Mr. Blair looked up from his writing-table with a startled expression as John Dene burst into his room. In entering a room John Dene gave the impression of first endeavouring to break through the panels, and appearing to turn the handle only as an afterthought. "Trailed," repeated Mr. Blair in an uncomprehending manner. John Dene stood looking down at him accusingly, as if he were responsible. "Yes, trailed, watched, tracked, shadowed, followed, bumped-into, trodden-on," snapped John Dene irritably. He was annoyed that a man occupying an important position should not be able to grasp his meaning without repetition. "You know anything about it?" he demanded. Mr. Blair merely shook his head. "He in?" John Dene jerked his head in the direction of Sir Lyster's room. "He's--he's rather busy," began Mr. Blair. "Oh, shucks!" cried John Dene, and striding across to the door he passed into Sir Lyster's room. "Morning," he cried, as Sir Lyster looked up from his table. "Someone's following me around again," he announced, "and I want to know whether it's you or them." "Me or who?" queried Sir Lyster. "Whether it's some of your boys, or the other lot." After a moment's reflection Sir Lyster seemed to grasp John Dene's meaning. "I'll make enquiry," he said suavely. "Well, you might suggest that it doesn't please me mightily. I don't like being trailed in this fashion, so if it's any of your boys just you whistle 'em off." "I doubt if you would be aware of the fact if we were having you shadowed, Mr. Dene," said Sir Lyster quietly, "and in any case it would be for your own safety." "When John Dene can't take care of himself," was the reply, "he'd better give up and start a dairy." "How is the _Destroyer_ progressing?" enquired Sir Lyster with the object of changing the conversation. "Fine," was the reply. "Your man had better be ready on Friday. One of my boys'll pick him up, Jim Grant's his name." "Sir Goliath Maggie has appointed Commander Ryles," said Sir Lyster. "Well, let him be ready by Friday. Grant'll pick him up on his way north. Your man can't mistake him, little chap with red hair all over him. Don't forget to call off your boys;" and with that John Dene was gone. Ten minutes later Sir Bridgman North found the First Lord sitting at his table, apparently deep in thought. "I can see John Dene's been here," laughed Sir Bridgman. "You and Blair both show all the outward visible signs of having been 'gingered-up.'" Sir Lyster smiled feebly. He felt that Sir Bridgman was wearing the joke a little threadbare. "He's been here about one of his men picking up Ryles on his way to Auchinlech," said Sir Lyster. "A little man with red hair all over him was his description." "That seems pretty comprehensive," remarked Sir Bridgman. "He'd better go right through and pick up Ryles at Scapa. They'll probably appreciate him there. It's rather dull for 'em."