" began the man. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"There, take that up and I'll wait," he said. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +John Dene proceeded to stride up and down with short, jerky steps, +twirling his unlit cigar round in his mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"Excuse me, sir," said the attendant, approaching, "but smoking is not +permitted." +</P> + +<P> +"That so?" remarked John Dene without interest, as he continued to roll +his cigar in his mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"Your cigar, sir," continued the man. +</P> + +<P> +"It's out." John Dene still continued to look about him. +</P> + +<P> +The attendant retired nonplussed. The rule specifically referred to +smoking, not to carrying unlit cigars in the mouth. +</P> + +<P> +At the end of five minutes, the attendant who had taken up John Dene's +name returned, and whispered to the doorkeeper. +</P> + +<P> +"If you will follow the attendant, sir, he will take you to see Sir +Lyster's secretary, Mr. Blair." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. John Dene?" he asked, looking at the slip of paper in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"You wish to see the First Lord?" continued the fair man. "I am his +secretary. Will you give me some idea of your business?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I won't," was the blunt response. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair was momentarily disconcerted by the uncompromising nature of +the retort, but quickly recovered himself. +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid Sir Lyster is very busy this morning," he said, +diplomatically. "If you——" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But will you not give me some idea——" began the secretary. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"Give him this," he said, turning to Mr. Blair, "and say I'm in a +hurry." +</P> + +<P> +Nothing but a long line of ancestors prevented Mr. Blair from gasping. +Instead he took the note with a diplomatic smile. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Sir Lyster will see you, Mr. Dene," he said with a smile. "Will you +come this way? I'm sorry if——" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be sorry," said John Dene patiently; "you're just doing your job +as best you can." +</P> + +<P> +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: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"DEAR SIR,— +</P> + +<P> +"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 £50,000 to the Red Cross. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"Yours faithfully,<BR> + "JOHN DENE."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +As the door opened he rose and held out his hand. Sir Lyster always +assumed a democratic air as a matter of political expediency. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Dene," he murmured, as he motioned his visitor to a seat. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"So I understand," said Sir Lyster quietly. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Er——" began the First Lord. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't," announced John Dene with conviction. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid——" began Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you'd better send for someone who does," was the uncompromising +rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster looked at his visitor in surprise, hesitated a moment, then +pressing a button said, as Mr. Blair appeared: +</P> + +<P> +"Will you ask Admiral Heyworth to come here immediately?" Mr. Blair +retired. "Admiral Heyworth," explained Sir Lyster, "is the Admiralty +authority on submarines." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene nodded. There was a pause. +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't you like to ring up the Agent-General for Can'da and find out +who I am?" suggested John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Admiral Heyworth, a little bald-headed man with beetling brows and a +humorous mouth, took the hand held out to him. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Now," said John Dene, turning to the Admiral, "what's the greatest +difficulty you're up against in submarine warfare?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," began Admiral Heyworth, "there are several. For instance——" +</P> + +<P> +"There's only one that matters," broke in John Dene; "your boats are +blind when submerged beyond the depth of their periscopes. That so?" +</P> + +<P> +The Admiral nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster and the Admiral exchanged puzzled glances, but said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose the Germans were able to sink a ship without even showing +their periscopes?" John Dene looked directly at the Admiral. +</P> + +<P> +"It would place us in a very precarious position," was the grave reply. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I think," said Sir Lyster, "that perhaps you exaggerate a lit——" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Admiral Heyworth started visibly, and Sir Lyster bent forward eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"You have!" cried Admiral Heyworth. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +It was John Dene who broke in upon their thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"The Huns have got it coming," he remarked grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"But——" began Admiral Heyworth. +</P> + +<P> +"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—<I>under water</I>." He paused, revolving his cigar +in his mouth. His listeners nodded eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"But how have you done it?" broke in the Admiral. +</P> + +<P> +"That," remarked John Dene drily, "is my funeral." +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster started at the decision in John Dene's tone. +</P> + +<P> +"Would Wednesday——" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Mr. Dene——" began Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +John Dene looked from one to the other. +</P> + +<P> +"But this is not exactly a matter of a pedigree-pup," suggested Admiral +Heyworth diplomatically. "It's a matter of—er——" +</P> + +<P> +"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 <I>Destroyer</I>—that's the name of my boat—is +sort of hanging around there, <I>with eyes</I> and some other little things +she's got, what then?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Really, Mr. Dene," protested Sir Lyster, flushing slightly. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"If you will sit down, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster suavely, "I'll +explain." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene hesitated for a moment, then humped himself into a chair, +gazing moodily before him. +</P> + +<P> +"We quite appreciate your—er—patriotism and public-spiritedness +in——" +</P> + +<P> +"Here, cut it out," broke in John Dene. "Do you want the <I>Destroyer</I> +or don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"May I suggest that under the circumstances we consult Mr. Llewellyn +John?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's bully," broke in John Dene without giving Sir Lyster a chance +of replying. "They say he's got pep." +</P> + +<P> +Bowing to the inevitable, Sir Lyster picked up the telephone-receiver. +</P> + +<P> +"Get me through to the Prime Minister," he said. +</P> + +<P> +The three men waited in silence for the response. As the bell rang, +Sir Lyster swiftly raised the receiver to his ear. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Dene tells us that he has solved the submarine problem," said Sir +Lyster, as he and Admiral Heyworth seated themselves. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps Mr. Dene will explain," suggested Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John nodded in eager acquiescence. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John sprang to his feet. +</P> + +<P> +"You have. Tell me, where is it? This is wonderful, wonderful! It +takes us a year forward." +</P> + +<P> +"It's on the St. Lawrence River, just below Quebec," explained John +Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"And how long will it take to construct say a hundred?" asked Mr. +Llewellyn John eagerly, dropping back into his chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Longer than any of us are going to live," replied John Dene grimly. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"But if you've made one——" began Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"There's only going to be one," announced John Dene grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"But——" +</P> + +<P> +"You can but like a he-goat," announced John Dene, "still there'll be +only our <I>Destroyer</I>." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps Mr. Dene will explain to us the difficulties," insinuated Sir +Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"It might embarrass——" began the Admiral. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Mr. Llewellyn John struck the table with his fist. +</P> + +<P> +"You're right, Mr. Dene," he cried; "they might capture one and copy +it. You remember the Gothas," he added, turning to Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," was John Dene's laconic reply. +</P> + +<P> +"But how can we be sure they will not capture the <I>Destroyer</I>?" +enquired Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you propose——" began Admiral Heyworth. +</P> + +<P> +"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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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 <I>Destroyer</I>, 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?" +</P> + +<P> +"But——" began Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"You make me tired," said John Dene wearily. "Is it or is it not a +deal?" he enquired of Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +With an effort the Prime Minister seemed to gather himself together. +He found the pace a little breathless, even for him. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I take it that you understand navigation, Mr. Dene?" ventured the +Admiral. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all right," laughed the Admiral; "they call me the coot." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, is it a deal?" demanded John Dene, rising. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do for you?" queried Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"Huns, they're after me every hour of the day. There was a little chap +even in your own building." +</P> + +<P> +"We really must intern these Germans——" began Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN DENE'S WAY +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman exchanged an amused glance with Admiral Heyworth, as they +too found chairs. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster when he had finished, "perhaps you +will continue." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> was to be based, and stores and fuel sufficient for six +months accumulated. This was to be proceeded with at once. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall want charts of the minefields," he said, "and full particulars +as to patrol flotillas and the like." +</P> + +<P> +Admiral Heyworth nodded comprehendingly. +</P> + +<P> +"By the way," he said, "there's one thing I do not quite understand." +</P> + +<P> +"Put a name to it," said John Dene tersely. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you propose to keep at sea for any length of time without +recharging your batteries?" +</P> + +<P> +"We shall be lying doggo most of the time," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Then in all probability the U-boats will pass over you." +</P> + +<P> +"We shan't be lying at the bottom of the sea, either," said John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"What!" exclaimed Admiral Heyworth, "but if your motor's cut off, +you'll sink to the bed of the sea—the law of gravity." +</P> + +<P> +"The <I>Destroyer</I> 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." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster looked from one to the other, unable to grasp such +technicalities; but conscious that Admiral Heyworth seemed surprised at +what he heard. +</P> + +<P> +"It's up to you to see that none of your boys start dropping +depth-charges around," said John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"And what is that?" asked Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall want a 'mother'——" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"A 'mother,'" he explained, "is a kangaroo-ship, a dry-dock ship for +salvage and repair of submarines. Yes, we'll fit you out." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene's thoroughness impressed his three hearers. Everything had +been foreseen, even the spot where the <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +John Dene explained that a month or five weeks must elapse before the +<I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +"When you've delivered the goods you can quit, and I shall be pleased +to see your boys again in four months." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene regarded his listeners with the air of a man who had just +thrown a bombshell and is conscious of the fact. +</P> + +<P> +"Four months!" ejaculated Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"Yep!" He uttered the monosyllable in a tone that convinced at least +one of his listeners that expostulation would be useless. +</P> + +<P> +"But," protested Sir Lyster, "how shall we know what is happening?" +</P> + +<P> +"You won't," was the laconic reply. +</P> + +<P> +"But——" began Sir Lyster again. +</P> + +<P> +"If no one knows what is happening," interrupted John Dene, "no one can +tell anyone else." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +There was an awkward pause. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But——" began Sir Lyster once more. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene paused, and the others looked at each other, a little +nonplussed how to respond to such directness. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +It was Sir Bridgman who eased the situation. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—certainly," said Sir Lyster with unconvincing hesitation. +</P> + +<P> +"You were mentioning spies," said Admiral Heyworth. +</P> + +<P> +"So would you if they'd plagued you as they've plagued me," said John +Dene. "They've already stolen three sets of plans." +</P> + +<P> +"Three sets of plans!" cried Sir Lyster, starting up in alarm. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Sir Lyster in alarm, "what is to be done?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I've got another three sets," said John Dene calmly. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster looked at him as if doubtful of his sanity. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman's laugh rang out as he thumped the table with his fist. +</P> + +<P> +"Splendid!" he cried. Sir Lyster sank back into his chair with a sigh +of relief. +</P> + +<P> +"By the way, Dene," said Sir Bridgman casually, "suppose the +<I>Destroyer</I> was—er—lost and you with her." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Good!" said Sir Bridgman. "You think of everything. We shall have +you commanding the Grand Fleet before the war's over."' +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster said nothing. He did not quite relish the qualification +"whoever he may be at the time." +</P> + +<P> +"About the spies," he said after a pause. "I think it would be +advisable to arrange for your protection." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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 <I>Destroyer</I> with no one butting in." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster nodded and made a note. +</P> + +<P> +"Next," continued John Dene, "I want a mothership fully equipped with +stores and fuel sufficient for four months." +</P> + +<P> +Again Sir Lyster inclined his head and made a note. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Something about you!" queried Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman laughed, Sir Lyster smiled indulgently, and Admiral +Heyworth rose to go. +</P> + +<P> +"There's only one thing more; I want a room here and someone to take +down letters." +</P> + +<P> +"I will tell my secretary to arrange everything," said Sir Lyster. +"You have only to ask for what you require, Mr. Dene." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's settled," said John Dene, rising. "Now it's up to me, +and if the <I>Destroyer</I> 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." +</P> + +<P> +As the door closed, the three men gazed at each other for a few seconds. +</P> + +<P> +"An original character," said Sir Lyster indulgently. "Going, +Heyworth?" he enquired, as Admiral Heyworth moved towards the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I've hardly touched the day's work yet," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind," said Sir Bridgman, "you've done the best day's work +you're likely to do during this war." +</P> + +<P> +"I think I agree with you," said Admiral Heyworth as he left the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Grayne, what do you think of our friend, John Dene?" inquired +Sir Bridgman as he lighted a cigarette. +</P> + +<P> +"He's rather abrupt," said Sir Lyster hesitatingly, "but I think he's a +sterling character." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! your incurable enthusiasm," smiled Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"What I like about him," remarked Sir Bridgman, "is that he never waits +to be contradicted." +</P> + +<P> +"He certainly does seem to take everything for granted," said Sir +Lyster, with a note of complaint in his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Now I want to consult you about a rather embarrassing question that's +on the paper for Friday," said Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"That's my fault," said John Dene, removing his hat. "I'm sorry." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; but our tea," said the girl in genuine consternation; "we're +rationed, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"Rationed?" said John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; we only get two ounces a week each," she said with a comical look +of despair. +</P> + +<P> +"Gee!" cried John Dene, then he asked suddenly: "What are you?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl looked at him in surprise, a little stiffly. +</P> + +<P> +"Can you type? Never mind about the tea." +</P> + +<P> +"But I do mind about the tea." She found John Dene's manner disarming. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Here!" he cried, "where can I buy a pound of tea?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't," said Sir Bridgman, at length, his eyes twinkling as he +watched the expression on Sir Lyster's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Can't!" cried John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"Tea's rationed—two ounces a week," explained Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"Anyhow I've got to buy a pound of tea. I've just smashed up the +teapot of a girl in the corridor." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid it's impossible," said Sir Lyster with quiet dignity. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"It's in the corridor," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! go and get it, there's a dear; I'm simply parched," cried Marjorie +Rogers, a pretty little brunette at the further corner. +</P> + +<P> +"It's all gone," said Dorothy West; "a Hun just knocked it out of my +hand. He smashed the teapot." +</P> + +<P> +"Smashed the teapot!" cried several girls in chorus. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Wessie," wailed the little brunette, "I shall die." +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you let him do it?" asked a fair girl with white eyelashes and +glasses. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who is he? What is he? Do tell us, Wessie, dear," cried Marjorie +Rogers excitedly. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll make enquiries," said Miss Cunliffe. "I'll see Mr. Blair. +Perhaps he's mad." +</P> + +<P> +"But what are we going to do about our tea?" wailed Marjorie. "I'd +sooner lose my character than my tea." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe she did it on purpose," said she of the white eyelashes +spitefully to a girl in a velvet blouse. +</P> + +<P> +"You had better brew to-morrow's tea to-day, Miss West," said Miss +Cunliffe. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +And Dorothy West went out to interview the guardian of No. 13's teapot. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DEPARTMENT Z. +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H4> + +<P> +"Mr. Sage there? Very well, ask him to step in and see me as soon as +he returns." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +For a few moments Mr. Llewellyn John had pondered the remark, and then +asked for an explanation. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid they wouldn't endorse that doctrine at Scotland Yard," +smiled Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"Scotland Yard is a place of promoted policemen," replied Sage, +"regulation intellects in regulation boots." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Go on," Mr. Llewellyn John had said, seeing that Sage paused and was +intently regarding his finger-nails of his right hand. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I believe you're right," said Mr. Llewellyn John. "If you can +convince Colonel Walton, then Department Z. can be run on those lines." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Twice they've ransacked John Dene's room at the Ritzton and found +nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"Does he know?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Sage nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"John Dene's a dark horse," he remarked with respect in his voice, "and +the Huns can't make up their minds." +</P> + +<P> +"To what?" enquired the chief. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded comprehendingly. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +For some moments the two men smoked in silence, which was finally +broken by Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"They'll try to get hold of John Dene, unless he's very careful, and +hold him to ransom, the price being the plans." +</P> + +<P> +"Incidentally, Sage, where did you get all this from?" enquired Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Sage gazed at his chief through his gold-rimmed spectacles. "About +three hundred yards west of the Temple Station on the Underground." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton glanced across at his subordinate; but refrained from +asking further questions. "Have you warned Dene?" he enquired instead. +</P> + +<P> +"No use," replied Sage with conviction. "Might as well warn a fly." