"You mean----"

"That I intend to cinch that government business."

"But what if, as you fear, the Prescotts have a superior aeroplane?"

"My dear Mortlake," the pin-point eyes almost closed, and the thin,
bloodless lips drew together in a tight line, "if they have a superior
machine, we must arrange so that nobody but ourselves is ever aware of
the fact."

With a throaty gurgle, that might, or might not, have been meant for a
chuckle, the old man glided through the doors, which, by this time, he had
reached, and sliding rather than stepping into his machine, gave the
chauffeur some orders. Mortlake, a peculiar expression on his face, looked
after the car as it chugged off and then turned and re-entered the shop.
His head was bent, and he seemed to be lost in deep thought.




CHAPTER III.

A NAVAL VISITOR


Roy had departed, on an errand, for town. Peggy, indolently enjoying the
perfect drowsiness of noonday, was reclining in a gayly colored hammock
suspended between two regal maple trees on the lawn. In her hand was a
book. On a taboret by her side was a big pink box full of chocolates.