In a few minutes an old gentleman, with snow white hair and moustache and ruddy cheeks, entered. He was faultlessly, almost nattily, dressed and he had an alertness about him which suggested that he might have discovered the fountain of eternal youth, whose source had been so vainly sought by the gallant Ponce de Leon. "That's the Admiral," whispered Joe to Barry from his secluded corner of the leather sofa. "What? The real Admiral?" "Sure." "Where's his cocked hat and his sword and his uniform?" "Oh, say," cried Joe, disgusted at such evident lack of knowledge, "he doesn't wear them in his office." "Where does he wear them?" "When he's fighting--on the quarter deck of his flagship." "He doesn't look like a fighter." This was too much for Mr. Joseph Hart. He stuffed his handkerchief in his mouth to keep from screaming. He butted his head against the cushioned back of the sofa, and he performed various other silent, but none the less effective, gymnastic exercises. After he had exhausted his merriment, he turned to the Cleverly boy and said, reproachfully: "Can he fight? Why that man sunk the entire navy of a great European nation in about twenty minutes." "Twenty minutes?" gasped Barry, awe stricken. "It was less than that," cried Joe, following up his advantage, "it happened this way. The Admiral was taking breakfast in the cabin of his vessel with some friends. He took a sip of his coffee and then said, 'please excuse me.' He went up on deck, and in a few minutes he returned to finish his coffee, saying, 'ha, I'm glad that's done.'" "What had he done?" asked Barry. "Sunk the Spanish navy." "He doesn't act like a ferocious man." "Real fighters never do," said Joe. In the meantime the newcomer had joined the Secretary of the Navy and had been presented to the Congressman and the journalist. He was asked to examine the plans. He did so, at first in a perfunctory manner. But presently he became interested, and went over the blue prints with greater care. Finally he began to ask questions. "Where would you put the dry dock?" he queried. "Right there," replied the Congressman, indicating the spot with the tip of his little finger. "This looks as if it might be a fresh water basin," suggested the Admiral. "It is." "And yet you are near the ocean." "Within two miles of it." Presently the Admiral finished his inspection of the plans. He leaned back in his chair, with his eyes half closed. The other three men looked at him intently. His expert opinion was of the highest value. "Well," said the Secretary, finally, "what do you think of it?" "Splendid," was the reply. "It looks as if it had been carved by nature for our present needs." Five minutes later the Congressman was on his way back to the Capitol. He was bubbling over with good humor. He put his hand on Barry Wynn's shoulder: "We've got a bully start, Barry," he said. "I do believe you're going to be my mascot." CHAPTER III THE NEW PAGE