Presently the candidate for the place was announced. “Mr. Thomas Dean to see about a chauffeur’s position,” the maid said as she brought him in, and while her father questioned him, Jane studied him carefully. He could not be more than thirty, she decided, and the voice in which he answered her father’s questions was surely a cultivated one. It would not have surprised her in the least to have learned that he was a college man. Even in his neat chauffeur’s uniform he seemed every inch a gentleman. He had been driving a car for twelve years, he explained. No, he did not drink and had never been arrested for speeding. “Are you a married man?” Jane listened curiously for his answer to this question of her father’s. Surely it would be far more interesting if he wasn’t. Of course, he was a chauffeur and a detective, but somehow she could not help feeling, perhaps because of his easy manner, that more than likely most of the cars he had driven were cars that he himself had owned. K-27 she decided was going to be quite a satisfactory partner to work with. “There’s just one thing,” said her father. “You say you are not married. I can’t understand why it is that you are not in the army.” “I am not eligible,” said Thomas Dean calmly, though Jane thought she could detect a twinkle in his eye. “One of my legs has been broken in three places.” “But there are things a young fellow can do for his country besides marching,” insisted Mr. Strong. “The government needs mechanics, too.” “I know,” said Thomas Dean, almost humbly, “but I have a mother, and my father is dead.” Jane smiled a little to herself at his answer. She noted how carefully he had avoided saying anything about having a mother to support. It would not have surprised her in the least to have learned that he was a millionaire, yet her father, ordinarily shrewd in judging men, apparently was satisfied. “Supporting a mother, I suppose, comes first,” he said. “Well, Dean, when can you come?” “To-morrow morning if you like,” the new chauffeur answered, nodding gravely to Jane as he withdrew. Mr. Strong, as soon as they were alone, spoke enthusiastically about the young man, complimenting Jane on having discovered him, and as he did so a revulsion of feeling swept over her. For the first time she realized into what duplicity her work for the government was leading her. She had pledged her word to Chief Fleck that she would keep her activities an absolute secret even from her parents. Already she was deceiving them, bringing into the household an employee who really was a detective, a spy. She was tempted to tell her father, at least, what she was doing. He, she knew, was filled with a high spirit of patriotism. While he might not wholly approve of what she herself was doing she might be able to convince him of the necessity of it. If she could only tell him, her conscience would not trouble her, but there was her promise—her sacred promise; she couldn’t break that.