"Mr. Dene hit upon a clever ruse," continued Sage, "and----"

"But the advertis.e.m.e.nts! Did you know this at the time?"

"It was known at Department Z., sir, and the advertis.e.m.e.nts were to convince the Hun of our eagerness to find John Dene so that we might start operations."

"I see, I see," cried Mr. Llewellyn John; "but how on earth did you ferret all this out?"

"We just sat down, sir, and waited for the other side to make mistakes," said Malcolm Sage quietly, "just as the Opposition does in the House of Commons," he added slyly.

And Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.

"It was better to say nothing about the Finlay business," said Malcolm Sage, as he and Colonel Walton walked back to St. James's Square.

"It's results they're concerned with."

Colonel Walton nodded. "We must see John Dene, however," he said.

"If only for the good of his own soul," said Sage, as he knocked his pipe against a railing.

CHAPTER XIX

COMMANDER JOHN DENE GOES TO BOURNEMOUTH

I

Late one afternoon when Dorothy and Mrs. West were walking along the Christchurch Road on their way back to the boarding-house for dinner, Dorothy suddenly gave vent to an exclamation, and with both hands clutched her mother's arm so fiercely that she winced with the pain.

"Look, mother," she cried, "it's----"

Following the direction of her daughter's eyes Mrs. West saw walking st.u.r.dily towards them on the other side of the road, a man in the uniform of a naval commander. In his mouth was a cigar, from which he was puffing volumes of smoke. With a little cry Mrs. West recognised him. It was John Dene of Toronto.

There was no mistaking that truculent, aggressive air of a man who knows his own mind, and is determined that every one else shall know it too.

Suddenly Dorothy released her mother's arm and, running across the road, planted herself directly in John Dene's path.

"Mr. Dene!" she cried, when he was within a yard or two of her.

Several pa.s.sers-by turned their heads. For a fraction of a moment John Dene gazed at the apparition in front of him, not recognising Dorothy in the white frock and large hat that shaded her eyes. Then with what was to him a super-smile, he held out his hand.

"Say, this is bully," he cried, giving Dorothy a grip that caused her to wince. "I've just been to your apartment-house and found you out."

Then catching sight of Mrs. West, "Why, there's your mother," he cried and, gripping Dorothy's arm with an enthusiasm that she was convinced would leave bruises, he guided her across the road. A moment later Mrs. West was having the greatest difficulty in preserving a straight face under John Dene's vigorous greeting.

"I've been chasing all over Robin Hood's barn to find you," he cried, still clasping Mrs. West's hand.

"And according to the papers other people have been doing the same with you," said Dorothy, deciding in her own mind that John Dene ought to spend the rest of his life in uniform. It gave him a distinction that hitherto he had lacked in the ill-cut and ill-made clothes he habitually wore.

"I found these waiting for me at my hotel," he said, looking down at himself, as if divining her thoughts. "I ordered them way back," he added.

"You look very nice, Mr. Dene," said Mrs. West, smiling happily. She had not yet recovered from her surprise.

"All the girls are turning and envying mother and me," said Dorothy mischievously.

"Envying you?" John Dene turned upon her a look of interrogation.

"For being with you," she explained.

For some reason John Dene's face fell. Mrs. West hastened to the rescue.

"We've all been so anxious about you," she smiled. "We--we thought----"

"And shall I get twenty thousand pounds if I give you up to a policeman?" asked Dorothy. She felt she wanted to cry from sheer happiness.

"Reward's withdrawn. Haven't you seen the papers?" he said practically; "but they nearly did for Jim," he added inconsequently.

"Jim!" repeated Dorothy. "Who is Jim?"

"My brother," was the reply. "He took my place and I went north."

"Oooooooh!" Gradually light was dawning upon Dorothy. "Then it wasn't you who forgot where the stamps were kept and," she added wickedly, "seemed to disapprove of me so."

"Disapprove of _you_!" John Dene managed to precipitate such a wealth of meaning into the words that Dorothy felt herself blushing furiously.

Even Mrs. West appeared a little embarra.s.sed at his directness.

"Here, it's about time we had some food," he said, turning his wrist to see the time.

"We were just going home to dinner," said Mrs. West. "Won't you come with us?"

"I want you to come right along to my hotel. I've booked a table for you."

"That's not very complimentary to our attractiveness, Mr. Dene," said Dorothy.

Again John Dene turned to her with a puzzled look in his eyes.

"You should have a.s.sumed that two such desirable people as mother and me were dining out every night, shouldn't he, mother?"

John Dene turned to Mrs. West, his brows meeting in a frown of uncertainty.

"Dorothy will never be serious," she explained with a little sigh.

"She's only joking," whereat John Dene's face cleared, and without further ado he hailed a taxi. As Sir Bridgman North had said, John Dene never waited to be contradicted.

That evening many of the diners at the Imperial turned their heads in the direction of a table at which sat a man in the uniform of a naval commander, a fair-haired girl and a little white-haired lady, the happiness of whose face seemed to arouse responsive smiles in those who gazed at her.

Slowly and haltingly John Dene told of what had happened since that Wednesday night some three months before when his brother had taken his place. Although John Dene never hesitated when telling of what he was going to do, he seemed to experience considerable difficulty in narrating what he had actually done.

"And aren't you happy?" enquired Dorothy, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the story of what the _Destroyer_, her _Destroyer_, had done.