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded understandingly. "Still," he remarked, "I think +he ought to be told." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not have a try yourself?" Sage looked up swiftly from the +inevitable contemplation of his finger-nails. +</P> + +<P> +For fully a minute Colonel Walton sat revolving the proposal in his +mind. "I think I will," he said later. +</P> + +<P> +"He'll treat you like a superannuated policeman," was the grim retort. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Was the John Dene Report what you wanted, sir?" enquired Colonel +Walton, as he took the seat Mr. Llewellyn John indicated. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"And when may we expect Mr. Dene's new submarine over?" enquired +Malcolm Sage casually. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"What on earth do you know about it?" demanded Mr. Llewellyn John, +looking at Sage with a startled expression. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John gazed in bewilderment at Malcolm Sage, his eyes +shifted to Colonel Walton and then back again to Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"But," he began, "you're watching us, not the enemy. Did you know of +this?" he turned to the chief of Department Z. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton shook his head. "I haven't seen Sage since you +telephoned yesterday until a few minutes ago," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Where—how——?" Mr. Llewellyn John paused. +</P> + +<P> +"It's our business to know things, sir," was Sage's quiet reply. +</P> + +<P> +"And yet you didn't report this to——" began Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"It saves time telling you both at once," responded Sage, looking at +his chief with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose you tell us how you found out," suggested Mr. Llewellyn John a +little irritably. +</P> + +<P> +"Does that matter, sir?" Sage looked up calmly from an earnest +examination of the nail of his left forefinger. +</P> + +<P> +For some moments Mr. Llewellyn John gazed across at Malcolm Sage, +frowning heavily. +</P> + +<P> +"Sage has his own methods," remarked Colonel Walton tactfully. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"There are one or two links missing," said Sage. "I want to know where +and when the <I>Destroyer</I> will arrive, and what steps you are taking in +regard to John Dene." +</P> + +<P> +"All arrangements will be left in Mr. Dene's hands. He is——" Mr. +Lewellyn John paused. +</P> + +<P> +"A little self-willed," suggested Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"Self-willed!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John. "He is a dictator in +embryo." +</P> + +<P> +"He happens also to be a patriot," said Sage quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait until you meet him," said the Prime Minister grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"And we are to see the thing through?" interrogated Colonel Walton, as +Mr. Llewellyn John rose. "There won't be any——" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I know," said Sage, as he followed his chief towards the door. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"You have rather——" began Colonel Walton, but he stopped short. Sage +suddenly knocked him roughly with his elbow. +</P> + +<P> +"I have never seen the Mons Star," he said. "Can we go round by +Whitehall? The Horse Guards sentries, I believe, wear it." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Seated once more one on either side of Colonel Walton's table, Sage +proceeded to light his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +"Clever, wasn't it?" he asked. "She's fairly new, too." +</P> + +<P> +"Who was she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Vera Ellerton, employed as a Temporary Ministry typist," Sage replied +drily. +</P> + +<P> +"So that was it," remarked Colonel Walton, cutting the end of a cigar +with great deliberation. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think she knew who we were?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"They must have learned quite a deal about numismatics," said Colonel +Walton drily. +</P> + +<P> +"A constitutional government is a great obstacle to an efficient Secret +Service, it imposes limitations," remarked Sage regretfully. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton looked across in the act of lighting his cigar. +</P> + +<P> +"There are six hundred and seventy of them at Westminster. In war-time +we require a system of the <I>lettre-de-cachêt</I>. 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." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded and Malcolm Sage took his departure. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H4> + +<P> +"It's curious." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"How many false calls did you say?" enquired Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"Nine in five days, sir," was the response. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage nodded his head several times, his eyes still fixed on the +papers before him. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you make of it, Thompson?" Malcolm Sage looked up in that +sudden way of his, which many found so disconcerting. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," was the response. "It's a bit of a puzzle," he added. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Very good, sir;" and the man took his departure. +</P> + +<P> +A minute later the telephone bell rang. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +A quarter of an hour later Special Service Officer Thompson entered +with a long list of figures, which he handed to Malcolm Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"You've hit it, Thompson," said Sage, glancing swiftly down the list. +</P> + +<P> +"Have I, sir?" said Thompson, not quite sure what it was he was +supposed to have hit. +</P> + +<P> +"They are——" +</P> + +<P> +At that moment the telephone bell rang. Malcolm Sage put the receiver +to his ear. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Vanity, Thompson, is at the root of all error." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir, said Thompson dutifully. +</P> + +<P> +"Those figures," continued Sage, "are times, not numbers." +</P> + +<P> +With a quick indrawing of breath, which with Thompson always indicated +excitement, he reached across for the list, his eyes glinting. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Thompson produced a note-book and hastily scribbled a memorandum. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," said Thompson respectfully. It was an understood thing at +Department Z. that these little homilies should be listened to with +deference. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"That is so, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"We mustn't get like that in Department Z., Thompson." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +GINGERING-UP THE ADMIRALTY +</H4> + +<P> +"Boss in?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair started violently; he had not heard John Dene enter his room. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +As he continued to gaze at the door, it suddenly opened and John Dene's +head appeared. +</P> + +<P> +"Say," he cried, "if that yellow-headed girl comes, send her right in," +and the door closed with a bang. +</P> + +<P> +Inwardly Mr. Blair gasped; it was not customary for yellow-haired girls +to be sent in to see the First Lord. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Presently he disinterred from a mass of paper wound round it in every +conceivable way, a large white, pink and gold teapot. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster gazed from the teapot, terrifying in the crudeness of its +shape and design, to John Dene and back again to the teapot. +</P> + +<P> +"Like it?" asked John Dene, as he looked admiringly at his purchase. +"Ought to cheer those girls up some." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster continued to gaze at the teapot as if fascinated. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"In here," repeated Sir Lyster, unwilling to believe his ears. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +As he did so Mr. Blair entered and closed the door behind him. He was +obviously embarrassed. +</P> + +<P> +"A young person——" he began. +</P> + +<P> +"Send her right in," cried John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"It's very kind of you," she said, "but there wasn't a pound of tea in +the teapot you broke yesterday, and—and——" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +The girl nodded her head. +</P> + +<P> +"Speeds?" enquired John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"A hundred and twenty——" was the response. +</P> + +<P> +"Typing?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sixty-five words——" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll do," said John Dene with decision. "In future you'll do my +work only. Nine o'clock, every morning." +</P> + +<P> +The girl looked enquiringly at Sir Lyster, who coughed slightly. +</P> + +<P> +"We will take up your references, Miss—er——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! cut it out," said John Dene impatiently, "I don't want references." +</P> + +<P> +"But," replied Sir Lyster, "this is work of a confidential nature.". +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I think it will be necessary to take up references," began Sir Lyster +as John Dene closed the door on Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I>. 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. +</P> + +<P> +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?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair gazed at him, mild surprise in his prominent eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid I don't—I cannot——" he began. +</P> + +<P> +"Neither can I," said John Dene. "You're all just about as cute as +dead weasels." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene walked along the corridor and down the staircase in high +dudgeon. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha! Mr. Dene, what's happened?" enquired Sir Bridgman, who was +mounting the stairs as John Dene descended. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been wondering how it is the British Empire has hung together as +long as it has," was the response. +</P> + +<P> +"What have we been doing now?" enquired Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"It's my belief," remarked John Dene, "that in this country you +wouldn't engage a janitor without his great-grandmother's +birth-certificate." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid we are rather a prejudiced nation," said Sir Bridgman +genially. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman smiled as he slowly ascended the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose," he murmured, "we are in the process of being gingered-up." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," he called out. +</P> + +<P> +The door opened and Dorothy West entered, looking very pretty and +business-like with a note-book and pencil in her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Mornin', Miss West," he replied, gazing at her apparently without +seeing her. He was obviously thinking of something else. +</P> + +<P> +She seated herself beside his table and looked up, awaiting his signal +to begin the day's work. +</P> + +<P> +"There are some things in this country that get my goat," he remarked. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"There are quite a lot that get mine," she remarked demurely, as she +glanced up from her note-book. +</P> + +<P> +"A lot that get yours," he repeated, coming to a standstill and looking +down at her. +</P> + +<P> +"Things that get my goat." There was the slightest possible pause +between the "my" and the "goat." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, listen to this." He picked up the letter again and read: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"DEAR MR. DENE,— +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"Yours truly,<BR> + "REGINALD BLAIR."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But he's only carrying out Sir Lyster's instructions," suggested +Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Couldn't you wear a red beard and blue glasses and——" +</P> + +<P> +"What's that?" John Dene span round and fixed his eyes on the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"I mean disguise yourself," said Dorothy, dropping her eyes beneath his +gaze. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" The interrogation was rapped out in such a tone as to cause the +girl to shrink back slightly. +</P> + +<P> +"They wouldn't know and then it wouldn't——" she hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't what?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Get your goat," said Dorothy after a moment's hesitation. +</P> + +<P> +He continued to gaze intently at Dorothy, who was absorbed in a blank +page of her note-book. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, take this down;" and he proceeded to dictate. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"MY DEAR MR. BLAIR,— +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"With kind regards,<BR> + "Yours sincerely."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" he demanded, unaccustomed to having his orders questioned. +</P> + +<P> +"It sounds rather flippant, doesn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +John Dene smiled grimly, and as he made no further comment, Dorothy +struck out the letter from her note-book. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"And aren't you hungry as well, Mr. Dene?" she asked, as she closed her +note-book and rose. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"I go to a tea-shop," said Dorothy after a moment's hesitation. +</P> + +<P> +"And what do you eat?" demanded John Dene, with the air of a +cross-examining counsel. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, all sorts of things," she laughed; "buns and eggs and—and——" +</P> + +<P> +"That's no good," was the uncompromising rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better come with me and have a good meal," he said bluntly, +reaching for his hat. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy flushed. The implication was too obvious to be overlooked. +Drawing herself up slightly, and with her head a little thrown back, +she declined. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I have an engagement," she said coldly. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You've been hustling some," he remarked, as he returned the watch to +his pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"We've both been quick," said Dorothy, curious to know if John Dene had +been to lunch. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I stayed right here," he said, still gazing up at her. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy felt rebuked. He had evidently felt snubbed, she told herself, +and it was her fault that he had remained at work. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, Mr. Dene," she said, as she resumed her seat. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mind? Say right out if you'd hate it." There was a suspicion +of anxiety in his tone. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm here to do whatever you wish," she said with dignity. +</P> + +<P> +With a sudden movement John Dene sprang up and proceeded to pace up and +down the room. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, what's all this worth to you?" he blurted out. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy looked up in surprise, not grasping his meaning. +</P> + +<P> +"Worth to me?" she queried, her head on one side, the tip of her pencil +resting on her lower lip. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; what do they pay you?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm quite satisfied, thank you," she said, drawing herself up slightly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm not," he blurted out. "You're going to work well for me, +and you're going to be well paid." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I cannot accept it," she said firmly, "although it's very +kind of you," she added with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose I'm getting his goat," thought Dorothy, as she watched him +from beneath lowered lashes. +</P> + +<P> +"Why won't you take it?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I cannot accept presents," she said with what she thought a +disarming smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, shucks!" John Dene was annoyed. +</P> + +<P> +"If the Admiralty thought I was worth more than thirty-five shillings a +week, they would pay me more." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm not going to have anyone around that doesn't get a living +wage," he announced explosively. +</P> + +<P> +"Does that mean that I had better go?" she inquired calmly. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, what the hell do you mean by giving that girl only nine dollars +a week?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Nine dollars a week! What girl?" he stuttered, looking up weakly into +John Dene's angry eyes. "I—I——" +</P> + +<P> +"Miss West," was the retort. "She's getting nine dollars a week, less +than I pay an office boy in T'ronto." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it ought to be," snapped John Dene, just as Sir Bridgman North +came out of Sir Lyster's room. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, Mr. Dene," he cried genially. "What are you doing to +poor Blair?" +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I've fixed it," announced John Dene, as he burst in upon Dorothy's day +dream. "You'll get twenty dollars in future." +</P> + +<P> +She looked up quickly. "You're very kind, Mr. Dene," she said, "but is +it—is it——?" she hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"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!" +</P> + +<P> +The tone in which the last sentence was uttered brought a slight flush +to Dorothy's cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's the bear, Wessie?" she enquired, keeping a weather eye on the +door in case John Dene should return. +</P> + +<P> +"Gone out to buy bear-biscuits," laughed Dorothy, leaning back in her +chair to get the kink out of her spine. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"He'll probably kill you if he catches you," said Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, if he comes I'm here to ask if you would like some tea," was the +airy reply. +</P> + +<P> +"You angel!" cried Dorothy. "I should love it." +</P> + +<P> +"Has he tried to kiss you yet?" demanded the girl, looking at Dorothy +searchingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be ridiculous," cried Dorothy, conscious that she was flushing. +</P> + +<P> +"I see he has," she said, regarding Dorothy judicially and nodding her +head wisely. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy re-started typing. It was absurd, she decided, to endeavour to +argue with this worldly child of Whitehall. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind what you wouldn't do, Brynhilda the Bold," said Dorothy, +"but concentrate on the woulds, and bring me the tea you promised." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't stop," she panted. "Old Goggles has been giving me the bird;" +and with that she was gone. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Is there anything more, Mr. Dene?" she enquired. She was conscious of +feeling inexpressibly weary. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said John Dene, without looking up. "You're coming out to have +some dinner." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I can't, thank you," she said. "My mother is waiting." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh shucks!" he cried, looking up quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"But it isn't!" she said wearily. +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't what?" demanded John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"Shucks!" she said; then, seeing the absurdity of the thing, she +laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"But where are you taking me, Mr. Dene?" enquired Dorothy, as they +turned from Waterloo Place into Pall Mall. +</P> + +<P> +"To the Ritzton." +</P> + +<P> +"But I'm—I'm——" she stopped dead. +</P> + +<P> +"What's wrong?" he demanded, looking at her in surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I can't go there," she stammered. "I'm not dressed for——" She +broke off lamely. +</P> + +<P> +"That'll be all right," he said. "It's my hotel." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Who'll stare at you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not at me, at my clothes," she corrected. +</P> + +<P> +"Then we'll go to the grill-room," he replied with inspiration. +</P> + +<P> +"That might be——" She hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"You're not going home until you have something to eat," he announced +with determination. "You look all used up," he added. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Why sure," he said solicitously. "I'm sorry." +</P> + +<P> +To her infinite relief he hailed a taxi. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll come along and see you safe," he announced in a matter-of-fact +tone. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, please no," she cried, "I'd much sooner——" She broke off +distressed. +</P> + +<P> +Without a word he handed her into the taxi. +</P> + +<P> +"Where am I to tell him?" he enquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Douglas Mansions, Chiswick, please," gasped Dorothy, and she sank back +in the taxi with a feeling that she had behaved very ridiculously. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN DENE LEAVES WHITEHALL +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H4> + +<P> +"Come," shouted John Dene irritably. +</P> + +<P> +The door opened and Mr. Blair entered. John Dene swung round from his +table and glared at him angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"I tried to telephone," began Mr. Blair. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you can't," snapped John Dene, "receiver's off. Your boys have +been playing dido all morning on my 'phone." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry if——" +</P> + +<P> +"That don't help any. Why don't you stop 'em? Seem to think I'm a +sort of enquiry bureau." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy bent low over her notes to hide the smile she could not +restrain at the sight of the obvious wretchedness of Mr. Blair. +</P> + +<P> +"Sir Lyster would like you to step round——" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I won't; tell him that," was the irascible reply. +</P> + +<P> +"He wants you to meet Sir Harold Winn, the chief naval constructor," +explained Mr. Blair. