"And how progresses the new type of searchlight, Señor Strong?" inquired Don Ramon. "I should like to see what you are doing in that direction."
"It is not progressing to the extent I should like," was the reply. "In fact, there are one or two important details that have completely baffled me. Of course, if you would like to see how far I've got with the design——"
"No, no," said Don Ramon. "It is not really necessary. When you have overcome the difficulties, then it will be a different matter."
"Quite so," agreed Uncle Brian with well-feigned disinterestedness. "After all, there's nothing much to be seen. If and when the apparatus is perfected—when I've tested it thoroughly and am satisfied that it fulfils all that is required of it—then, no doubt, you will be willing to negotiate for the exclusive rights say for one year."
This conversation had the desired result. It put Don Ramon off the scent. He was not keenly interested in an improved searchlight. Those the republic already possessed were of a particularly powerful type and sufficient for defence purposes. He begrudged the time the Englishman spent in the work, but, he reasoned, a refusal on the part of the Rioguayan authorities to allow Brian Strong to experiment in that line might probably result in the foreigner "cutting up rough" and refusing to proceed with his aerial work. That, for the present, would never do. Until the El Toro works could be run independently—without the aid and supervision of Brian Strong—it was policy to humour the unsuspecting Englishman.
One evening at dinner, Uncle Brian suddenly inquired of his nephew:
"Are you under any obligation to the Admiralty, Peter? Have they any call upon you?"
"I signed a paper stating my willingness to serve in the event of hostilities," replied Peter. "I fancy we all did—those who were pushed out under the so-called economy stunt."
"Humph!" ejaculated Uncle Brian. "It seems to me that signing the document is unnecessary. If it came to a scrap, or even the suggestion of a scrap, you young fellows would clamour to be in it—and the older men too. I remember after the Boer War there were hundreds of men 'fed up' with their treatment at the hands of the War Office. They had good cause for complaint, too. 'Wait till the next war,' they said, 'and we'll take precious good care to be out of it.' But did they? The majority were amongst the first to volunteer. That's the Briton all over. He'll grouse, but if danger threatens from without, he'll be there! And the greater the danger the greater the enthusiasm to meet it.... Peter, my boy, you'll be more useful to your country out here than at home—or even in the navy. Come along; let's take a stroll as far as my experimental shed."
Nothing loth, Peter fell in with the suggestion. He was curious to know the secret that the experimental shed held. His uncle had hinted at something very mysterious, but beyond that he was dumb.