“Just arrived via Panama,” explained General Long. “Let’s get on the sidewalk, Dick. I didn’t come to Washington to be knocked down by a dray horse,” and he dragged his still bewildered friend to the curb. “Come into the Willard and lunch with me. I’m half dead with hunger.”
“Now,” said Dick, after they had done justice to the Martinis, “give an account of yourself, past, present and future.”
“Past—Philippines; present—here; future—God knows!” General Long sighed as he helped Dick and himself to the tempting dish in front of him. “It’s good to taste Christian cooking once again. Don’t insult good food by hurrying too much, Dick; take your time. At present I’ve come here on waiting orders.”
Dick inwardly wondered what necessity had induced the War Department to send for Chester Long. A man of exceptional executive ability and personal bravery, he had been rapidly advanced over the heads of older officers, to their unspeakable rage, until finally he had been appointed second in command in the Philippines. He had made a record for himself out there, and Dick was astounded that his recall should have been kept so profound a secret.
“How did you slip away without the papers getting on?” he asked.
“Orders from the Department hushed things up pretty well, and then I traveled incog. The why and the wherefore, I may—guess—” he smiled quietly. “Now, Dick, give an account of yourself.”
It did not take long in the telling, as the two friends had never completely lost sight of each other, and mutual friends had kept them in touch with their doings. General Long was Dick’s senior by some fifteen years, but since the days of the Spanish war in Cuba, where Dick was sent as war correspondent, they had been sworn allies.
“I’m dreadfully shocked about the Trevor murder,” said Long, after Dick had finished speaking of himself. “The papers are filled with it. Gordon is the last person I’d think capable of so dastardly a crime. While at Annapolis, where he was a three-striper, he was voted the most popular man, and the one most likely to succeed. He never lied, and he never went back on a friend. Since his graduation his record in the Service has been fine, fine. And now, to have such a charge against him! How have the mighty fallen! Poor Gordon—poor devil!”
“Things look pretty black for him,” admitted Dick. “But still the evidence is not absolutely conclusive, simply circumstantial.”
“In what way?”