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell him to go to blazes and take his constructions with him. Now +vamoose." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair hesitated, glanced at John Dene, seemed about to speak, then +evidently thinking better of it withdrew, closing the door noiselessly +behind him. +</P> + +<P> +As John Dene swung round once more to his table, he caught Dorothy's +eye. She smiled. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +All the day he had shown marked irritability under the constant +interruptions to which he had been subjected. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Oo—er!" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Is—is—Miss West here?" she enquired timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, come right in," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was surprised at the change produced by the appearance of +Marjorie Rogers. +</P> + +<P> +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: +</P> + +<P> +"I—I came to ask Miss West if she would like some tea." She smiled up +at John Dene, a picture of guileless innocence. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry if I scared you," he said awkwardly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you didn't frighten me," she said, regaining confidence at the +sight of John Dene's embarrassment. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps Mr. Dene would like a cup of tea too, Rojjie," suggested +Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, would you?" cried the girl eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, sure," said John Dene and he smiled, for the first time that day, +Dorothy mentally noted. +</P> + +<P> +In a flash Marjorie disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm—I'm sorry," said John Dene to Dorothy. "I didn't know she was a +friend of yours." +</P> + +<P> +"She's in the room I used to be in, and—she's very sweet and brings me +tea." +</P> + +<P> +He nodded comprehendingly. "They do a lot of that here, don't they?" +</P> + +<P> +"A lot of what?" asked Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Drinking tea." +</P> + +<P> +"We only have it in the afternoon, and——" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy gasped at the sight of the three cups, wondering what John Dene +would think. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Perching herself upon the corner of John Dene's table, Marjorie chatted +brightly, having apparently quite overcome her fears. +</P> + +<P> +"You know, Mr. Dene," she said, "we're all dreadfully intrigued about +you." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene looked at her with a puzzled expression. +</P> + +<P> +"All the other girls are terribly afraid of you," she continued. "I'm +not." +</P> + +<P> +"Of me?" He looked at her in surprise, as if he regarded himself as +the last person in the world to inspire fear. +</P> + +<P> +"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.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Rojjie!" gasped Dorothy in horror. +</P> + +<P> +"The bear?" repeated John Dene. "Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene glanced across at Dorothy, as if unable quite to classify the +girl before him. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course they don't know that you can smile like that," added +Marjorie. +</P> + +<P> +John Dene was about to make some remark when there came another knock. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment the two regarded the scene, Sir Lyster having recourse to +his monocle. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid we've interrupted you, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the one thing they do well in this shack," was John Dene's +uncompromising retort. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster gazed a little anxiously at his companion. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to introduce you to Sir Harold Winn," said Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"Pleased to meet you," said John Dene, shaking Sir Harold vigorously by +the hand. "Take a seat." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman laughed loudly, as much at the expression on Sir Lyster's +face as at the occurrence itself. +</P> + +<P> +"Such incidents," said Sir Lyster, "are, I think, very undesirable." +</P> + +<P> +"It looks as if John Dene were a dark horse," suggested Sir Bridgman. +"Was the other girl pretty?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But I'm afraid it may create a scandal," said Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"It was about four o'clock when Winn and I——" +</P> + +<P> +"Right," said Sir Bridgman, "I'll drop in about that time to-morrow and +see what's doing," and the door closed behind him. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +With a celerity that had rather surprised John Dene the telephone had +been connected and a private wire run through to the Admiralty. +</P> + +<P> +"The thing about a Britisher," he remarked to Dorothy, "is that he can +hustle, but won't." +</P> + +<P> +She allowed the remark to pass unchallenged. +</P> + +<P> +"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 <I>Destroyer</I> had to be prepared, the +details of the structural alterations to the <I>Toronto</I>, the name given +to the mother-ship that was to act as tender to the <I>Destroyer</I>, +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. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy came to look forward to these dainty meals, which she could +order with unstinted hand, and she liked the tête-à-tête 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 <I>Destroyer</I>. He seemed to take it for granted that she could +be trusted to keep her own counsel. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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 à l'Americaine. +</P> + +<P> +"Typists don't eat lobster à l'Americaine in England, Mr. Dene," she +had replied. "It's too expensive." +</P> + +<P> +Whereupon he had told her to ring up the Ritzton and order lobster à +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps it's the ravens," murmured Dorothy to herself. +</P> + +<P> +At twelve o'clock a waiter entered with a tray. At the sound of his +knock, John Dene revolved round in his chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, where do you come from?" he demanded, glaring as if he suspected +the man of being of German parentage. +</P> + +<P> +The man started violently and nearly dropped the tray. +</P> + +<P> +"I obey orders," he stammered. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; but whose orders?" +</P> + +<P> +For a moment the man hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you come from the Ritzton?" demanded John Dene aggressively. +</P> + +<P> +"I obey orders," repeated the man. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, what the hell's all this about my meals?" John Dene seemed to +take a delight in descending upon Sir Lyster's secretary. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair turned towards him with that expression he seemed to keep +expressly for John Dene. "Your meals," he stammered. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid that I know nothing of this," said Mr. Blair, "but I will +enquire." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H4> + +<P> +"Shucks!" cried John Dene irritably. "You make me tired." +</P> + +<P> +"I doubt if you appreciate the seriousness of the situation," was +Colonel Walton's quiet retort. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton smiled indulgently, Dorothy kept her eyes upon her +note-book. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"It's the insidious rather than the overt act," began Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"The what?" John Dene looked at him with a puzzled expression. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +John Dene stared at him as if not quite sure of his sanity. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you will open those packets." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"This some of your funny work?" demanded John Dene angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"There's still the other parcel," said Colonel Walton, his eyes upon +the small roll done up in newspaper. +</P> + +<P> +Very gingerly John Dene unrolled the paper, Dorothy watching from a +safe distance with wide-eyed curiosity. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"There; but for the grace of God lies John Dene of Toronto," he +remarked quietly, nodding in the direction of the two rodents. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, what the hell——!" began John Dene, then catching sight of +Dorothy he stopped suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy gave a little cry of horror. John Dene looked across at her +quickly, then back to Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"You mean——" he began. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Raid-nights!" +</P> + +<P> +"You might be knocked on the head and removed as a casualty." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene nodded, Dorothy gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"And what about a nurse?" demanded John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy drew herself up stiffly. +</P> + +<P> +"During the last few days," continued Colonel Walton, "a number of +attempts have been made by women as well as men." +</P> + +<P> +"How did you know?" she cried in surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Make no acquaintances at all, Miss West," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll remember," she said, nodding her head with decision. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"What's that?" +</P> + +<P> +"We should not like anything to happen to Miss West." +</P> + +<P> +To Colonel Walton's "Good-day" John Dene made no response, he seemed +unaware that he had left the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Gee!" he muttered at length, then swinging round to Dorothy with a +suddenness that caused her to start, "You had better vamoose," he cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Vam——" she began. "How do I do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Quit, clear out of here." He sprang from his chair and proceeded to +pace up and down the room. +</P> + +<P> +"Does that mean that I'm discharged?" she enquired, smiling. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Shall we get on with the letters, Mr. Dene?" said Dorothy quietly. +"Father was a soldier." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MR. MONTAGU NAYLOR OF STREATHAM +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +The outbreak of war in August, 1914, was responsible for two changes in +the Naylor ménage. 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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>The Streatham Herald</I> notifying this splendid act of +citizenship. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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?" +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't heard the post-woman yet," faltered Mrs. Naylor +apologetically. She was at heart a pacifist in the domestic sense. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"They were on the path," she explained timidly. "James is in the +garden." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop that dog," he shouted, whereat Mrs. Naylor rose and left the room. +</P> + +<P> +With scowling eyebrows Mr. Naylor read his letter, and ground his teeth +with suppressed fury. +</P> + +<P> +"Der mann muss verrückt 'sein." +</P> + +<P> +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!" +</P> + +<P> +As Mrs. Naylor entered with obvious trepidation, he fixed her with a +stern disapproving eye. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +The letter which was typewritten, even to the signature, ran: +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +'DEAR MR. NAYLOR,— +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +"Yours very truly,<BR> + "J. VAN HELDER."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MR. NAYLOR RECEIVES A VISITOR +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H4> + +<P> +"Height five feet six and a half inches." +</P> + +<P> +"Five feet eight, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Chest thirty-eight." +</P> + +<P> +"Thirty-eight and a half, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Weight eleven stone nine." +</P> + +<P> +"Twelve stone, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Near enough." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," replied Thompson. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got everything?" +</P> + +<P> +"Down to his under-wear, sir," was the response. +</P> + +<P> +"The ring?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," he said, "Finlay can do it." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I hear Finlay's here," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Sage looked up and nodded. "We've just been checking his +measurements," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"With that Bergen fellow's?" +</P> + +<P> +Sage nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a considerable risk," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"Finlay likes 'em," retorted Sage without looking up. "I'd give a good +deal to solve that little mystery." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Finlay?" asked Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"He's painting the lily," said Sage with a glint in his eye. +</P> + +<P> +"In other words?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"Seeing how near he can get to this Bergen fellow. I took him down to +the Tower to see the men together." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You remember the lost code-book?" Sage queried. +</P> + +<P> +"I do," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"And the black eye, sir," interpolated Thompson. +</P> + +<P> +"That was certainly a happy stroke," cried Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"It takes a good deal of moral courage to black your own eye," said +Sage quietly. "I tried it once myself." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you plan to proceed?" It was Colonel Walton who spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"The risk will be mainly Finlay's," said Colonel Walton drily, as he +smoked meditatively. +</P> + +<P> +"It would be yours or mine, chief, only nature cast us in a different +mould." +</P> + +<P> +For some moments Colonel Walton did not reply. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like sending a man on a——" He paused. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't quite like it, Sage." Colonel Walton knitted his brows. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Thompson gave an appreciative grin. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton looked across at him interrogatingly. +</P> + +<P> +"You remember the initials inside, chief?" +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"D.U.A. weren't they?" +</P> + +<P> +"What about Deutsches über alles?" +</P> + +<P> +"A bit obvious," suggested Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"The Hun always is." +</P> + +<P> +There was a knock at the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Come in," called Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage caught Colonel Walton's eye. Upon Thompson's face there +spread a grin of admiration. +</P> + +<P> +"Wonderful, Finlay," said Colonel Walton. "Wonderful." +</P> + +<P> +"You think it is like?" enquired he who had been addressed as Finlay. +</P> + +<P> +"Wonderful," repeated Colonel Walton, "but," he added a moment after, +"it's a dangerous game." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"He'll put you to sleep if you make a mistake," said Sage with +uncompromising candour. +</P> + +<P> +Again the shrug of the shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know," said Finlay with the finnicking inflection of one +talking in a strange tongue. +</P> + +<P> +"What about Deutsches über alles?" suggested Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! you have discovered." +</P> + +<P> +"Perfect," said Sage, "absolutely perfect. You're a genius, Finlay." +</P> + +<P> +With a smile and a half-shrug of his shoulders, Finlay deprecated the +compliment. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you going to stay?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"At the Ritzton with John Dene, same floor if possible," said Sage. +"He starts from the Tower to-morrow. Released, you know." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. "By the way, Thompson, you didn't happen to +drop any finger prints about in Waterloo Place?" +</P> + +<P> +"Rubber gloves, sir," said Thompson with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"It would embarrass us a bit if you got lodged in Brixton prison," said +Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"No chance of that, sir," was the confident retort. +</P> + +<P> +"The account will be in the papers this afternoon, I understand." +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Gott in himmel!" cried Finlay in such tragic consternation, that both +Colonel Walton and Sage were forced to smile. +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir," said Sage drily, "we must guard Department Z. against the +Order of the British Empire; it deserves well of the country. +</P> + +<P> +"When does he go to Streatham?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"I go now," responded Finlay, "if I find the place. These suburbs!" +He rolled his eyes expressively. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage smiled grimly. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Van Helder?" he queried, as he shook hands and motioned his +visitor to a seat. +</P> + +<P> +"We shall not be overheard, no?" interrogated Van Helder. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"The 21st," repeated Mr. Naylor. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"So you have been in London since the 21st." Mr. Naylor's tone was +casual; but his eyes glinted. +</P> + +<P> +Van Helder nodded indifferently. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you staying?" Mr. Naylor's eyes never left his visitor's +face. +</P> + +<P> +"At the Ritzton." +</P> + +<P> +"You have been comfortable?" The tone was conversational. +</P> + +<P> +Again Van Helder shrugged his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"You have been seeing the sights?" Again the tone was casual; but in +Mr. Naylor's eyes there was a crafty look. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"James does not like strangers." This with a sinister smile. +</P> + +<P> +"No?" continued the other; taking a cigarette-case from his pocket and +offering it to Mr. Naylor who declined. "I may smoke?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Naylor nodded. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You are becoming, how do you call it, ungeschickt," he said with a +disarming smile, as he blew three rings in rapid succession. +</P> + +<P> +"You think so?" Mr. Naylor smiled amiably. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"And you came here?" f Mr. Naylor's voice was even and devoid of +inflection. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"They are not my initials," said Van Helder. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Naylor looked up quickly. "No," he said, returning the ring. +</P> + +<P> +The other shrugged his shoulders without replying. Mr. Naylor's manner +had undergone a change. +</P> + +<P> +"And now about John Dene. Ah!" as one smoke-ring passed through +another. +</P> + +<P> +"John Dene!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, of Toronto," continued Van Helder, smiling and continuing to blow +rings with apparent enjoyment. "He is staying at the Ritzton, too." +</P> + +<P> +"London is full of visitors." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +For fully a minute Naylor gazed at him quietly, searchingly. +</P> + +<P> +"There was then the chocolates and the girl." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not understand." Mr. Naylor looked across at him craftily. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +The contemptuous insolence of his visitor seemed to impress Mr. Naylor. +The look of suspicion in his eyes became less marked. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you know?" he asked, still wary. +</P> + +<P> +"We waste time," was the response with a wave of the hand. +</P> + +<P> +For a few moments Mr. Naylor sat watching Van Helder as he continued to +blow rings with manifest content. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Given it!" involuntarily repeated Mr. Naylor. +</P> + +<P> +"Given it. There are patriots even in England. You think he is trying +to sell it, therefore you try to remove him." +</P> + +<P> +"Not selling it." Mr. Naylor leaned slightly forward. +</P> + +<P> +"He gives it on condition that he commands it with his own men. It +makes easy the matter." +</P> + +<P> +"Then it is true what——" Mr. Naylor stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you learn this?" He slobbered his words slightly as he spoke. +</P> + +<P> +"I know things, it is my duty," was the response. +</P> + +<P> +"But what proof——?" +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"How did you get it?" +</P> + +<P> +Van Helder smiled. "How did you get the copy?" he enquired. +</P> + +<P> +"The copy! How did you know?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Naylor stared at him, his jaw a little dropped. He swallowed +noisily. +</P> + +<P> +"You have been clumsy," repeated Van Helder. "You try to kill the cock +that lays the eggs of gold." He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Naylor flushed angrily. "And you?" he almost snarled. +</P> + +<P> +"I am here to watch." He looked across at Mr. Naylor with a cunning +smile. He was at last sure of his ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Watch who?" +</P> + +<P> +Van Helder shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded to light a new +cigarette from the burning end of the old one. +</P> + +<P> +"You must not kill—yet," he said, gazing at the end of his cigarette +to see that it was well alight. +</P> + +<P> +"What then?" demanded Mr. Naylor. His jowls had returned and the +yellow of his teeth was visible between his slightly parted lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait and watch," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"And let him go North," sneered the other. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DOROTHY WEST AT HOME +</H4> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" cried Mrs. West, a tiny white-haired lady whose face still +retained traces of youthful beauty. +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't be shocked, lovie; John Dene is as worthy as his namesake +in <I>Evangeline</I>." 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. +</P> + +<P> +For some minutes she watched with a smile of approval her daughter's +healthy appetite. