“Wait! We have information that may change everything. Let me introduce Lieutenant Ryerson and Mr. Widding--General Wood.” They bowed politely. “Mr. Widding has just seen Thomas A. Edison.” That was a name to conjure with, and the General’s face brightened. “I’m listening,” he said. We settled back in our chairs and Lemuel A. Widding, with awkward movements, drew from his pockets some papers which he offered to the American commander. “These speak for themselves, General,” he began. “Here is a brief description of my invention for destroying the German fleet. Here are blueprints that make it clearer. Here is the written endorsement of Thomas A. Edison.” For a long time General Wood studied these papers with close attention, then he sat silent, looking out over the broad Potomac, his noble face stern with care. I saw that his hair had whitened noticeably in the last two months. “If this is true, it’s more important than you realise. It’s so important that--” He searched us with his kind but keen grey eyes. “Thomas A. Edison says it’s true,” put in Widding. “That ought to be good enough evidence.” “And Lieutenant Ryerson tells me that Admiral Fletcher spoke favourably of the matter,” I added. “He did, General,” declared the lieutenant. “It was on the _Pennsylvania_ a few hours before we went into battle. The admiral had been looking over Mr. Widding’s specifications the night before and he said--I remember his words: ‘This is a great idea. If we had it in operation now we could destroy the German fleet.’” At this moment there came a fateful interruption in the form of an urgent call for General Wood from the conference hall and he asked us to excuse him until the next day when he would take the matter up seriously. We returned at once to Washington and I spent that evening at the Cosmos Club listening to a lecture by my oceanographical friend, Dr. Austin H. Clark, on deep-sea lilies that eat meat. At about nine o’clock I was called to the telephone, and presently recognised the agitated voice of Miss Ryerson, who said that an extraordinary thing had happened and begged me to come to her at once. She was stopping at the Shoreham, just across the street, and five minutes later we were talking earnestly in the spacious blue-and-white salon with its flowers and restful lights. Needless to say, I preferred a talk with this beautiful girl to the most learned discussion of deep-sea lilies. Her message was brief but important. She had just been telephoning in a drug-store on Pennsylvania Avenue when she was surprised to hear the name of Thomas A. Edison mentioned several times by a man in the next booth who was speaking in German. Miss Ryerson understood German and, listening attentively, she made out enough to be sure that an enemy’s plot was on foot to lay hold of the great inventor, to abduct him forcibly, so that he could no longer help the work of American defence.