exactly how much of a lunatic he was. He knew, in fact, that he was a
hard-riding, clear-thinking, high-minded Anglo-Saxon of the very best
type to be found A Rusty Old Cannon-Ball anywhere, and he smiled as he
thought of Rockstone's advice not to kick him out of the Admiralty.

With considerable show of cordiality, he invited his visitor into a
small room adjoining his large office, and sat him down at the
opposite side of a wide table.

"Lord Rockstone told me you were coming, but did not mention your
name. He is quite a chap, that Rockstone. Not what you Americans would
call a very chatty party, however. Now what can I do for you? Lord
Rockstone tells me that you have some new invention, or something of
the sort, that will help us to finish up this little scrimmage without
the loss of a single Tommy. Well, that is exactly what we are looking
for, and you American chaps are clever at thinking out new ideas. He
tells me, however, that you do not wish to sell it. Now I can
understand better than he why that part would be of no especial
interest to you; but can't we deal with a Syndicate, or a Board of
Underwriters, a Holding Company, or some of those wonderful business
combinations that you Americans devise in order to do business without
going to jail? Is the poor starving inventor some billionaire like
yourself, who works only for honour and glory? In that case we might
get an Iron Cross for him. In fact, we might get one blessed by the
Emperor himself, by Jove!"

Edestone laughed. "Well, Mr. Underhill, you cannot deny inheriting a
certain amount of American wit. I have so often heard the older
members of the Union Club tell stories of Billy Travers's witty
sayings. He must have gone the pace that kills. One of the old