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you funny little mother!" she laughed. "You forget that we have +come down in the world, and that I'm a typist." +</P> + +<P> +"A secretary, dear," corrected Mrs. West gently. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"His goat, dear!" Mrs. West looked up with a puzzled expression. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"A man, my dear," questioned Mrs. West, looking at her daughter with a +smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, mother, he's so intensely masculine. I get so fed up with——" +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" expostulated Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But think of how they have given their lives," began Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy caught her mother's eye, and laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course it sounds utterly ridiculous I know; but there it is, and +then think of what——" She suddenly broke off. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear," said Mrs. West gently. +</P> + +<P> +"I was nearly letting out official secrets, mother. Of course I +mustn't do that, must I?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not, dear," said Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" There was horror in Mrs. West's voice. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Your language, my dear," said Mrs. West gently. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled vaguely, finding it a little difficult to follow her +daughter along these paths of ultra-modernism. +</P> + +<P> +"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.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Says what, Dorothy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Shucks!" she repeated with a laugh, "it means go to—well, you know, +mother." +</P> + +<P> +"And does he say that to Sir Lyster?" enquired Mrs. West in awe-struck +voice. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy nodded vigorously. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But why do——" began Mrs. West, "why does Sir Lyster allow——" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Any what?" asked Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy, you mustn't call him 'John Dene." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But he isn't a bear, is he, Dorothy?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not so sure that they're wrong, either," she added naïvely. "You +see, he's got plenty of money and——" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like to hear you talk like that, dear," said Mrs. West gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"All right, mother dear, I won't; you know my bark is worse than my +bite, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but dear——" +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy, you are very naughty." There was no rebuke in Mrs. West's +voice. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West merely smiled the indulgent smile that Dorothy always +interpreted into forgiveness for her lapses, past, present and to come. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid he must be very narrow-minded," said Mrs. West gently. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you mean, Dorothy?" enquired Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"How impertinent of her!" Mrs. West was shocked. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy, you are——" began Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you wouldn't talk like that, dear," said Mrs. West, as she +regarded her daughter's pretty features. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, mother?" she enquired, bending and brushing a swift kiss upon her +mother's white hair. +</P> + +<P> +"It—it doesn't seem——" she paused, then added rather weakly, "it +doesn't seem quite nice." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy jumped up and stood before her mother, smiling mischievously. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"But you mustn't say such—such things," protested Mrs. West weakly. +</P> + +<P> +"But, mother, when you were a girl and knew a nice man, didn't you want +him to kiss you?" +</P> + +<P> +"We never thought about such things. We——" +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't you want father to kiss you?" persisted Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"We were engaged, my dear, and your dear father was so——" +</P> + +<P> +"But before you were engaged. Suppose father had tried to kiss you. +What would you have done?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl's eyes were on her mother, mischievous and challenging. A +faint blush tinged Mrs. West's cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West sighed, conscious that a new age of womanhood had dawned with +which she was out of touch. +</P> + +<P> +"Mother," said Dorothy presently, "what made you love father?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West looked up in surprise at her daughter, but continued to fold +her napkin and place it in her ring before replying. +</P> + +<P> +"Because your father, Dorothy, was——" she hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"My father," suggested Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled; but there was a far-away look in her eyes. +"Everybody loved your father," she went on a moment later. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, mother, but everybody didn't marry him," she said practically. +</P> + +<P> +"Noooo——" hesitated Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"But you mean to say that everybody would have liked to marry him." +</P> + +<P> +"He was very wonderful," said Mrs. West, a note of sadness creeping +into her voice. +</P> + +<P> +"But you haven't answered my question," persisted Dorothy. "Why is it +that we women love men?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West was not conscious of the quaint phrasing of her daughter's +remark. +</P> + +<P> +"We don't love men, Dorothy," she cried, "we love a man, the right man." +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's natural to fall in love," said Mrs. West gently. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a question of class," said Mrs. West a little primly. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"But you wouldn't, dear," said Mrs. West with gentle conviction. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" broke in Mrs. West in a tone of shocked protest. +</P> + +<P> +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?" +</P> + +<P> +"Hush! Dorothy, you mustn't say such things." There was pain in Mrs. +West's voice. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I have always regretted," began Mrs. West sadly. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"Goodness, honour and——" began Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"No, it isn't," said Dorothy, "at least they don't attract me." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West looked pained but said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"But——" began Mrs. West. "You wouldn't——" +</P> + +<P> +Then she paused. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't explain it, mother," she said, "but I should hate to be doing +the same thing always." +</P> + +<P> +"But we are doing the same things always, Dorothy," said Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West looked down with a puzzled expression on her face. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I don't know," faltered Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"A widow!" questioned Mrs. West. "What are you talking about?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DEPARTMENT Z. AT WORK +</H4> + +<P> +"Naylor isn't satisfied then." Colonel Walton glanced across at +Malcolm Sage, who was gazing appreciatively at his long, lender fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I expected that," said Colonel Walton, engrossed in cutting the end of +a cigar. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm rather concerned about Finlay," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course he knows?" +</P> + +<P> +"That he's being watched? Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Who's looking after him?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a pity," said Colonel Walton, gazing at the end of his cigar. +"He's a better man than Hoyle." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"How about John Dene?" +</P> + +<P> +"He's not taking any risks," said Sage, as he applied a match to his +pipe. "But they'll never let him go north." +</P> + +<P> +"Then we must prevent him." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid it'll force our hand," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"That was Sir Lyster." +</P> + +<P> +"It made Naylor suspicious." +</P> + +<P> +"Has Finlay seen him since?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not try the taxi?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've had Rogers following him round all the time; but Finlay hasn't +once taken a taxi." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid he's taking a big risk——" began Colonel Walton. "That +Naylor fellow——" He paused. +</P> + +<P> +Sage nodded. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +This method had the additional advantage of enabling the Department to +assure itself that the watchers were not in turn being watched. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Still I should prefer that it didn't happen," Colonel Walton had said +drily. "You know the Skipper hates questions in the House." +</P> + +<P> +"By the way," said Malcolm Sage to Colonel Walton one day, "Thompson +sent in an interesting report this morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Naylor?" queried Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Or——?" interrogated Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage merely shrugged his shoulders as he proceeded to dig the +ashes out of his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +It soon became evident to Malcolm Sage that John Dene realised how +great was the danger by which he was threatened. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Has he linked up with Naylor yet?" +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a great game played slow, Gladys," Thompson remarked one day to +Gladys Norman as they sat waiting for Malcolm Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"Slow," cried the girl. "If this is slow, what's fast?" +</P> + +<P> +"Her initials are G. N.," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage entered at the moment when Gladys had succeeded in making +her colleague's hair look like that of an Australian aborigine. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN DENE GOES TO KEW +</H4> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled what Dorothy called her "Saturday afternoon smile." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I do?" she demanded impudently. "I've put on my very best, +undies and all." +</P> + +<P> +"But why, Dorothy?" began Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I just wanted to feel best to-day. I wonder if John Dene notices +legs, mother," she added inconsequently. +</P> + +<P> +"Really, Dorothy!" began Mrs. West, with widening eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you wouldn't use such expressions," protested Mrs. West gently, +"and—and——" She stopped and looked appealingly at her daughter. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"But why, mother?" persisted Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"It's—it's not quite nice." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, mine are, anyway," said Dorothy with a little grimace. "Now we +must be off." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West merely sighed, the sigh of one who fails to understand. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Dorothy! I wish you wouldn't say such dreadful things," protested +Mrs. West in genuine distress. +</P> + +<P> +Slipping her arm through her mother's, the girl squeezed it to her side. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"But suppose anyone heard you, dear, what would they think?" There was +genuine concern in Mrs. West's voice. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West sighed once more; she had learned that it was useless to +protest when her daughter was in her present mood. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Presently they seated themselves by the broad walk leading to the large +tropical greenhouse, and gazed idly at the stream of passers-by. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I were a girl bird," said Dorothy dreamily, as she listened to +the outpourings of a blackbird fluting from a neighbouring tree. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled. She was very happy. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West did not speak; she was gazing with interest at the +approaching figure. +</P> + +<P> +"Mother dear, do you think you could faint?" Dorothy's eyes were +shining with excitement. +</P> + +<P> +"Faint!" echoed Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Hush, dear, he might hear what you are saying," said Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, I found my way," he said to Dorothy when she had introduced +him to her mother, and for some reason she blushed. +</P> + +<P> +"We often come here," said Dorothy lamely, conscious that her mother's +eyes were upon her. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you have parks, though," said Mrs. West conversationally. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," he replied; "but this is way beyond anything we've got." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't think it wants gingering-up then, Mr. Dene," asked Dorothy +demurely. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"You must all feel delightfully free," murmured Mrs. West tactfully. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy giggled; but John Dene seemed to see nothing strange in the +simile. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +She broke off and began to poke holes in the gravel with the point of +her sunshade. +</P> + +<P> +"And what?" he demanded peremptorily. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we're not all so clever," she concluded, angry to feel herself +flushing again. "Oh——" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You like them?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the retreating +infant. +</P> + +<P> +"I love them," she said softly, with a dreamy look. Then catching John +Dene's eye she blushed, and John Dene smiled. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, does this bother you any?" he enquired presently of Mrs. West, +indicating the cigar from which he was puffing clouds of smoke. +</P> + +<P> +"Not at all," said Mrs. West, striving to keep from choking. "I—I +like smoke." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"But you like England, Mr. Dene?" asked Mrs. West by way of bridging +the slight gulf that Dorothy's giggle had caused. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"And don't you think we want to win the war, Mr. Dene?" asked Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, some of those dancing lizards up at the Admiralty have a funny +way of showing it," was the grim rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West shook her head, with a smile that seemed to say it was not +for her to suggest what First Lords talked of. +</P> + +<P> +"Pelicans!" Into that simple and unoffending word John Dene managed to +precipitate whole dictionaries of contempt and disapproval. +</P> + +<P> +"Pelicans!" repeated Mrs. West in surprise, whilst Dorothy turned aside +to hide the smile that was in danger of becoming a laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," replied John Dene. "Birds with beaks like paddle-blades," he +added, as if to leave no room for misunderstanding. +</P> + +<P> +"But didn't Nero fiddle while Rome burned?" enquired Dorothy +mischievously. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe," was the reply, "but I'll auction it didn't put the fire out." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West gently, "different countries have +different traditions——" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"It's very kind of you, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West sweetly. "We should +be delighted, shouldn't we, Dorothy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, mother," said Dorothy without enthusiasm. +</P> + +<P> +John Dene turned suddenly and looked at her. Again he smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I hadn't thought of that," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Thought of what?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, you see enough of me all the week without my butting in on your +holidays." +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Having found a table and ordered tea, John Dene looked about him +appreciatively. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you for that tribute," said Dorothy demurely. +</P> + +<P> +"But it's true," said John Dene, turning to her. +</P> + +<P> +"But you don't always say a thing just because it's true, do you?" she +enquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," was the uncompromising response. +</P> + +<P> +"But," continued Dorothy, "suppose one day I was looking very plain and +unattractive, would you tell me of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"You couldn't." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"But how did you manage to do it in the time?" asked Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you are very wonderful," was Mrs. West's comment, and John +Dene knew she meant it. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" enquired Mrs. West, puzzled at the remark. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't jump over a wall when you're wearing leaden soles on your +boots," was the terse rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"A son's success means more to a mother than anything else," said Mrs. +West. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +He left the sentence uncompleted; but there was a look in his eyes that +was not usually there. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West sighed with all a mother's sympathy for a lonely man. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you like birds, Mr. Dene?" asked Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, sure," he replied, "I like all animals. That's what I don't +understand about you over here," he continued. +</P> + +<P> +"But we love animals," said Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"What should you do?" enquired Dorothy wickedly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if anything had to be killed that day it wouldn't be the fox." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid you wouldn't be very popular with your neighbours," said +Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"You wonder if I would what, Mr. Dene?" she asked with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"If you word all your invitations like that," said Dorothy, "we shall +accept every one, shan't we, mother?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," said John Dene. There was in his voice a note of grimness that +neither Dorothy nor Mrs. West seemed to detect. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"It's very kind of you——" began Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I don't want to butt-in," he said a little hastily. +</P> + +<P> +"Am I included in the invitation?" asked Dorothy quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," he replied, looking at her a little surprised. Then, seeing +the twitching at the corners of her mouth, he smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Then that's fixed up," he said. "I'll have an automobile for next +Saturday, and you shall arrange where we're to go." +</P> + +<P> +"But you mustn't joy-ride," said Dorothy, suddenly remembering D.O.R.A. +and all her Don't's. +</P> + +<P> +"Mustn't what?" demanded John Dene, in the tone of a man who finds his +pleasures suddenly threatened from an unexpected angle. +</P> + +<P> +"It's forbidden to use petrol for pleasure," she explained. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll get that automobile," he announced; and Dorothy knew that there +was trouble impending for Mr. Blair. +</P> + +<P> +"And we'll have a picnic-hamper, shall we?" she cried excitedly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," replied John Dene, "I'll order one." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, won't that be lovely, mother!" she cried, clapping her hands. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled her pleasure. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you taking us to dinner?" enquired Dorothy of John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"The Ritzton," he replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but we're not dressed for that!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's war time and I never dress," he announced, as if that settled the +matter. +</P> + +<P> +"But—" began Mrs. West hesitatingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you'd rather not come?" he began tentatively, his +disappointment too obvious to disguise. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but we want to come!" said Mrs. West, "only we're not in quite the +right clothes for the Ritzton, are we?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Then Dorothy started to gurgle. The picture of endeavouring to win the +war without clothes struck her as comical. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" admonished Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I was just thinking, mother." +</P> + +<P> +"Thinking of what?" asked John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"She'll do as she is," he announced with decision +</P> + +<P> +And again Dorothy felt her cheeks burn. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"So you approve of your future son-in-law, mother mine, I'm so glad," +said Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't say such things, my dear," expostulated Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I shall have to do the proposing though," Dorothy added. +</P> + +<P> +"It was very strange, meeting Mr. Dene to-day," remarked Mrs. West half +to herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Very," remarked Dorothy, and she hastened to talk of something else. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE STRANGENESS OF JOHN DENE +</H4> + +<P> +"Here, I'm being trailed." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Trailed," repeated Mr. Blair in an uncomprehending manner. +</P> + +<P> +John Dene stood looking down at him accusingly, as if he were +responsible. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair merely shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"He in?" John Dene jerked his head in the direction of Sir Lyster's +room. +</P> + +<P> +"He's—he's rather busy," began Mr. Blair. