“Well, you know, the French claim that the Englishman is wont to remark, ‘By Jove, a fine day; let’s go out and kill something.’ Now, I am going to parody that and say, ‘It’s a fine day, let’s blow up something!’”
“Blow up the Vesper,” cried Tubby.
“That’s it. If we can hit her. I’ve a notion to try it myself. By Jove, I will,” went on the officer, warming to his subject. “I want badly to try out a new cordite bomb we’ve been making this winter, and here’s my chance.”
“Good-bye, old Vesper,” breathed Rob, tragically, extending his arm in the direction in which the two melancholy-looking bare masts of the schooner could be seen looming up.
“Don’t say good-bye yet,” chuckled the officer; “I might miss her.”
The War Department had lost no time in replying to Lieutenant Duvall’s message describing the boys’ courage and enterprise in securing the papers stolen from the shattered safe. It was brought to the officer by an orderly almost as soon as they reached the De Regny place.
“Shall I read it out?” asked the officer, with a smile. “It’ll make your ears burn.”
The boys began to protest, much to the amusement of several officers gathered in what had once been the dining room of the old mansion, but Lieutenant Duvall nevertheless read in a loud, clear voice the following:
“You are instructed to thank lads mentioned in dispatch on behalf of the Secretary of War. Splendid work. More substantial reward (the Special Honor Medal) will follow. Hills, secretary to the Secretary of War.”
“Wow!” breathed Tubby, and then turned very red as a perfect gale of laughter followed his sincere expression of amazement, gratitude and delight—all rolled into one.