“In other words, Lockyer’s boat has got to fail in her government tests?”
“You catch my meaning exactly,” said Camberly, a slow smile spreading over his heavy, coarse features. “I think we had better send for Gradbarr at once.”
Ferriss shrugged his shoulders.
“Too bad,” he sighed, an almost regretful expression coming over his face. “Lockyer is a decent young fellow, but impracticable—quite too fanatic in his ideas. I really wish we didn’t have to resort to such measures, Camberly.”
“Rot!” rejoined the other impatiently. “Isn’t it for his own good? We’ll pay him a bigger price than the government would; but business is business, and if Lockyer won’t come into camp willingly, we’ll have to drive him.”
He tapped a small bell on his desk, and to the obsequious office boy who glided in he gave a sharp order:
“Send to the yard for Tom Gradbarr. Tell him to report to me here as soon as possible.”