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Me or who?" queried Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"Whether it's some of your boys, or the other lot." +</P> + +<P> +After a moment's reflection Sir Lyster seemed to grasp John Dene's +meaning. "I'll make enquiry," he said suavely. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"When John Dene can't take care of himself," was the reply, "he'd +better give up and start a dairy." +</P> + +<P> +"How is the <I>Destroyer</I> progressing?" enquired Sir Lyster with the +object of changing the conversation. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Sir Goliath Maggie has appointed Commander Ryles," said Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later Sir Bridgman North found the First Lord sitting at +his table, apparently deep in thought. +</P> + +<P> +"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.'" +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster smiled feebly. He felt that Sir Bridgman was wearing the +joke a little threadbare. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Profane, you mean," laughed Sir Bridgman. "What happened?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I think my sympathies are with Rayner," smiled Sir Lyster, as Sir +Bridgman moved towards the door. "Frankly, I don't like John Dene." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't like him! Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," Sir Lyster hesitated for the fraction of a second, "he will +persist in treating us as equals." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't judge the whole British Navy by Mr. Blair," she said, +looking up from her note-book with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"One fool makes many," he had snapped decisively. +</P> + +<P> +"So that if I prove a fool," continued Dorothy quietly, "it convicts +you of being a fool also." +</P> + +<P> +"But that's another transaction," he objected. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it?" she asked, and became absorbed in her notes. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West had smiled at her daughter, as she sat at her favourite place +on a stool at her feet. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Stand without what, dear," asked Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Marjorie, you're a little idiot," cried Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw John Dene a few days ago," continued Marjorie. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and I stopped him." +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't, Marjorie." There was incredulity in Dorothy's voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't I, though," was the retort. "I gave him a hint, too." +</P> + +<P> +"A hint." Dorothy felt uncomfortable. The downrightness of Marjorie +Rogers was both notorious and embarrassing. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," nonchalantly, "I just said that at the Admiralty men always +kept their secretaries well-supplied with flowers and chocolates." +</P> + +<P> +"You little beast!" cried Dorothy, remembering the chocolates and +flowers that had recently been reaching her. "I should like to slap +you." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +At the end of the fifth week Blake wrote that the <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall sleep some to-night," he remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you always sleep?" enquired Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"I sleep better when there are no loose ends tickling my brain," was +the reply. +</P> + +<P> +As Dorothy left the office a few minutes after six he called her back. +</P> + +<P> +"If I've forgotten anything you'd best remind me." +</P> + +<P> +"Mother," she remarked, when she got home that evening, "John Dene's +the funniest man in all the world." +</P> + +<P> +"Is he, dear?" said Mrs. West non-committally. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy nodded her head with decision. "He wastes an awful lot of +time, and then he hustles like—like—well, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you mean, dear?" queried Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, he'll sit sometimes for an hour looking at nothing. It's not +complimentary when I'm there," she added. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps he's thinking," suggested Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy passed into her own room. She was a little puzzled. This was +the first morning that John Dene had been there before her. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +She made no remark, however, merely seating herself in her customary +place and waited for letters. +</P> + +<P> +He drew from his pocket some notes and began to dictate. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you sleep well last night, Mr. Dene?" she enquired during a pause +in the dictation. +</P> + +<P> +"Sleep well," he repeated, looking up at her, "I always sleep well." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Apparently he sensed what was passing through her mind, for he turned +to her again and said: +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not feeling very well this morning, Miss West, I——" Then he +hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you didn't sleep very well," she suggested mischievously. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +At twelve o'clock lunch arrived, and Dorothy had to confess to herself +that it was a lonely and unsatisfactory meal. +</P> + +<P> +At five o'clock John Dene returned and signed the letters with a rubber +stamp, which he had recently adopted. +</P> + +<P> +"When are you going away, Mr. Dene?" asked Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," he responded gruffly. +</P> + +<P> +"I merely asked because two people on the telephone enquired when you +were going away." +</P> + +<P> +"And what did you say?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I just said what you told me. A man called this afternoon also +with the same question." +</P> + +<P> +For a moment he looked at her, then turning on his heel said "good +evening," and with a nod walked out. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Better?" he interrogated. "I haven't been ill." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +She had become deeply interested in the <I>Destroyer</I> 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 <I>Destroyer</I> and what was expected of it. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly Dorothy turned and pursued her way up Regent Street. She was +tired and—and, oh! it was so stupid, going on living. +</P> + +<P> +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? +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE <I>DESTROYER</I> READY FOR SEA +</H4> + +<P> +James Blake stood in the bows of the <I>Toronto</I> gazing down at the long, +cigar-shaped object that lay like a huge grey cocoon reposing in her +bowels. The morrow would see the <I>Destroyer</I> floated out to carry her +three hundred odd feet of menace into the blues and greys of the ocean. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +As he gazed down at the grey shape of the <I>Destroyer's</I> hull, there was +in his eyes a strange look of absorption. For nearly two years he had +lived for the <I>Destroyer</I>. 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 <I>Destroyer</I>. It was the <I>mise en scêne</I> for +this wonder-boat. It was to be her setting, just as a stage is the +setting for a play. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I>. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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." +</P> + +<P> +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 +<I>Destroyer's</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +And now all was ready. That morning the <I>Destroyer</I> had been floated +into the <I>Toronto</I> 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 <I>Toronto's</I> deck ready +at the word of command to be transferred to the <I>Destroyer</I>. +</P> + +<P> +In design the <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> to Kingdom +Come should she ever be in danger of capture. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +"The <I>Destroyer's</I> a submarine," John Dene had remarked, "and +submarines fight and live under water and not on it." +</P> + +<P> +Consequently in designing the <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +Her most remarkable device, however, was the microphone, so sensitive +that, with the aid of her searchlights it would enable the <I>Destroyer</I> +to account for any "U"-boat that came within seven or eight miles of +where she was lying. +</P> + +<P> +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 +<I>Destroyer</I>, 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. +</P> + +<P> +"Spotty" Quint on spat meditatively upon the hull of the <I>Destroyer</I>. +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 <I>Destroyer</I>," 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. +</P> + +<P> +As Quinton silently took up a position by his side, Blake turned and +looked at him interrogatingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Ruddy masterpiece," exclaimed Quinton, spitting his admiration. +</P> + +<P> +Blake gazed upon the unprepossessing features of his subordinate, and +tugging a cigar from his pocket, handed it to him. +</P> + +<P> +Silently "Spotty" took the cigar, bit off the end and spat it together +with his thanks into the hold of the <I>Toronto</I>. 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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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 <I>Destroyer's</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I really think I shall have to speak to Mr. Dene about——" Sir Lyster +had begun. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"He is certainly a remarkable man," Sir Lyster had admitted +conventionally, referring to John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Blake and Quinton seated themselves one on either side of the little +wooden table in the cabin of the <I>Toronto</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +As the motor-boat entered the little harbour, Grant's eyes eagerly +fixed themselves upon the <I>Toronto</I>, seeming to take in every detail of +her construction. +</P> + +<P> +"Ready for the trial trip?" he enquired of Quinton. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," was the reply as he spat over the side. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim there?" +</P> + +<P> +Quinton jerked his thumb in the direction of the <I>Toronto</I>, 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. +</P> + +<P> +"Through with everything?" he enquired, as he seated himself, and +Quinton threw himself on a locker. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," replied Blake. +</P> + +<P> +"I——" began Grant, then breaking off cast a swift look over his +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +Blake nodded his head comprehendingly, whilst Quinton spat in the +direction of the door as if to defy eavesdroppers. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE DISAPPEARANCE OF JOHN DENE +</H4> + +<P> +"No more Saturday afternoons for you and John Dene, little mother," +cried Dorothy with forced gaiety as she rose from the breakfast table. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West looked up quickly. "Why?" she asked, a falter in her voice. +</P> + +<P> +"He's going away," announced Dorothy indifferently, as she pinned on +her hat. +</P> + +<P> +"To Canada?" asked Mrs. West anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"No," replied Dorothy in a toneless voice, "he's going away on +business." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" Mrs. West's relief was too obvious for dissimulation. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes there would cross her mind a suspicion so strange, so +fantastic that she would brush it aside as utterly ridiculous. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to see Sir Lyster at once," she panted. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair looked up at her in surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"He's engaged just now, Miss West," he said mildly. "Is there anything +I can do?" +</P> + +<P> +"It doesn't matter whether he's engaged, you must go into him at once, +Mr. Blair, and tell him I must see him." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair still continued to gaze at her with bovine wonder. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Dene has disappeared!" she gasped without any preliminary apology. +</P> + +<P> +"The devil!" exclaimed Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"We had better get Walton here." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I'm very sorry," she faltered, "but it seemed so important, and Mr. +Blair wouldn't let me come in." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster nodded his approval of her action. "You did quite right, +Miss——" +</P> + +<P> +"West," said Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss West," continued Sir Lyster. "There are occasions when——" He +hesitated for a word. +</P> + +<P> +"John Dene's methods are best," suggested Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster smiled; but there was no answering smile in Dorothy's eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think has happened?" she asked, looking from one to the +other. +</P> + +<P> +"It's impossible to say," began Sir Lyster, "it's—it's——" +</P> + +<P> +"Spies," she said with a catch in her voice. "I'm sure of it. They've +drugged him. They tried to poison our food." +</P> + +<P> +"Poison your food," repeated Sir Lyster uncomprehendingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Dorothy, and she proceeded to tell how it came about that +the luncheon and dinners were supplied from an anonymous source. +</P> + +<P> +"That's Walton," said Admiral Heyworth, and the other nodded. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Show him in," he said; then, turning to the others, he explained: +"Walton is out; but Sage is here." +</P> + +<P> +"Good," said Sir Bridgman, "sometimes Jack is better than his master." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster looked at him meaningly, and then at Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he safe?" enquired Dorothy, leaning forward, whilst the three men +looked at Sage as if not quite sure of his sanity. +</P> + +<P> +"I can only repeat what I have said," replied Sage, "the situation is +well in hand." +</P> + +<P> +"But how the devil——" began Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"I should like to ask Miss West a few questions," said Sage. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman subsided. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you come here?" he asked, turning to Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Dene didn't come this morning. I waited until past two, then I +rang up the Ritzton," she paused. +</P> + +<P> +"Go on," said Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"They told me he had not been back since yesterday morning." +</P> + +<P> +"And then?" enquired Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"You did quite right, Miss West," said Sir Lyster. "Why didn't you act +before?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," she began, and then paused. +</P> + +<P> +"Go on," said Sage encouragingly. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"How was his memory bad?" +</P> + +<P> +"He seemed to forget what he had written, and was always having letters +turned up." +</P> + +<P> +Sage nodded. "Go on," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"And that made you think he was ill," suggested Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said, "that and other things." +</P> + +<P> +"What other things?" +</P> + +<P> +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——" +</P> + +<P> +"Unconscious of himself, shall we say?" suggested Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" +</P> + +<P> +"That he was being drugged," she concluded reluctantly. +</P> + +<P> +"When did you first notice this?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"And what did he usually say?" enquired Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"He used to say 'morning,' or what really sounded more like 'morn,'" +she said with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you," said Sage. "Unless these gentlemen have any further +questions to put to you, there is nothing more to be done at present." +</P> + +<P> +"But is he——" she began, then she paused. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I know," said Dorothy, rising and drawing herself up with dignity. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Bursting in as you did just now," said Sir Bridgman with a laugh. +"It's the real John Dene manner." +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly," said Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster conducted Dorothy into Mr. Blair's room. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't understand the drift of all your questions, Mr. Sage," said +Sir Lyster, resuming his seat. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"But——" began Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman nodded approval. +</P> + +<P> +"Quite so," said Sir Lyster. "In the meantime what is to be done?" +</P> + +<P> +"Raise the hue and cry," said Sage quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Good God, man!" exclaimed Sir Bridgman. "It would give the whole game +away." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"You seriously suggest this publicity?" enquired Sir Lyster in cold and +even tones. +</P> + +<P> +"I do," said Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"You know why Mr. Dene is here." +</P> + +<P> +"I do." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet you still advise this course?" asked Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"I do," responded Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm damned!" said Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment a flicker of a smile crossed Malcolm Sage's serious +features. +</P> + +<P> +"What are your reasons?" demanded Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"My reasons are closely connected with my conclusions, sir, and at the +present time they are too nebulous to express." +</P> + +<P> +"We will consider this," said Sir Lyster with an air of concluding the +interview. +</P> + +<P> +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?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir, you have not," thundered Sir Lyster. "I shall report this +matter to Colonel Walton." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Good Lord! Grayne, you've done it now," said Sir Bridgman. "L. J. +thinks the world of that chap." +</P> + +<P> +"He's a most impertinent fellow," said Sir Lyster with heat. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Half an hour later Colonel Walton was seated in earnest conversation +with Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"It would be more awkward, sir, if Sage were allowed to go," said +Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Keeping John Dene under proper observation," suggested Colonel Walton +quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly." Mr. Llewellyn John looked at him quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"He was always guarded." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you——" began Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"Our men were tricked." +</P> + +<P> +"Tricked!" Mr. Llewellyn John looked startled. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But the number of——" +</P> + +<P> +"Fictitious both, the taxi and the run-about. We thought it expedient +not to detain the man who ran into McLean," Colonel Walton added. +</P> + +<P> +For nearly a minute Mr. Llewellyn John sat staring at the Chief of +Department Z. +</P> + +<P> +"It's most unfortunate, disastrous in fact," he said at length. "We +must try and get into touch with Auchinlech by wireless." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid it will be useless," was the response. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the War Cabinet to be considered," murmured Mr. Llewellyn John +to himself. "The war does not——" He hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Make men tractable," suggested Colonel Walton helpfully. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"What am I to do, sir? There is very little time." +</P> + +<P> +"Do," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "why run your department in your own +way, Walton." +</P> + +<P> +"I have an absolutely free hand?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"Absolutely," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "but I wish you could tell me +more." +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"Prime Ministers or First Lords," suggested Mr. Llewellyn John with a +smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly." +</P> + +<P> +"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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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." +</P> + +<P> +"It puzzles me too, sir," said Colonel Walton quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"They'll probably think that he's an extremely valuable man," was the +dry retort. +</P> + +<P> +"That's it exactly," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "and Berlin will +congratulate itself upon a master-stroke." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton felt inclined to suggest that was exactly what Malcolm +Sage seemed most to desire; but he refrained. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, Walton, carry on," said Mr. Llewellyn John; "but frankly I +don't like it," he added half to himself. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton left No. 110, Downing Street, and ten minutes later +Malcolm Sage withdrew his resignation. