"Not through capturing Yeasky. He hasn't it now. You don't suppose he is enough of a fool to risk being caught with the goods, do you? He got that thing off his hands, quick."

"Transferred it! Who to?"

Armitage shrugged his shoulders.

"To Prince Koltsoff."

"Koltsoff! How do you know?"

"How do I know anything that isn't as plain as a pikestaff? Common sense! Prince Koltsoff has that thing right now." Armitage grinned.

"The n.o.ble guest of the house of Ronald Wellington playing the spy--and rather successfully. Quite an interesting society item, eh?"

Thornton did not smile.

"Look here, old man, what is your drift? Prince Koltsoff! Old boy, this is serious! It is nothing to smile about. Say, do you know what this means?"

"Oh, no!" said Armitage sarcastically. "Oh, I don't mean the loss to yourself and the Government, I mean the politics of it. Jack, every nation knows about that torpedo. You know the _attaches_ that have been snooping round here on one pretence or another since you have been working. j.a.pan knows about it; you know her situation with Russia.

Russia gets your torpedo--what's j.a.pan going to do? What will England say? How can the Government prove it was stolen? Oh, we can say so but we 'd say so anyway, would n't we? How will you look?" Thornton threw up his hands and confronted Armitage. "I tell you, Jack, it's a nasty mess. Your status in the matter will size up about like a pin point at Washington. You 've got to catch Yeasky, somehow."

"Fine, bright boy!" Armitage twisted a newspaper in his hands, broke it, and tossed the two ends away. "I don't want Yeasky, I tell you.

You 're off the track. I want Koltsoff. The secret service fellows can go after Yeasky. It's perfectly certain he turned that control over to Koltsoff, after, if not before, I held him up. He knew he was suspected. Anyway, the Russian was undoubtedly here to receive it.

Why else would he be here?"

"Anne Wellington, so the _Saunterer_ says."

Armitage turned quickly upon his friend and brother officer.

"Anne, nothing!" he fairly snarled. "I remember about Koltsoff now.

Worcester was once _attache_ at St. Petersburg and told me all about him last summer. He 's just a plain, ordinary, piking crook. But he 's up against the wrong kind of diplomacy this time. I 'll get him before he leaves Newport and choke that magnetic control out of him.

Come over to the _D'Estang_ a minute, Joe; I want to show you something. . . . Well, Mr. Jackson, cleaned out? I thought so. Thank you, I am going to be away for a few days. Don't let anything be touched, please. Let the work stop until I return. Come on, Joe."

In his cabin on the _D'Estang_, Armitage pointed to several more or less disreputable garments lying on his berth.

"Say," he said, "would a candidate for physical instructor for the Wellington boys wear such clothes?"

Thornton looked hard at his friend for a minute and then his face broadened into a huge smile of understanding. "Not if he wanted the job," he said. "You 'll make more of a hit as you are."

"All right, and now, Joe, go into the yeoman's office like a good chap, pick out a time-stained sheet of paper and typewrite a letter, signing your name as captain of the 19-- football eleven at Annapolis, saying that the bearer, Jack--Jack--who?"

"McCall," suggested Thornton.

"Yes, McCall--saying that Jack McCall had given great satisfaction as trainer for the eleven and was honest and G.o.d-fearing; you know how to do it."

"All right," said Thornton, starting for the door. He paused in the corridor. "Say, Jack, do you know you're taking all this mighty light?" He frowned. "This is serious."

Armitage frowned too.

"I know, but I 'll be serious enough before it's over, I reckon."

"You will," said Thornton dryly. "How do you expect to get the job anyway?"

Armitage shrugged his shoulders.

"Leave that to me," he said. "Oh, Joe, are you going to be on the island for supper?"

"No--not for supper," he said. "I 'll be over from Newport about eleven o'clock though."

"All right, drop aboard then, will you? I want to see you."

"Right-o," said Thornton.

For some time after his departure Armitage sat writing a doc.u.ment, covering the case to date, outlining his plans, his suspicions and the like. It turned out to be lengthy. He sealed it in an envelope, labelled it, "Armitage vs. Koltsoff," and locked it in a small safe in the yeoman's room.

One of the engineer's force came in to say that they had made progress in repairing the boiler baffle plates, designed to keep the funnels from torching when under high speed, but that they were at the point where advice was needed.

Armitage arose, put on a suit of greasy overalls, and went into the grimy vitals of the destroyer, a wrench in one hand, a chisel in the other. In about ten minutes he had solved the problem, explained it to the mechanics gathered about him, and then demonstrated just how simple the remedial measures were. All torpedo boat officers do this more often than not. It explains the blind fidelity with which the crews of craft of this sort accompany their officers without a murmur under the bows of swiftly moving battleships or through crowded ocean lanes at night without lights, with life boats aboard having aggregate capacity for about half the crew.

Armitage was alone at supper, his junior taking tea aboard a German cruiser in the harbor. With the coffee he lighted a cigar and half closed his eyes. He marvelled at the strange thrill which had possessed him since Thornton had gone. The loss of that control was something which justified the gravest fears and deepest gloom. And yet--and yet--whenever he thought about it he saw, not Yeasky, nor Koltsoff, nor the torpedo--just a tall, flexible girl, with wonderful hair and eyes and lips. He puffed impatiently at his cigar. Hang it all, he had gone to church that morning because he felt he had to see her, and the morrow had been a blank because he knew he should not be able to see her again. But now, well, it looked as though he should see her; swift blood tingled in his cheeks.

Precisely at eleven Thornton looked in. Armitage gave him the combination of the safe, told him about the letter, and explained how he expected to obtain employment. They parted at midnight.

"Good-night, Jack," said Thornton, placing his hand affectionately on his brother officer's shoulder. "Now don't forget to dodge the interference and tackle low. And if you want me, 'phone. Consider me a minute man until you return."

"Thanks," replied Armitage. "Oh, Joe, will you mail this letter to the Department?" His voice lowered as he added half humorously, "It seems almost a shame to set the dogs on a man who may prove to be a benefactor."

"What?" asked Thornton.

"Nothing; good-night, Joe."

CHAPTER X

JACK MCCALL, AT YOUR SERVICE

Armitage landed in Newport by the eight o'clock boat and calling a hack drove out to the house of the chief of police. The chief was at breakfast and came to the door with his napkin in his hand. He greeted his visitor with a broad smile of welcome.

"h.e.l.lo, Lieutenant," he said. "What's doing? Another of your boys you want turned loose?"

"Good-morning, Chief. No, not exactly. May I talk to you a minute?"

"Sure." The chief glanced about the dining room and closed the door with his foot. "Talk as much as you like."

Armitage glanced at the chief with an admiring smile. He had never ceased to wonder at the multifarious qualities which enabled the man to remain indispensable to native and cottager alike. Courteous, handsome, urbane, diplomatic, debonair, when a matron of the very highest caste sent for him to enlist his efforts in the regaining of some jewel, tiara, or piece of _vertu_, missing after a weekend, he never for a moment forgot that it was all a bit of carelessness, which the gentlest sort of reminder would correct. This is to say that he usually brought about the return of the missing article and neither of the parties between which he served as intermediary ever felt the slightest embarra.s.sment or annoyance. No wedding was ever given without consulting him as to the proper means to be employed in guarding the presents. He was at once a social register, containing the most minute and extensive data, and an _index criminis_, unabridged.

As Armitage talked, the chief's eyes lighted and he nodded his head approvingly from time to time.

"I see," he said. "It's rather clever of you. I 'll hold myself for any word. I can do more: I know Mrs. Wellington quite well. You can ask her to call me for reference if you wish. I 'll make you out a fine thug."