"Your turn," he said, and stabbed a thumb at the knob. "Maybe you'll have better luck." Freddy shrugged, cast a quick apprehensive look back over his shoulder at the man reading the book, and then turned the knob and pushed open the door. And he did have better luck. The room they entered was huge in size, and it contained so much stuff, and so many things, that it was impossible for either Dave or Freddy to concentrate on anything for several seconds. But by that time a tall, thin-faced man in shirt sleeves had risen from a desk and come over. "Glad to meet you, Dawson and Farmer," he said in a quiet but warm voice. "I'm Colonel Welsh. Come in. We've been waiting for you." If the man had introduced himself as Santa Claus Dave couldn't have been more dumbfounded. Colonel Welsh was the man who made U. S. Army and Navy Intelligence click. He was in charge of the intelligence work of both services, and--in a vastly different way, of course--he had as much power in the United States as Himmler had in Nazi Germany. Perhaps no more than a dozen people knew what he was, for he acted as a colonel of infantry as well. But that job was simply a cover for his real work. He was seen and known as Colonel Welsh, of infantry, but few people knew that he was the same mysterious Colonel Welsh who was in charge of all U. S. Intelligence. But it wasn't so much meeting the man that caused Dave to gasp and stare hard as it was the man's looks. His thin face had a nice smile, but beyond that you somehow didn't expect him even to know the time of day. The eyes had a dreamy, almost vacant look in their depths, the lips of the mouth had a dopey downward droop, and the chin was too pointed, and sort of too country parson looking. "That's all right," the man suddenly said with a chuckle. "I've had this face all my life, so I'm used to it. Don't worry, I won't bite you." Dave flushed to the roots of his hair and heartily wished there were a hole in the floor into which he could jump. "I'm sorry, sir," he managed to stammer. "You see--well, Farmer and I have been going around in circles ever since we left England. And--well, it's sort of caught us off balance, if you know what I mean." "I understand perfectly," the U. S. Intelligence chief said kindly. "Coming here must make a fellow feel he is acting out one of those crazy pulp paper thrillers. You know: secret doors, and special code-words. Well, we're not as bad as that. However, we find it does help to play just a little on the mysterious side. These are the offices we use when we have work to do. Those over in the War Department Building are just for show. Fact is, I personally would go crazy with all the silly trimmings they have over there. But pardon me. I want you to meet my comrades in this daffy business."