Prince or Chauffeur? A Story of NewportPerry, Lawrence
General
Prince or Chauffeur? A Story of Newport
Perry, Lawrence
Newport (R.I.) -- Fiction
Armitage, whose mechanical genius had marked him while at the Academy
as a man of brilliant possibilities, had developed his idea in the
course of several years, and when it was perfected in his mind he had
gone to the Chief of Ordnance at Washington and laid the matter before
him in all its details. The chief at once gave the lie to the theory
long current that the Department was averse to progress along whatever
line, by expressing unqualified delight. He had Armitage ordered to
the Torpedo Station at Newport to carry on experiments forthwith, and
instructed the superintendent of the station to give the inventor every
facility for carrying on his work. Two months had already elapsed and
the work was at the stage when a destroyer and a practice torpedo boat
had been detached from regular duty and placed at his exclusive service.
The Government was deeply interested in the progress of the work, and
had shown it in many ways. The significance of such a torpedo in any
war in which the country might become involved was patent. Rumors more
or less vague had leaked, as such things do, to foreign war offices,
and there was not a naval _attache_ at Washington but had received
imperative orders to leave nothing undone by which the exact nature of
the torpedo and its qualifications might be ascertained. But neither
Armitage nor the Department had any idea of permitting the slightest
information regarding the invention to escape.
All matters connected with the invention had been carried forward with
the utmost secrecy, while the pedigree of every man employed in the
work had been investigated carefully. All but Yeasky were native-born
mechanics, and he had come from a great electrical plant in New Jersey
with highest recommendations as to character and ability.
The sound of bells ringing for early mass was floating across the water
from the city, when Armitage, with a deep breath of relief, walked from
the table and threw himself with legs outstretched into a chair.
"No," he said with a triumphant grimace, "there will be no mistake next
time. There was not a single fault in the model except--" He suddenly
started bolt upright and looked about him. Then he settled back
laughing. "A fine state of nerves," he added, "when I am afraid to
talk to myself."
He arose with the pleasing design of enjoying a cold tub and a shave on
board the destroyer, the _D'Estang_, but the idea of pumping his water
did not accord with his mood.
He walked over to Billy Harrison's house. Billy commanded the First
Flotilla and, being married, had quarters on the reservation. A drowsy
servant answered the bell. She said that the Harrisons were still
asleep.
"Well, never mind," said Armitage, chuckling, "I'll be back later."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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