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +As she said "Good night," Mrs. West put her arm round Dorothy's +shoulders, and in a shaky voice said: +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think God would let anything happen to a good man like Mr. +Dene;" and Dorothy turned and left the room abruptly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE HUE AND CRY +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +On the morning following the discovery of John Dene's disappearance, +the British public was startled at its breakfast-table by an offer of +£10,000 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. +</P> + +<P> +The notice drawn up by Department Z. ran: +</P> + +<BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +MISSING +</H1> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +£10,000 REWARD +</H1> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Where is +</H2> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN DENE of TORONTO? +</H2> + +<BR> + +<P STYLE="margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%"> +"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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center" STYLE="text-decoration: underline"> +HIS SECRETARY BECOMES ALARMED +</P> + +<P STYLE="margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%"> +"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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center" STYLE="text-decoration: underline"> +WHERE IS JOHN DENE OF TORONTO? +</P> + +<P STYLE="margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%"> +"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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center" STYLE="text-decoration: underline"> +IS IT FOUL PLAY? +</P> + +<P STYLE="margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%"> +"A reward of £10,000 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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center" STYLE="text-decoration: underline"> +THIS IS WHAT HE IS LIKE. +</P> + +<P STYLE="margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%"> +"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. +</P> + +<P STYLE="margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%"> +"All communications should be addressed to Scotland Yard, S.W." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>The Daily Photo</I> had that day come to her door +begging. +</P> + +<P> +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? +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +People waited eagerly for the morrow's papers. They contained another +surprise, this time in the form of a two column advertisement, offering +£20,000 for information that would lead to the discovery of the +whereabouts of John Dene. Clearly somebody was determined that John +Dene should be found. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"I should think it highly probable, sir," was Sage's response. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Acknowledge that they are, sir," was the response. +</P> + +<P> +"Acknowledge it!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"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 £1,000, rising daily from +£1,000 to £10,000. In two days it has amounted to £20,000." +</P> + +<P> +"It won't rise any higher, sir. It has reached the limit." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage continued to examine his finger-nails with great +intentness. +</P> + +<P> +Seeing that he made no indication of replying, Mr. Llewellyn John +continued: +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid that this cannot go on." There was a suggestion of +irritability in his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Then have it stopped, sir," said Sage calmly, still intent upon the +finger-nails of his right hand. +</P> + +<P> +"The mischief is done," said Mr. Llewellyn John. "What is at the back +of your mind, Sage?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John smiled. "Well, tell me what you actually know +then," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Kidnapped!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage shrugged his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"In which direction did he drive?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Along Pall Mall, sir," was the reply. "Colonel Walton told you what +happened?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John nodded. "And have you informed the police?" he +asked. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But the <I>Destroyer</I>!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John excitedly. +</P> + +<P> +"You know the conditions, sir, that the island of Auchinlech was to be +left severely alone for four months." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you imagine that Dene slipped off to the north to trick the +Germans?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"And that he is a prisoner?" Mr. Llewellyn John jumped from his chair. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage inclined his head in the affirmative. +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John, "we must——" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"But the questions in the House as to why we are offering this reward?" +persisted Mr. Llewellyn John. "What reply are we to make?" +</P> + +<P> +"You might fall back on the old cliché, sir: 'Wait and see.'" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"That phrase," continued Sage, "was a great asset to one party, why +should it not be to another?" +</P> + +<P> +"Look at this." Mr. Llewellyn John held out a slip of paper, which +Colonel Walton took and read aloud. +</P> + +<P> +"Has the attention of the Home Secretary been drawn to a statement in +<I>The Tribune</I> to the effect that it is the Government that is offering +the reward of £10,000 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?" +</P> + +<P> +"They haven't lost any time," remarked Sage quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"They never do." There was an unaccustomed note of irascibility in Mr. +Llewellyn John's voice. "These questions are a scandal." +</P> + +<P> +"Except when one happens to be in opposition, sir," said Sage, +apparently absorbed in examining the nails of his left hand. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John made no response, and Colonel Walton handed back to +him the slip, which he tossed upon the table. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he demanded, looking from Colonel Walton to Sage, "what are we +to reply?" +</P> + +<P> +"The answer is in the affirmative, sir," said Malcolm Sage. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment Mr. Llewellyn John looked at him, frowning, then he broke +into a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all very well, Sage, but it's not sufficient." +</P> + +<P> +"If I may venture a suggestion——" began Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"Do—do, that's why I sent for you—both," he added, as if in deference +to Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"I would say that for reasons not unconnected with the prosecution of +the war, the discovery of Mr. John Dene's whereabouts is imperative." +</P> + +<P> +"But that would be giving us away more than ever." +</P> + +<P> +"I think it would be desirable to temporise," said Sage. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John made a movement of impatience. +</P> + +<P> +"You might reply that it is not in the public interest to answer the +question," continued Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage looked at him steadily, but without speaking. +</P> + +<P> +"There will inevitably be other questions arising out of this," +continued Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, sir, I'll relinquish the enquiry if you wish it." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +He looked up suddenly, straight into Mr. Llewellyn John's eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"We all know you are hopelessly and irretrievably mad, Sage," said Mr. +Llewellyn John with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you refuse to tell me?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But the time we are wasting," protested Mr. Llewellyn John, rising and +pacing up and down impatiently. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing is lost that's wrought with tears, sir," was the enigmatical +response. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you take the Skipper into your confidence, Sage?" enquired +Walton, as they walked towards the Duke of York's steps. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"That's tantamount to an acknowledgment," cried Mr. McShane, springing +to his feet. "It's a scandal that public money——" +</P> + +<P> +He got no further, as at this point he was called to order by the +Speaker. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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 +<I>The Morning Age</I>. "The real danger of Prussianism is not military, +but bureaucratic." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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?" +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. He was a man to whom words came with difficulty. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"They can do no harm," remarked Colonel Walton drily. +</P> + +<P> +"I want Sage to go round and see the Deputy-Commissioner." +</P> + +<P> +"I doubt if he'll do it," was the grim response. +</P> + +<P> +"Not do it!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John, with a note of anger in his +voice. +</P> + +<P> +"In fact, I'm quite sure he won't." +</P> + +<P> +"If you tell him that those are my instructions——" began Mr. +Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"It's no use, sir, he'll merely resign. He's as independent as an +American boot-boy." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John flopped down in a chair, and sat gazing at Colonel +Walton. "But he's got us into this muddle," he began. +</P> + +<P> +"I've never known Sage's judgment at fault yet," replied Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you advise——" began Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"I never venture to advise," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly as Sage advises," was the terse response. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> should be put into commission with the +least possible delay. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John looked interrogatingly across at Sir Lyster Grayne, +who shook his head decisively. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John nodded, and made a mental note of the phrase. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John looked up quickly. "I think," he said, "that Grayne +is right. Nothing can absolve us from our pledge." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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— +</P> + +<P> +"The Prime Minister has given his word," interpolated Sir Lyster +quietly. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Roger glared at him. "Death nullifies a contract of this +description," retorted Sir Roger. +</P> + +<P> +"But the Prime Minister is not yet dead," said Sir Lyster drily. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John started slightly. He did not like these references +to death and resignation. +</P> + +<P> +"In law——" began Sir Roger. +</P> + +<P> +"This is not a matter of law, but of a private promise." Sir Lyster +was insistent. +</P> + +<P> +"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 <I>Destroyer</I> in accordance with Mr. Dene's wishes." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +The Home Secretary promised personally to urge the police to greater +efforts. +</P> + +<P> +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? +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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 £20,000. +</P> + +<P> +"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 £20,000 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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Koelnische Zeitung</I>, "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 <I>within two days of his +disappearance</I>. 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, <I>was certainly +not detrimental to German interests</I>. +</P> + +<P> +The <I>Vorwärts</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +The <I>Berliner Tageblatt</I> 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 <I>fit</I> to win." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MR. LLEWELLYN JOHN BECOMES ALARMED +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Eight more questions on the paper," he said grimly. "I suppose you +appreciate the seriousness of it all." +</P> + +<P> +"What would you suggest doing?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John tactfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Get a new lock for the stable door now the horse is gone," was the +uncompromising retort. +</P> + +<P> +"I've asked Colonel Walton to step round," said Mr. Llewellyn John, +ignoring his colleague's remark. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But surely you wouldn't quarrel——" +</P> + +<P> +"I always quarrel with a fool who doesn't see the consequences likely +to arise out of his folly," said Sir Roger. +</P> + +<P> +"If he would only play golf," murmured Mr. Llewellyn John plaintively. +</P> + +<P> +"He'd resign at the first green because someone had shouted 'fore.' +The man's a freak!" Sir Roger was very downright this morning. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish we had a few more of the same sort," was Mr. Llewellyn John's +smiling rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +At Scotland Yard he was known as "Sage and Onions," the feebleness of +the <I>jeu d'esprit</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Roger had remarked that the Prime Minister lay awake half the night +coining phrases which would not win the war. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"We must learn to think Imperially, my dear Flynn." +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet he's so popular with his own men," said Mr. Llewellyn John. +"At Department Z. they would do anything for him." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I wish they'd do it and keep him there." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"The Skipper's got the wind up, Sage," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"I expected as much." +</P> + +<P> +"I've got to go round there in a quarter of an hour. Sir Roger's +trying to force his hand." +</P> + +<P> +"Let him," said Malcolm Sage. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton shook his head with a smile. "That's all very well, +Sage; but it isn't the language of diplomacy." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"In the meantime we must be diplomatic," said Colonel Walton. "That's +why I'm not taking you with me this morning." +</P> + +<P> +"You think I'd resign," queried Sage with an odd movement at the +corners of his mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"If it's anything at all like what comes through to me——" and Malcolm +Sage shrugged his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later Colonel Walton was shown into Mr. Llewellyn John's +room. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! here you are," cried Mr. Llewellyn John, as he motioned Colonel +Walton to a seat. "Is there any news?" +</P> + +<P> +"None, sir," was the response. +</P> + +<P> +"This is getting very serious, Walton," said Mr. Llewellyn John, +"something really must be done." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" demanded Sir Roger. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't that," said Mr. Llewellyn John irritably. "It's the reward +that's causing all the trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"What is the detective for if it's not to solve mysteries?" demanded +Sir Roger aggressively. +</P> + +<P> +"I think that is a question for Scotland Yard, sir," said Colonel +Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Roger flushed angrily, and was about to speak when Mr. Llewellyn +John stepped into the breach. +</P> + +<P> +"You know, Walton, we have to consider the political aspect," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"What is Department Z.'s conception of the detective then?" demanded +Sir Roger. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John nodded agreement. +</P> + +<P> +"You remember the Winthorpe murder case, Sir Roger?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do," said the Home Secretary. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But while they are worrying about that," remarked Colonel Walton +imperturbably, "they're dropping the 'intern all aliens' cry." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Or Sage," suggested Colonel Walton slyly. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"In all probability until the full four months have expired," was the +rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John in consternation. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +For a few moments there was silence, broken at length by Sir Roger. +</P> + +<P> +"But that does not relieve my congested Department," he said +complainingly. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens, Walton!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John. "Surely you're not +going to start resigning." +</P> + +<P> +"In the light of Sir Roger's remark, it's the only course open for me," +was the dignified retort, as Colonel Walton rose. +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +He paused and again he looked expectantly at Sir Roger, who seemed +engrossed in fingering the lower button of his waistcoat. +</P> + +<P> +"Neither Sage nor I have any desire to embarrass you or the Home +Secretary," continued Colonel Walton, "but——" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"The question is, how long is this to continue?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +For some moments Colonel Walton did not reply. He appeared to be +weighing something in his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"We're up against the cleverest organisation in the world," he said at +length, "and Sage believes that a single man controls the lot." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense!" broke in Sir Roger. "This spy craze is pure imagination." +</P> + +<P> +"In any case it causes the War Cabinet a great amount of concern," said +Mr. Llewellyn John drily. +</P> + +<P> +"I think," proceeded Colonel Walton, "that before the expiration of the +four months stipulated for by John Dene, Department Z. will have +justified itself." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" demanded Sir Roger. +</P> + +<P> +"I can say nothing more," said Colonel Walton, moving towards the door, +"at present." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, carry on, Walton," said Mr. Llewellyn John and, with a wave of +his hand, "and good luck." +</P> + +<P> +"Those two men have megalomania in its worst possible form," growled +Sir Roger, as he too rose to take his departure. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if they don't make good on this," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "you +can decide whether or not their resignations be accepted." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Was there any danger of the telephone system being interrupted? +</P> + +<P> +No, the cable was being laid as a precaution. The existing cable was +showing faults. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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 ménage Naylor isn't a subject for +investigation by the Food Controller." +</P> + +<P> +Thompson grinned. +</P> + +<P> +"Eighty pounds of potatoes seems to be a generous week's supply for +three people." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"And a dirty one, too, sir," added Thompson with disgust. "I've been +at hotels with 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"Seven meals a day is one of the articles of faith of the good German, +Thompson," continued Malcolm Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"And what's the result, sir?" remarked Thompson. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose," remarked Sage meditatively, "it's the same as with a +bean-fed horse. They go out looking for trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"And they're going to get it," was the grim rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, carry on, Thompson," said Sage by way of dismissal. "You'll +learn a great deal about the green-grocery trade in the process." +</P> + +<P> +"And waterworks—and gas and things, sir," grinned Thompson. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Bad time?" enquired Sage as Colonel Walton dropped into a chair and, +taking off his cap, mopped his forehead. +</P> + +<P> +"On this occasion I resigned for both of us." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +But Colonel Walton did not look up from the end of his cigar, which he +was examining with great intentness. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Dumb?" queried Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage nodded without raising his eyes from his finger-nails. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"There's always the domestic servant," suggested Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +FINLAY'S S.O.S. +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H4> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy looked up quickly. "But——" she began, then paused. +</P> + +<P> +"And it's all Mr. Llewellyn John's fault. He ought to intern all +aliens. On raid-nights the Tube is simply disgusting." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"If it isn't the spies," continued Marjorie, "then what is it?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"A man doesn't get lost like a pawn-ticket," announced Marjorie. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you know about pawn-tickets, Rojjie?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I often pop things when I'm hard up," she announced nonchalantly. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't!" cried Dorothy incredulously. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course. What should I do when I'm stoney if it wasn't for uncle." +</P> + +<P> +"You outrageous little creature!" cried Dorothy. "I should like to +shake you." +</P> + +<P> +"He's quite a nice youth, with black hair greased into what I think he +would call a 'quiff.'" +</P> + +<P> +"What on earth are you talking about?" +</P> + +<P> +"Uncle, of course. He always gives me more than anyone else," she +announced with the air of one conscious of a triumph. +</P> + +<P> +"Where will you end, Rojjie?" cried Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"A John Dene!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ummm!" nodded Marjorie. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"Marry him, of course." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be absurd." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Marjorie slipped off the table and, going over to Dorothy, +threw her arms round her impulsively. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so sorry, Dollikins," she cried, snuggling up against her. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry for what?" asked Dorothy in a weak voice. +</P> + +<P> +"That he got lost. I—I <I>know</I>," she added. +</P> + +<P> +"Know what?" asked Dorothy, her voice still weaker. +</P> + +<P> +"That you're keen on him." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Everybody she encountered seemed to think it necessary to refer to the +very subject she would have wished left unmentioned. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Their week-end excursions had lost their savour, and they both +recognised how much John Dene had become part of their lives. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Montagu Naylor's comings and goings continued to interest +Department Z., and Apthorpe Road was still in the grip of the workman. