“That’s just it,” said Evans. “You don’t suppose you could go aboard the ships as Mr. Secretary and see things as they really are, do you? Every one would be in his best uniform, full dress, at attention, the band playing and nothing doing; no war going on at all.”
“That’s so,” said Mortimer; “but I’m afraid your fondness for tinkering with apparatus will lead you to do too much of that, and distract you from the bigger problems you ought to be thinking about.”
“I know that’s my vice,” answered Evans, “but the appeal of the game as a whole will draw my thoughts in that direction to the extent of daydreams quite bold enough for all practical purposes—bold enough to make the gold braid snub me good and plenty if they knew what I was thinking about. I need some manual work to keep me normal, to occupy my hands and lower nerve centers while I’m thinking about some of the knotty problems that come up. Some tangible part of the machinery in my hands and before my eyes will help the whole plan of its use to take shape in my mind.”
For some time they argued the pros and cons, and at last Mortimer somewhat reluctantly yielded and consented to let Evans return to the fleet as a radio gunner.
It was also decided that in the near future Commander Barton should proceed to Punta Delgada to direct the work of the Bureau of Naval Intelligence there, since it had now definitely become the storm-center of naval activity.
During the days that remained before Evans was to return to the fleet, he was kept busy completing the new systems of secret codes for Commander Barton, and conferring with various officials in the Bureau of Engineering and in the office of the Director of Naval Communications. In the latter office he had many conversations with Lieutenant Wellman, and with each conversation he became more interested in the man, seeing in him great possibilities in connection with the coördinated machinery of communications and Naval Intelligence. It transpired that Wellman had traveled extensively, was an accomplished linguist, and possessed considerable knowledge of enemy country. It was, therefore, suggested that he should confer with Commander Barton to see how far his qualifications might render him useful to the Bureau of Naval Intelligence.
On the particular morning when Lieutenant Wellman was awaiting this conference, Evans came to Barton’s office with some copies of one of his new secret codes, fresh from the printer. Leading to the inner office was an anteroom at the outer door of which stood a sentry whose duty it was to see that none but officers and others with proper credentials entered. Evans came with the bundle of code books under his arm, and muttered a password to the sentry, who pressed a button just inside the door, at which Commander Barton rose from his desk in the inner office and came to the door between it and the anteroom. Seeing Evans at the outer door, he called to him to come in. In the anteroom sat Lieutenant Wellman waiting till it should suit Commander Barton’s convenience to confer with him; as he sat there his dark, penetrating eyes traveled restlessly about the room observing and noting everything that human observation could encompass. Evans, seeing Wellman alone there, exchanged greetings with him, and passed on into the inner office. He opened the bundle and handed the six books it contained to Barton.
Wellman, following Evans with his eye, silently shifted his seat so that he could watch the proceedings through the half-open door.
Barton took the books and thanked Evans, who then left the room. Barton opened one of the books and glanced through it rather hastily, postponing a more careful examination till he should have more time. Then he unlocked a drawer in his desk and put the six books into it. He was just closing the drawer when a yeoman entered from a side door rather hurriedly, saying:
“There’s a long-distance call from San Francisco; your desk phone is being repaired, so I’ve had the call plugged into the sound-proof booth.”