The latter shook his head. “I’ve lost my appetite,” he growled.
The Secretary of State rose and placed his hand on the broad shoulder of the younger man. “Don’t take it so much to heart, Wyndham,” he said kindly. “We’ll get at the bottom of this tangle before long. We’ll all stand by and help you, and, remember, Chief Connor is a host in himself.”
“Thanks,” Wyndham straightened his bent shoulders; his face was set and his eyes snapped as the spirit of the born fighter returned. “I’ll move Heaven and earth until I catch that Spaniard. Must you both be going?”
“Yes.” The Secretary of State answered for Douglas as well as for himself. “We have detained you quite long enough. Let me know immediately of any new developments.”
“I will. Mr. Hunter, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, although I am afraid the information you have given me, considered with the loss of the plans of the new battleships, complicates the situation. Good-bye, come and see me again,” and the big door swung shut.
Halfway down the corridor the Secretary of State paused and regarded Douglas seriously. “Talk of complicated situations——” he passed his hand wearily over his forehead, then started with sudden resolution. “Come on, Hunter, I’m going over to the White House; a talk with the President may clear my brain. Wyndham may have lost his appetite, but he’s given us food for thought.”
[CHAPTER XI]
OVER THE TEA CUPS
CYNTHIA turned a flushed and tear-stained face toward Eleanor, as the latter entered the boudoir and approached her couch.