“On the face of it,” answered Evans, “I should say we were due in it right now. I haven’t heard the ‘inside dope,’ but I can’t conceive of our staying out much longer, all things considered.”
“Well, I trust your discretion enough to say that you have sized it up about right. There won’t be many weeks more of neutrality; and then a big load comes on our Department.”
“I should say it was a clear case,” said Evans, “that the whole game hung on our navy. While the enemy keep their fleet intact and maintain the complete control of the Mediterranean, the Northern armies can never score a decisive victory; and if the Turks are left in control of the Atlantic the attrition will all come on our side. We must establish and keep up a steady flow of supplies from both North and South America to maintain even the present status; and we must destroy their navy to win the war.”
Thus the conversation progressed to a discussion of the basic principles of naval policy and strategy, in which Mortimer, as more than once before, found himself marveling at Evans’s clearness and breadth of vision. None of the admirals at the heads of bureaus in Washington had seemed able to see things in so large a perspective; none had helped him to grasp the fundamental principles of the problem before him as this man, trained in science, yet versed in naval affairs as well.
The small cabin clock struck two-bells.
“Let’s have some lunch, Sam,” said Evans. “Take the wheel, steer as you’re going, due south, while I get the stuff out.”
He disappeared down the hatch with the nimbleness of a boy in his teens, and began to prepare a simple lunch over an alcohol stove. As Mortimer sat at the wheel with the warm wind off the Cape Cod shore fanning his cheek, he pondered over this simple child of Nature, to all appearances a college boy on a vacation, whose characterization of the crisis offered so much food for thought.
Soon Evans reappeared in the cockpit with an appetizing meal which they ate in camp style, Evans steering and eating at the same time, not appreciably to the detriment of either task. Again he left Mortimer at the wheel while he addressed himself to the task of cleaning up. When next he came on deck, he found Mortimer manifestly drowsy and a good two points off the course. The warm shore wind, the peace and quiet and the relaxation from constant strain, conspired to overcome him. Evans reached below for a pillow and placed it on the lee side.
“Here, stretch out on the cockpit seat and take a good nap,” he said.
Mortimer relinquished the wheel, and soon was fast asleep.