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Marjorie nodded understandingly, and continued to swing a dainty, +grey-stockinged leg. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +A careful examination disclosed nothing. The silver nob and ferrule +were removed; but without bringing to light anything in the nature of a +communication. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing in it, sir," he said, interpreting the question. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm the biggest fool in London," said Thompson without looking up. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Anything new?" he enquired, dropping into a chair beside Sage's table. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid there's going to be trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Bluff, that accusing Finlay of acting on his own about John Dene." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the dug-out business, I don't like," he said at length. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. "You think?" he queried. +</P> + +<P> +Sage nodded, his face was unusually grave. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"We've got to speed up." Malcolm Sage addressed the remark apparently +to the thumbnail of his left hand. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like that dug-out business at all," continued Sage. "The +changing of the site too," he added. +</P> + +<P> +"Had they got far with the first one?" enquired Colonel Walton +</P> + +<P> +"About five feet down; but they haven't filled it in yet." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton looked up quickly. His face was grave. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"A dug-out after nearly four years of raids?" +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly," said Sage, "that and the unfilled hole and Naylor's own +activities——" He broke off significantly. +</P> + +<P> +"About the reward? It would be awkward if—— Come in." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton broke off at the sound of a knock at the door. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Arrest me late to-night and have me taken to Tower. Slip the dogs +to-morrow certain, delay dangerous. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +J. F." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"We can't do it to-night," announced Sage with decision. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"He must take the risk until the morning," continued Sage. "You'll be +here until it's all through?" he interrogated. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. When thoughtful he was more than usually +sparing of words. +</P> + +<P> +"About the reward?" he interrogated, as Sage rose and moved towards the +door. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll withdraw it in to-morrow evening's papers," was the response, +"if you agree." +</P> + +<P> +Again Colonel Walton nodded, and Malcolm Sage went out, bent on +reminding Scotland Yard of his existence. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MALCOLM SAGE CASTS HIS NET +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H4> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Zero is noon," mused Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Sage nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"They'll begin to drift in about twelve-thirty," he continued, puffing +placidly at his cigar. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"He had the wind up rather badly at one time." +</P> + +<P> +"Celt," was Sage's comment. +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. +</P> + +<P> +For some minutes the two smoked in silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope they won't start any of that O.B.E. business," said Sage at +length. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure to. It will be a triumph for the Skipper," continued Colonel +Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton continued to puff contentedly at his cigar. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>sotto voce</I> ridicule. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +Department Z., however, had its own means of obtaining such warrants as +were required without questions being asked. +</P> + +<P> +Early that morning Malcolm Sage had got through to Inspector Crabbett. +</P> + +<P> +"That you, Inspector?" he enquired. +</P> + +<P> +"What's left of me," was the surly retort. +</P> + +<P> +"Got that little list of mine?" enquired Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you," said Sage imperturbably, as he replaced the receiver. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H4> + +<P> +"Was that the telephone?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Naylor barked the question down from the first-floor. There was a +pad-pad of feet, and Mrs. Naylor appeared from the basement. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she replied timidly. "Shall I go?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Hullo!" he called into the mouthpiece, lifting off the receiver. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that twelve Haymarket?" came the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Back about two," he grunted. "Keep that damned dog tied up." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll see to it," said Mrs. Naylor in a voice that seemed to come +through cotton-wool. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Thus was Mr. Montagu Naylor of Streatham secured and conducted to the +Tower, there eventually to make acquaintance with the miniature +rifle-range. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no!" she cried. "Mr. Naylor is away. Come again this afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Naylor wavered. The word "police" had for her a peculiar and +terrifying significance. +</P> + +<P> +"You—you only want to go in the passage," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Very deliberately she knocked and paused—knock—knock—knock, pause, +knock—knock. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Got him, Thompson?" It was Malcolm Sage who spoke; but from a +physical substance that was not Malcolm Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"Got them and it, sir," was the response. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you hit?" +</P> + +<P> +"Only in the arm, sir. Nothing to write home about," was the cheery +response. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Get a window open, Thompson; thrust all that greenery stuff out," +cried Malcolm Sage. +</P> + +<P> +"Right, sir." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"That's better," murmured Malcolm Sage. "What a stink!" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage shuddered at the thought of living week after week under +such conditions. He turned to his prisoners. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Right, sir," said Thompson. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Apthorpe Road gasped its astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Dope," was all he said. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +In the back-garden James was having a meal—it was to be his last. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's been a happy day," said Malcolm Sage, as he proceeded to +light the cigar Colonel Walton had given him. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope the other fellows have got their lot," said the Chief of +Department Z., as the car ran into the High Road. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Where the deuce are we going to put them all," he asked of one of his +N.C.O.'s. +</P> + +<P> +The man shook his head helplessly. +</P> + +<P> +"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!" +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +III +</H4> + +<P> +"Well, Thompson," remarked Colonel Walton with a smile, "you have +earned——" +</P> + +<P> +"A wound stripe," interrupted Sage. +</P> + +<P> +Thompson grinned, as he looked down at his right arm resting in a sling. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Plucky little devil," murmured Malcolm Sage. "He bit and scratched +with the utmost impartiality." +</P> + +<P> +Malcolm Sage and Thompson were seated in Colonel Walton's room +discussing the events of the morning. +</P> + +<P> +"We were only just in time," said Sage. "Finlay was right." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"It was dope, sir." Thompson looked from Colonel Walton to Malcolm +Sage. "Sir Bryllith said he'll be months in a home." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Sage. "He won't be fit to answer questions for a long +time. Been doped all the time, nearly three months." +</P> + +<P> +"If there's nothing more——" began Thompson. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Thompson, go and get a sleep," said Colonel Walton. "Look after +that arm, and take things easy for a few days." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, sir," said Thompson; "but I'm afraid I've forgotten the +way," and with a grin he went out. +</P> + +<P> +"You've wirelessed?" asked Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"The whole story. They're bound to pick it up at Auchinlech." +</P> + +<P> +"And the Skipper?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! just what we actually know, I should say," responded Sage, and +Colonel Walton nodded his agreement. +</P> + +<P> +"They're puzzled over those announcements withdrawing the reward," said +Sage a few minutes later. "We ought to be hearing from the Skipper +soon." +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +In another room Gladys Norman was fussing over a wounded hero. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Department Z. makes its traditions as it goes along," Malcolm Sage had +once said. "It's more natural." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XVIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE RETURN OF JOHN DENE +</H4> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Seven certainties and two doubtful," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"About normal, then?" +</P> + +<P> +Admiral Heyworth nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"That leaves twenty-eight in the air," said Sir Bridgman, more to +himself than to the others. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster nodded thoughtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"No wonder they're getting the wind up," mused Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"The I.D. says that Kiel and Wilhelmshaven are in a state of panic," +said Admiral Heyworth. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"It might of course be wangle," murmured Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster shook his head decidedly. +</P> + +<P> +"The I.D. says no," he remarked. "They're doing everything they can to +keep it dark." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it's damned funny," repeated Sir Bridgman. "What does L. J. +say?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman lit a cigarette, then after a short silence Sir Lyster +said tentatively: +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose it isn't the Americans?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I——" began Sir Lyster, then paused. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"It might have been very serious," said Sir Lyster gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I forgot about that flying-boat business," he said, and soon the three +were engaged in a technical discussion. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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—— +</P> + +<P> +"Here, who the hell's shut my offices, and where's Miss West?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Blair gazed stupidly at his visitors. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I——" he stammered. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman was the first to recover from his surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"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?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Girl! what girl?" enquired Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss West," snapped John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss West!" repeated Sir Lyster vaguely, then memory suddenly coming +to his aid he added weakly, "Yes, I remember. She became your +secretary." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene regarded him steadily. Sir Bridgman hid a smile, he always +enjoyed a situation that brought Sir Lyster into antagonism with John +Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; but that don't help any," cried John Dene irascibly. "Where is +she now?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Following the direction of Sir Lyster's eyes, John Dene saw his +henchman. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Pleased to meet you," said Spotty briefly. +</P> + +<P> +"How's the <I>Destroyer</I>?" asked Sir Bridgman with some eagerness. +</P> + +<P> +"Ruddy miracle," said Spotty, as he once more got the fireplace dead in +the centre. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +At last by an obvious effort he turned to John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"I congratulate you upon your escape," he said, "but I thought you were +too ill to——" +</P> + +<P> +"My escape!" replied John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, from that place—where was it, North?" He turned to Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"Streatham." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! yes, Streatham." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Shutting up my offices," he muttered. +</P> + +<P> +"But——" began Sir Lyster, then paused. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been over to Chiswick and she's not there; flat's shut," +continued John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"Chiswick!" repeated Sir Lyster. "Whose flat?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. West's, and you've shut my offices," he added, with the air of +one unwilling to relinquish an obvious grievance. +</P> + +<P> +"But I understood that you had just been released from a house in +Streatham," persisted Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, there's a good many mutts in this place who've been released too +soon. You're talking about Jim." +</P> + +<P> +"Jim!" repeated Sir Lyster, "Jim who?" +</P> + +<P> +"My brother. They were all after me good and hard, so Jim came along, +and I just slipped up north with your man." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you were the fellow with red hair all over him," laughed Sir +Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But where is he now?" asked Sir Lyster. +</P> + +<P> +"He's probably the John Dene that they think was released from that +place in Streatham," suggested Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim's all right," said John Dene, "but where's Miss West and my keys?" +</P> + +<P> +At that moment the telephone bell rang. Sir Lyster lifted the receiver +from the rest and listened. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"But the <I>Destroyer</I>?" broke in Admiral Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Dene," began Sir Lyster in his most impressive manner, "your +patriotism has—— +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +For some moments after John Dene had gone, Sir Lyster and Sir Bridgman +and Admiral Heyworth gazed at each other without speaking. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think it's drink, Grayne, or only the heat?" Sir Bridgman +laughed. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Get me through to the Prime Minister. What's that? Yes, Sir +Bridgman's here. Very well, we'll come round at once." +</P> + +<P> +As he replaced the receiver he rose. +</P> + +<P> +"The Prime Minister would like us to step round," he said. "Walton and +Sage are there. It's about John Dene." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Sir Lyster wondered why Sir Bridgman persisted in his jokes, however +much they might have become frayed at the edges. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"John Dene has been found," he cried before his callers had taken the +chairs to which he waved them. +</P> + +<P> +"We left poor Blair with the same conviction," laughed Sir Bridgman. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you know?" +</P> + +<P> +"I telephoned Sir Lyster," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"But——" Mr. Llewellyn John looked from Colonel Walton to Malcolm +Sage, and then on to Sir Lyster in bewilderment. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps, Sage——" suggested Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better tell the story, Sage, as Colonel Walton suggests," said +Mr. Llewellyn John. +</P> + +<P> +"There is an official report in preparation," said Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John nodded. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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 <I>Destroyer</I> 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 <I>Destroyer</I> would not sail without Mr. Dene." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" interpolated Mr. Llewellyn John +</P> + +<P> +"They obtained the guarantee." +</P> + +<P> +"I remember," said Mr. Llewellyn John, "it was stolen." +</P> + +<P> +"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.'" +</P> + +<P> +Sir Bridgman North laughed, Sir Lyster turned to him reproachfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Dene became convinced that an effort would be made to kidnap and +hold him to ransom, the price being the plans of the <I>Destroyer</I>. +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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"But all that time what happened to the <I>Destroyer</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +"The <I>Destroyer</I> was responsible for the extraordinary increase in the +mortality among U-boats." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Llewellyn John jumped from his chair as if he had been thrown up by +a hidden spring. +</P> + +<P> +"But—but——" he began. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Dene hit upon a clever ruse," continued Sage, "and——" +</P> + +<P> +"But the advertisements! Did you know this at the time?" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"I see, I see," cried Mr. Llewellyn John; "but how on earth did you +ferret all this out?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +And Mr. Llewellyn John smiled. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Colonel Walton nodded. "We must see John Dene, however," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"If only for the good of his own soul," said Sage, as he knocked his +pipe against a railing. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +COMMANDER JOHN DENE GOES TO BOURNEMOUTH +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Look, mother," she cried, "it's——" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Dorothy released her mother's arm and, running across the +road, planted herself directly in John Dene's path. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Dene!" she cried, when he was within a yard or two of her. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been chasing all over Robin Hood's barn to find you," he cried, +still clasping Mrs. West's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"You look very nice, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West, smiling happily. She +had not yet recovered from her surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"All the girls are turning and envying mother and me," said Dorothy +mischievously. +</P> + +<P> +"Envying you?" John Dene turned upon her a look of interrogation. +</P> + +<P> +"For being with you," she explained. +</P> + +<P> +For some reason John Dene's face fell. Mrs. West hastened to the +rescue. +</P> + +<P> +"We've all been so anxious about you," she smiled. "We—we thought——" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Reward's withdrawn. Haven't you seen the papers?" he said +practically; "but they nearly did for Jim," he added inconsequently. +</P> + +<P> +"Jim!" repeated Dorothy. "Who is Jim?" +</P> + +<P> +"My brother," was the reply. "He took my place and I went north." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Disapprove of <I>you</I>!" 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. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, it's about time we had some food," he said, turning his wrist to +see the time. +</P> + +<P> +"We were just going home to dinner," said Mrs. West. "Won't you come +with us?" +</P> + +<P> +"I want you to come right along to my hotel. I've booked a table for +you." +</P> + +<P> +"That's not very complimentary to our attractiveness, Mr. Dene," said +Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +Again John Dene turned to her with a puzzled look in his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"You should have assumed that two such desirable people as mother and +me were dining out every night, shouldn't he, mother?" +</P> + +<P> +John Dene turned to Mrs. West, his brows meeting in a frown of +uncertainty. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"And aren't you happy?" enquired Dorothy, her eyes sparkling with +excitement at the story of what the <I>Destroyer</I>, her <I>Destroyer</I>, had +done. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," he replied, looking straight into her eyes, whereat she dropped +her gaze to the peach upon her plate. +</P> + +<P> +"I feel very proud that I know you, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West, her eyes +moist with happiness. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you smile?" asked Dorothy, looking up at him from beneath her +lashes. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it tickled me some." +</P> + +<P> +"What did?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"That anyone should be proud to know me," he said simply. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps it's because you've never gingered mother up," said Dorothy +pertly. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" Mrs. West looked anxiously at John Dene, but his eyes were +on Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"And are you glad to know me?" he demanded +</P> + +<P> +"'Proud' was the word," corrected Dorothy, playing with her fruit knife. +</P> + +<P> +"'Glad' will do," he said, watching her keenly. "Are you glad I'm +back." +</P> + +<P> +"'You see I'm your secretary," she said demurely, "and I'm—I'm paid to +be glad, aren't I?" +</P> + +<P> +John Dene's face fell. +</P> + +<P> +"When you get to know her better," said Mrs. West, "you will see that +she only teases her friends." +</P> + +<P> +"And her poor mother," put in Dorothy. "When do we resume work, Mr. +Dene?" she asked, turning to him. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll go back to-morrow a.m.," he said, obviously relieved at the +suggestion. +</P> + +<P> +"But our holidays!" cried Dorothy in mock consternation. