"Anne, nothing!" he fairly snarled. "I remember about Koltsoff now. Worcester was once attaché at St. Petersburg and told me all about him last summer. He 's just a plain, ordinary, piking crook. But he 's up against the wrong kind of diplomacy this time. I 'll get him before he leaves Newport and choke that magnetic control out of him. Come over to the D'Estang a minute, Joe; I want to show you something.… Well, Mr. Jackson, cleaned out? I thought so. Thank you, I am going to be away for a few days. Don't let anything be touched, please. Let the work stop until I return. Come on, Joe."
In his cabin on the D'Estang, Armitage pointed to several more or less disreputable garments lying on his berth.
"Say," he said, "would a candidate for physical instructor for the Wellington boys wear such clothes?"
Thornton looked hard at his friend for a minute and then his face broadened into a huge smile of understanding. "Not if he wanted the job," he said. "You 'll make more of a hit as you are."
"All right, and now, Joe, go into the yeoman's office like a good chap, pick out a time-stained sheet of paper and typewrite a letter, signing your name as captain of the 19— football eleven at Annapolis, saying that the bearer, Jack—Jack—who?"
"McCall," suggested Thornton.
"Yes, McCall—saying that Jack McCall had given great satisfaction as trainer for the eleven and was honest and God-fearing; you know how to do it."
"All right," said Thornton, starting for the door. He paused in the corridor. "Say, Jack, do you know you're taking all this mighty light?" He frowned. "This is serious."
Armitage frowned too.
"I know, but I 'll be serious enough before it's over, I reckon."