"Thanks; I may as well register at once," replied the spy, not that he wanted to take the trouble to do so, but because he had ulterior motives.
In a bold hand he made the perfunctory declaration:—"George Fennelburt, Captn. R.A.F.; business—on duty; where stationed —Sheerness; name of Commanding Officer—Lieut.-Colonel H. B. L. Greathooks, O.B.E."
"Silly lot of rot, sir," remarked the porter, "giving a gent no end of trouble. If you was to put down 'Julius Caesar' or 'Christopher Columbus' I don't see as how it 'ud matter."
"It's regulations, you know," said von Preussen, handing the fellow half a crown. "Now get me a glass of something hot and a snack. I'm hungry."
The porter hurried off to execute the commission, pondering in his mind on the inconsistency of the officer, who almost in one breath had upheld the regulations and had broken them in the matter of obtaining liquor during prohibited hours.
Seizing his opportunity during the man's absence, von Preussen scanned the pile of registration forms lying on the reception clerk's desk. It behoved him to ascertain "who's who" with regard to the naval, military and air officers staying at the hotel—particularly the latter, as he had no desire to meet anyone hailing from Sheerness or Isle of Grain air stations.
Satisfied on that point, the spy went to bed, apologising for the muddy state of his boots by stating that he had missed the last train from Nedderburn, and had been compelled to walk to Auldhaig.
He slept soundly till close on eleven in the morning. At noon, spick and span, he made his way to Auldhaig Dockyard, with the plausible intention of inspecting X-lighters, but with the real object of keeping his ears and eyes open.
Noon was a well-chosen time. The dockyard "maties" had knocked off work for dinner, while the officials, with the prospects of lunch in the near distance, would almost certainly request the pseudo-Captain Fennelburt to call again at three. That meant, once inside the dockyard gates, the spy had three hours in which to make useful observations.
The first official he called upon was the Senior Naval Officer, who, forgetting that the X-barges had left early that morning in the charge of Sub-lieutenant Jock McIntosh, R.N.V.R., referred Captain Fennelburt to the Captain of the Dockyard. That individual, who had a dim recollection that the craft in question were in his charge and were about to be handed over to the Royal Air Force, requested the soi-disant representative of that branch of the Service to inquire of the Chief Writer. The Chief Writer, about to go to lunch, summoned the Head Messenger, who in turn told off a messenger to accompany Captain Fennelburt on his search for the elusive X-lighters.