“Fortunately,” he went on, “in my capacity as the squadron intelligence officer, I have come here well informed of the general situation. Neither Washington nor the legation has even hinted at what you tell me. I am afraid your son has been imposed upon, or that his mind is not yet clear. You must also remember that Colonel Henriquez’s conduct would contribute to your son’s sensational denunciations.”
“Then you would not consent to send a radio through to the admiral, outlining these reports?” Stanley Graydon broke in impulsively. “It would be of untold value if the squadron should cruise down this way and be on hand for any developments.”
“I would hardly care to endanger my reputation in the service by any such ill-timed action,” came the curt reply. “A man’s reputation in the service means a great deal more to him, Mr. Graydon, than a civilian could possibly comprehend.”
There was unmistakable menace in that blunt ultimatum. It would have been a lethal blow to Stanley Graydon’s pride should Dixon choose to denounce him to the old don who had learned to lean so heavily upon him. His eyes flashed, but he took the rebuke standing up.
Through the dinner Dixon carried the difficult situation with an aplomb that wrested grudging admiration from him. Dixon had always been an enigma to him. Gifted far beyond the average, reticent and cold-blooded to a degree, he had held aloof from the heated discussions of the wardroom. This evening, despite the rebuff he had administered, he chose to talk of out-of-the-way ports, of international affairs, of his destroyer duty in the North Sea, and he held them under his charm.
Behind it all, however, the brusque rejection of their impassioned pleas rankled deeply. It seemed beyond belief that he could dismiss so lightly the menace to Ramona Bay.
In the morning Dixon joined him on his daily inspection. His questions were to the point, his approval free and ungrudging, as Stanley Graydon showed him the precautions that had been carried out with an iron hand. Through it all he held a fatalistic scorn for the menace of cholera, so far as he was concerned. For the first time he referred to their service on the flagship.
“Sorry, Graydon, about that row we had aboard ship. Personally I am no purist, but I am a fatalist. Seen many a fine chap make a damaging slip in his career. That was due to something beyond his control. I’ve got over the angry resentment that swept over me that night. I should perhaps have let it go. Talked it over frankly, brutally, with you afterward.”
“So you still think I cheated at cards!”
“I may have treated you unjustly, Graydon. Still, the admiral gave you every chance to clear yourself. Let’s try another tack. I always admired your professional ability. I admire the way you’re handling this tough job down here, and the way you hold your head up. I am willing to admit that, in spite of the most damning evidence, you may be innocent. Here’s hoping you can prove it.”