“When do I get my instructions for tonight?”
“Late this afternoon, probably. I’ll get them to you somehow.”
“Thanks. And here’s something else. This script I’m going to type for Mrs. L. has to do with the properties of a highly explosive gas which seems to burn up everything it comes in contact with and lets off fumes of deadly poison while it’s doing that! Shall I make a copy for you?”
“Please do!” His hand rested on the doorknob. “Yes, it’s important that we have a copy. That’s the stuff Doctor Winn has just invented, without a doubt.”
“Awful!” exclaimed Dorothy. “Just think what would happen if that were used in a war!”
“That’s the government’s business, Miss Dixon.”
“‘Ours but to do—and die—’” she quoted and her tone was deadly serious.
“Quite right. But make the carbon copy just the same—and don’t let them catch you at it.”
“I won’t, Mr. Tunbridge.”
“Bye-bye, then. I’ll get along now. There may be some home truths floating out of the library that will give me extra dope on the du-Val—Lawson pair.”