Lavendale withdrew his eyes from his new acquaintance's face for a moment and glanced towards the girl. Something that was almost a smile of mutual understanding flashed between them. Doubtless she had overheard some part of their conversation. Lavendale raised his voice a little in order that she might hear more. He felt a thrill of pleasure at the thought that they were establishing a mutual confidence. 'I'll help, of course,' he promised. 'In what direction are your efforts to be made?' The little man paused in the act of drinking a glass of water, squinted at his questioner, and set the tumbler down empty. 'Wondering what sort of a crank you've got hold of, eh?' Lavendale began to be impressed. The little man did not look in the least like a lunatic. 'Well, it's rather a sweeping proposition, yours,' Lavendale remarked. 'Everything in the world,' the other reminded him didactically, 'was impossible before it was done. Your help needn't be very strenuous. I guess there's some sort of headquarters in London from which this war is run, eh?' 'There's the War Office,' Lavendale explained. 'Know any one there?' 'Yes, I know a good many soldiers who have jobs there just now.' 'Then I guess you can help by saving me time. Do you happen to be acquainted with any one in the Ordnance Department?' Lavendale reflected for a moment. 'Yes, I know a man there,' he admitted. 'It's just as well to warn you, though, that they're absolutely fed up with trying new shells and powder.' The little man smiled--a queer, reflective smile, filled with some quality of self-appreciation which seemed at once to lift him above the whole world of crazy inventors. 'Your friend there now,' he asked, 'or will he be taking his British two hours for lunch?' 'He never leaves the building after he gets there in the morning,' Lavendale replied. Mr. Daniel H. Hurn signed his bill and laid down an insignificant tip. 'You through with your luncheon?' he inquired. 'Right! Then what about taking me along and letting me have a word with your friend?' 'I don't mind,' Lavendale agreed, a little doubtfully, 'but he hasn't very much influence.' Again the other smiled, and again Lavendale was impressed by that mysterious contortion. He glanced towards the adjoining table. The girl was still watching them closely. Jules, whom she had apparently just summoned, was standing by her side, and Lavendale was convinced that the questions which she was obviously asking, referred to him. He left the room with reluctance and followed his companion through the hall and into a taxi. 'Not sure whether I told you,' the latter remarked, as he seated himself, 'that my name is Hurn--Daniel H. Hurn--and I come from way out west.' 'Glad to meet you, Mr. Hurn,' Lavendale murmured mechanically. 'You are not taking anything with you to show the people at the War Office, then?' Mr. Hurn shook his head.