"Then, how did you get over here? You were at Henry's weren't you, on the night the Lapland sailed? You didn't cross with us, and there's no other steamer due for two days."
"Then I can't be here," Lutchester declared. "The thing's impossible."
"Guess you'll have to explain, if you want to save me from a sleepless night," Fischer persisted.
Lutchester smiled. He had the air of one enjoying the situation immensely.
"Well," he said, "I have had to confess to Miss Van Teyl here, so I may as well make a clean breast of it to you. To every one else I meet in New York, I shall say that I came over on the Lapland. I really came over on a destroyer."
Fischer's face seemed to become more set and grim than ever.
"A British destroyer," he muttered to himself.
"It was kind of a joy ride," Lutchester explained confidentially, "a cousin of mine who was in command came in to see me and say good-by, just after I'd received my orders from the head of my department to come out here on the next steamer, and he smuggled me on board that night. Mum's the word, though, if you please. We asked nobody's leave. It would have taken about a month to have heard anything definite from the Admiralty."
"A British destroyer come across the Atlantic, eh?" Mr. Fischer muttered. "She must have come out on a special mission, then, I imagine."
"That is not for me to say," Lutchester observed, with stiff reticence.