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