CHAPTER IX

ARMITAGE CHANGES HIS VOCATION

Half an hour after the incident at Trinity, Armitage hurried from the

little ferry boat which had just landed him at the Torpedo Station and

made his way to the house of the storekeeper, who was out, of course.

He had gone to Providence, his wife said, and would return about four

o'clock.

Armitage took the key to the shops, only to find when he entered that

the storekeeper's books were in the safe, the combination to which he

did not know. This by no means improved his temper and he began to

blunder about the office in a dragnet search. Finally, when he found

himself kicking over chairs which were in his way in his aimless

course, the humor of the situation came to him. He sat down upon a

tool chest and laughed aloud.

Clearly, there was nothing for him to do in the absence of

Jackson--except go to his dinner; which he did. A few minutes before

three o'clock, he went to the office again and sat down to wait for

Yeasky. He gave the man half an hour overtime and then nodded grimly

and dismissed any lingering notion he might have entertained concerning

his honesty.

When the storekeeper appeared some time later, Armitage was still at

his desk idly drawing diagrams on a pad.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "I hate to bother you to-day, but things have

happened which seem to make it necessary to check those parts now--"

Armitage arose briskly.

The storekeeper waved his hands.

"Oh, I checked them up this morning," he said.

"Everything straight?" snapped Armitage.

"Why--yes," Jackson fumbled in his desk. "Here is the sheet."

Armitage seized it and glanced up and down the various items.

"Bully work, Mr. Jackson!" He looked up with a sigh of relief.

"Everything seems correct. George! That takes a load off my mind.

Let's see." He went down the list with his finger. "I understand you,

don't I?" he said, handing the sheet to the storekeeper.

"Understand?"

"I mean, this is a list taken from the tally sheet of parts, all of

which you have found to be in the office? In other words," he added

rapidly, "everything that appears on this sheet is now, at the present

time, inside this office?"

"Yes--everything, except--" the storekeeper paused an instant, looking

at Armitage with sudden doubt.

"Except what?" cried the officer impatiently.

"Why, that special core of the magnetic control. You have that,

haven't you? It is n't in the shop."

"Is n't in the shop! Well, where the devil is it then?"

"Why," exclaimed the storekeeper, "no one ever handled that but you.

Not even Yeasky. You never let any one even see it. I remember how

careful you have been about that."

"I know," Armitage rose from his chair. "But it was never out of the

shop. It was always in the big safe. Have you looked there?" He

turned to Jackson hopefully.

But the storekeeper shook his head.

"Are you sure you have looked everywhere?"

"It is not in the shop--I thought sure you must have it. Does it--was

it vitally important?"

"Important!" Armitage threw himself into a chair and put his feet on

the desk. "Well, Jackson, I fancy you might call it so. Damn!"

The storekeeper whistled.

"I shall have the rooms of the workmen searched."

"Just one room, please; and quickly, will you?" rejoined Armitage,

"Yeasky's. He is the only man who would have known its value. Give my

compliments to the superintendent and ask him for some one to help you."

As the storekeeper departed, Joe Thornton entered the office.

"Any luck, Jack?"

"Rotten! The magnetic control of the model is gone. I was right this

morning and you were wrong, Joe. Yeasky got it. Why did n't I keep my

hands on him, when I had him! Something told me to."

"The deuce!" Thornton regarded his friend with a grave face. "Is it

very serious? Does it give the whole snap away?"

"It gives about ninety per cent more away than pleases me. It would

take some genius long nights of labor to supply the other ten per cent

even with the aid of the plans which no doubt Yeasky has copied. That

is, there are one or two things that I kept off the paper--kept in my

head." He paced up and down the floor. "But other men have heads,

too. That thing has got to be returned, the quicker the better."

"Well," Thornton smiled encouragingly. "Yeasky can't get out of the

country--and he 'll be caught before he dopes the thing out. Even if

he has mailed or expressed it, it can be held up before it leaves this

country. You had the control in the model torpedo last night. Have

you wired?"

"I 've sent a general call to the secret service for him, to Boston,

New York, and Washington. They are holding the telegrams, as long as

letters, at the telegraph office for release. I 've also a wire to the

Department on file, telling what has happened. I wrote before I knew

what was gone, so I would n't have to lie in case he took what he did

take."

"Yes," agreed Thornton, "there is no use in letting on how bad it

really is."

Thornton was growing quite optimistic.

"Yeasky can't get away; you 'll have the thing back here within three

days."

Armitage smiled.

"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 noble 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 _attachés_ that have

been snooping round here on one pretence or another since you have been

working. Japan knows about it; you know her situation with Russia.

Russia gets your torpedo--what's Japan 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 _attaché_ 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 God-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 document,

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."

Prince or Chauffeur? A Story of Newport · 第 9 / 26 章