"Congratulations, Powart! Everything coming along all right?"
Powart gave Fort one of his piercing looks, but showed no sign of irritation as he replied: "All reports satisfactory. We shall have our little fireworks promptly on the second." Then to Mona: "Sorry I cannot invite you aboard my ship; but I shall be so occupied with the ceremonial end of this, you know, that—"
"Of course," instantly. "I would really be in the way; and I shouldn't care to be that, to-day of all days."
And Van Emmon, through Powart's eyes, judged that the dictator stood mountain-high in her respect at that instant.
Fort listened with the utmost indifference, seeming to take a boy's rapt interest in the spectacle below him rather than in the affair at his elbow. He glanced at his watch and remarked: "Less than half an hour now. I can hardly wait!"
Mona eyed him speculatively. "What did you mean, just now, about your success depending upon Mr. Powart's?"
"Just that," he returned lightly. "Why, if he fails, my little scheme is a miserable fiasco! I shan't be able to marry you at all; that is, unless you grant an extension!"
Mona did not respond to his levity.
"I wish you'd be serious!" she rebuked him. "Just think what this affair means!"
He pretended to be thoughtful. "Oh, to Alma, you mean! Yes, indeed; the folks will be badly upset, I imagine, if the projectile actually reaches their roof."