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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 <I>Destroyer</I> had been +secured. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't figure on Jim getting corralled," said John Dene at length. +</P> + +<P> +"That was where your reasoning was at fault," was Malcolm Sage's quiet +retort. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"He'll be all right in a month or so," said Colonel Walton reassuringly. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I was tickled to death about those advertisements," said John Dene +presently. +</P> + +<P> +"You probably thought we were barking up the wrong tree," suggested +Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, until you put me wise." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"If it hadn't been for those advertisements——" began John Dene, then +he paused. +</P> + +<P> +"The first hole dug in Mr. Naylor's back-garden would have been +filled-in again," said Sage quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"But how did they manage Jim after he'd got into that taxi?" +</P> + +<P> +"The driver released a multiple curtain that fell over his head. As it +dropped chloroform was sprayed over it. Quite a simple automatic +contrivance." +</P> + +<P> +There was a look in John Dene's eyes that would have been instructive +to Mr. Naylor could he have seen it. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +As Sage ceased speaking, Colonel Walton offered his cigar-case to John +Dene, who, taking a cigar proceeded to light it. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene nodded and looked across at Sage, as if expecting something +further. +</P> + +<P> +"That was one of our men." +</P> + +<P> +"But——" +</P> + +<P> +"I told him to tread on your toe," proceeded Malcolm Sage, "so that you +might remember that Department Z. was not quite so——" +</P> + +<P> +"Now it gets me," cried John Dene. "It was you who trod on my foot at +the theatre." +</P> + +<P> +"At 'Chu Chin Chow,'" said Malcolm Sage, smiling. +</P> + +<P> +"Seems to be a sort of stunt of yours," said John Dene as he rose. +</P> + +<P> +"Going, Mr. Dene?" enquired Colonel Walton. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"What I like about colonials," remarked Colonel Walton drily, "is their +uncompromising directness." +</P> + +<P> +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 +<I>Destroyer</I>. It proved to be one of the most remarkable documents of +the war. First it described how the <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +After the first few weeks the <I>Destroyer</I> had been brought south, there +to catch U-boats soon after they submerged. That was where the Germans +suffered their greatest losses. Once the <I>Destroyer</I> had penetrated +right into the Heligoland Bight, her "eyes" enabling her to avoid +submerged mines and entanglements. +</P> + +<P> +Commander Ryles had himself witnessed the destruction of thirty-four +U-boats. Three times the <I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +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." +</P> + +<P> +And Mr. Llewellyn John smiled. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XX +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN DENE'S PROPOSAL +</H4> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"She's gone home," he said, divining the cause of Marjorie's call. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +John Dene shook his head, but continued to gaze at her. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Like who?" demanded John Dene, wondering why the girl stayed now that +he had told her Dorothy had gone home. +</P> + +<P> +"Us girls." Marjorie flashed at him the sub-captain look. "May I sit +down?" she asked softly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure." John Dene was regarding her much as he might a blue zebra that +had strayed into his office. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I have been wondering about Wessie——" +</P> + +<P> +"Wessie, who's she, a cat?" +</P> + +<P> +Marjorie dimpled, then she laughed outright. +</P> + +<P> +"You are funny, Mr. Dene," and again she drew in her lower lip and +raked him with her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's Wessie, anyhow?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Wessie's Dorothy," she explained. "You see," she went on, "her name's +West and——" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"As I said," she continued, "I've been wondering about Dorothy." +</P> + +<P> +"Wondering what?" +</P> + +<P> +John Dene was certainly a most difficult man to talk to, she decided. +</P> + +<P> +"She's thinner," announced Marjorie after a slight pause. +</P> + +<P> +"Thinner?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, not so fat." How absurd he was with his—— +</P> + +<P> +"She never was fat." There was decision in John Dene's tone. +</P> + +<P> +"You know, Mr. Dene, you're very difficult for a girl to talk to," said +Marjorie. +</P> + +<P> +"I never had time to learn," he said simply. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"What's through me?" he demanded, hopelessly at sea as to her drift. +</P> + +<P> +"At first I thought you were working her too hard, Mr. Dene, but," she +added hastily, as if in anticipation of protest, "but—but——" +</P> + +<P> +"But what?" John Dene rapped out the words with a peremptoriness that +startled Marjorie. +</P> + +<P> +"But when you got lost——" She hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Got what?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean when you disappeared," she added hastily, "then I knew." +</P> + +<P> +"Knew what?" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You know she worried," continued Marjorie, "and she got pale and——" +Again she paused. +</P> + +<P> +John Dene continued to stare in a way that made her frightened to look +up, although she watched him furtively through her lowered lashes. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that what you came here to say?" demanded John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +A moment later Marjorie had fluttered out, closing the door behind her. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning when Dorothy arrived at the office, she found Sir +Bridgman North with John Dene, who was angry. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a way they have in the Navy. We never lose sight of anything." +</P> + +<P> +"Except the main issue, winning the war," snapped John Dene. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, we'll get on with that when we've found the spanner," laughed Sir +Bridgman good humouredly. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +John Dene grumbled something in his throat. He was still smarting +under the demands from the Stores Department to produce forthwith the +missing article. +</P> + +<P> +"Now I must be off," said Sir Bridgman, and with a nod to John Dene and +a smile to Dorothy he departed. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy was puzzled to account for his strangeness of manner, and after +a time determined that he must be ill. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +On the fourth occasion that he stood looking down at her, Dorothy +turned. +</P> + +<P> +"If you do that, I shall scream," she cried. +</P> + +<P> +He stepped back a pace, obviously disconcerted by her threat. +</P> + +<P> +"Do what?" he enquired. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry," said John Dene, as he threw himself once more into his chair. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly with an air of decision, Dorothy put down her pencil and +turning, faced him. +</P> + +<P> +"Aren't you well, Mr. Dene?" she inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he repeated with some asperity. "Of course I'm well." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" she said, disconcerted by his manner. Then for a moment there +was silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Why shouldn't I be well?" he demanded uncompromisingly. +</P> + +<P> +"No reason at all," said Dorothy indifferently, "only——" She paused. +</P> + +<P> +"Only what?" he enquired sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Only," she continued calmly, "you seem a little—a little—may I say +jumpy?" She looked up at him with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"That's it!" he exclaimed at last. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"It's—it's not the <I>Destroyer</I>" she cried breathlessly at last. +"Nothing has happened?" +</P> + +<P> +John Dene shook his head vigorously, and continued his "prancing." +</P> + +<P> +"Then what——" began Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen," he said. "I've never had any use for women," he began, then +stopped suddenly and stood looking straight at her. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"You see, I don't understand them." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +As he walked he threw staccatoed remarks from him rather than directed +them at Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"There's nothing wrong with the <I>Destroyer</I>. 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." +</P> + +<P> +He paused in front of Dorothy, expressing the last three words with +almost savage emphasis. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Instantly John Dene stopped in his walk, and stood in the middle of the +room looking over Dorothy's head. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm trying to ask you to marry me, only I haven't got the sand to do +it," he blurted out almost angrily. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" Dorothy's hands slipped into her lap, her eyes widened and her +lips parted, as she looked up at him utterly dumbfounded. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, shucks!" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"I said 'shucks'" she repeated. Her eyelids flickered a little and she +was unusually pale. +</P> + +<P> +"You mean——" His voice was far from steady. +</P> + +<P> +"I mean," said Dorothy quietly, "that a man who could invent the +<I>Destroyer</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +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: +</P> + +<P> +"We'll start right in to-morrow. I'm through with work for to-day. +I'll be over to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Then suddenly Dorothy laughed. "Was ever maid so wooed?" she murmured. +"But——" and she left it at that. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +With a determined air she pulled the sheet from the clips and read:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<PRE STYLE="margin-left: 10%"> +"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." +</PRE> + +<BR> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XXI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MARJORIE ROGERS PAYS A CALL +</H4> + +<P> +"Well, mother darling," cried Dorothy, as she jerked the pins into her +hat, "you've lost the odd trick." +</P> + +<P> +"The odd trick!" repeated Mrs. West, looking up with a smile into her +daughter's flushed and happy face. "What odd trick?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"John Dene's the odd trick," she repeated, "and I'm going to marry +him." Again she hid her face. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy!" +</P> + +<P> +"I am, mother, really and really." She looked up for a moment, then +once more she buried her face in her mother's lap. +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy dear, what do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! he was so funny when he proposed," gurgled Dorothy, "and I just +said 'shucks.' That seemed to please him." +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy dear, are you joking?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Please say you're glad," she said a little wistfully. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm—I'm so surprised, dear," said Mrs. West, stroking her daughter's +head gently; "but I'm glad, very glad." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled down at Dorothy; her eyes too were wet. +</P> + +<P> +"But oh! there's such a lot of spade work to be done," continued +Dorothy. "I shall begin with his boots." +</P> + +<P> +"His boots!" +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course you realise, dear, that he's much older than you," said Mrs. +West hesitatingly. +</P> + +<P> +"He's a perfect baby-in-arms compared with me," she smiled at her +mother, a quaint confident little smile. +</P> + +<P> +"But you're sure that—that——" Mrs. West hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy nodded her head violently. +</P> + +<P> +"When——" began Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"He was your father, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; but he wasn't before you married him." +</P> + +<P> +"Dear, you——" began Mrs. West, a flush of embarrassment mounting to +her cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy! why will you never be serious?" protested Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"I like Mr. Dene, Dorothy," said Mrs. West with a decisiveness that was +with her uncommon. +</P> + +<P> +"I know you do," said Dorothy mischievously. "That's what I'm afraid +of." +</P> + +<P> +"Dorothy dear, you mustn't," began Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Again she was back on the stool at her mother's feet. For some minutes +there was silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Mother!" She looked up with grave and serious eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"I always prayed for—for him to come back. I—I—— Oh bother!" as +the bell rang. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder who that is. We won't answer it." +</P> + +<P> +"But we must, dear," expostulated Mrs. West. "It might be a friend." +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled up at her as the girl bent to kiss her. +</P> + +<P> +"I've come to know," began Marjorie, then she hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"To know what?" asked Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"If it's all right." +</P> + +<P> +"If what's all right?" +</P> + +<P> +"J. D." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean, Rojjie?" cried Dorothy, blushing. +</P> + +<P> +"Did he propose? You know I ran in this afternoon and gave him a hint." +</P> + +<P> +"You what?" cried Dorothy aghast. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I just gave him a sort of hint that he was——" +</P> + +<P> +"You wretched little creature!" cried Dorothy, seizing Marjorie and +shaking her vigorously. There was a look in her eyes that half +frightened the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Help! Oh, Mrs. West!" cried Marjorie, "she's killing me." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you say to him?" demanded Dorothy fiercely. +</P> + +<P> +"I just gave him a hint," repeated Marjorie airily. "I knew he was in +love with you." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you say to him?" Again Dorothy shook her. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled a little uncertainly. +</P> + +<P> +"Marjorie, you're a pig," cried Dorothy, "and I don't believe you did +go and see him." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! didn't I, then why do you suppose I've got my new stockings on?" +she cried, lifting her skirts. +</P> + +<P> +"Children, children," smiled Mrs. West. +</P> + +<P> +"My chief says he'll be made a baronet, so that'll be all right for the +kids," said Marjorie. +</P> + +<P> +"Rojjie!" cried Dorothy in confusion, and a moment later she had rushed +from the room. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he going to call this evening?" she asked eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be inquisitive," cried Dorothy, conscious that she was blushing. +</P> + +<P> +"You're in love with him, Dorothy, aren't you?" persisted Marjorie. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, mother, please tread on this horrid little creature," cried +Dorothy; but Mrs. West merely smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear," said Mrs. West with quiet dignity, "you mustn't talk like +that." +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"You could probably get anything in the world except what you most +wanted, Rojjie," said Dorothy sweetly. +</P> + +<P> +"What I most wanted," repeated the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear, a good spanking." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Sooner you went?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, after dinner, I know that John Dene's coming to-night, although +Dorothy won't own up." +</P> + +<P> +"We shouldn't let you go, should we, mother?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West smiled and shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy lowered her eyes to her plate and blushed. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, please let me open the door," she cried. "I promise I won't kiss +him." +</P> + +<P> +"No, dear," said Mrs. West. "Dorothy." +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"His boots, Dorothy," whispered Marjorie a minute later. +</P> + +<P> +Dorothy looked down at John Dene's feet. The ugly American "footwear" +had been replaced by a pair of well-fitting brown boots. +</P> + +<P> +"Please, Mr. Dene, may I be a bridesmaid?" +</P> + +<P> +"Marjorie!" cried Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"I may, mayn't I?" persisted Marjorie. "I'm sure Dorothy won't ask me +unless you insist." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," replied John Dene genially. He was always a different man when +with Mrs. West and Dorothy. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"That pattern, dear," began Mrs. West, whilst Dorothy felt her cheeks +burn. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, don't you remember?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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." +</P> + +<P> +This with such a serious little air of womanly worldliness that Mrs. +West's smile almost developed into a laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you think, Mrs. West, that God must be pleased when two nice +people come together?" said Marjorie gravely. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. West looked at her with slightly widening eyes, then recovering +herself, said, "God is always glad because of happiness, dear." +</P> + +<P> +And Marjorie nodded her head as if in entire agreement with the +sentiment. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure." +</P> + +<P> +"But who said 'shucks'?" she asked, lifting her brows in an endeavour +to comprehend, "and—what are 'shucks,' Mr. Dene?" +</P> + +<P> +"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. +</P> + +<P> +She smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"She just said 'shucks.'" +</P> + +<P> +"I think she must have meant that you were too modest," said Mrs. West +softly. +</P> + +<P> +"Me modest!" John Dene sat up straight in his surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"I think that is what she must have meant." +</P> + +<P> +"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——" +</P> + +<P> +"We love you just for yourself, John," said Mrs. West gently. +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" +</P> + +<P> +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. +</P> + +<P> +"So this is what you two get up to when I leave the room," said Dorothy +severely. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," said John Dene, "and we'll be getting up to it again, won't we, +mother?" +</P> + +<P> +And John Dene smiled. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<HR> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BOOKS BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +HERBERT JENKINS +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H4> +BINDLE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Some chapters in the Life of Joseph Bindle. One of the most popular +books ever written. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE NIGHT CLUB +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Further episodes in the career of Bindle. No less than 37,000 copies +were called for within a few weeks of publication. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +ADVENTURES OF BINDLE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Still more about J. B. Two editions, completing 60,000 copies, were +ordered before the book appeared. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +MRS. BINDLE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Incidents from the life of the Bindles. Among other things it tells +how Mrs. Bindle met a bull. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE BINDLES ON THE ROCKS +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Another volume of stories of the Bindle ménage. Poor old Bindle loses +his job and hard times are endured. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +JOHN DENE OF TORONTO +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A comedy of Whitehall which struck a new note and achieved new success. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +MALCOLM SAGE, DETECTIVE +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Some chapters from the records of the Malcolm Sage Bureau. A book of +thrills and mystery. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +PATRICIA BRENT, SPINSTER +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A comedy of the times, that has stirred five continents to laughter. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE RAIN-GIRL +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A romance of to-day, telling how Richard Beresford set out to tramp the +roads as a vagabond. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE RETURN OF ALFRED +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A comedy of mis-identification by which a man is proclaimed a returned +prodigal. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE STIFFSONS +</H4> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +The troubles of Mr. and Mrs. Stiffson, and how Mr. Stiffson bought a +parrot. The book also contains other stories. +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<HR> + +<BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE HERBERT JENKINS' WIRELESS +</H2> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +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. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +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! +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +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? +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of John Dene of Toronto, by Herbert Jenkins + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN DENE OF TORONTO *** + +***** This file should be named 33277-h.htm or 33277-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/2/7/33277/ + +Produced by Al Haines, from scans obtained from The Internet Archive. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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." 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