"It hasn't come to anything, has it?"
Drayton smiled and his eyes glittered. He knew what that excited gleam in Drayton's eyes meant.
"No," he said. "Not yet."
And Nicky had an awful premonition of his doom.
"Well," he said, "I believe there's something in it."
"So do I, Nicky."
Drayton went on. "I believe there's so much in it that--Look here, I don't know what put it into your head, and I'm not asking, but that idea's a dead secret. For God's sake don't talk about it. You mustn't breathe it, or it'll get into the air. And if it does my five years' work goes for nothing. Besides we don't want Germany to collar it."
And then: "Don't look so scared, old chap. I was going to tell you about it when I'd got the plans drawn."
He told him about it then and there.
"Low on the ground like a racing-car--"