"I can afford it," said MacReedy with the unexpected generosity of the true Scotsman. "What do you want me to do?" "_They_ have a new weapon building," said the General. "All we've got are a few spy-photographs--not very good, I'm afraid." "What sort of weapon?" the model-maker asked. "That's just it--we don't know," replied the General. "I'm going to send you what we have on it tomorrow; I'm hoping you can give us a line on its purpose." He paused, added grimly, "As it is we don't know how to meet it. We haven't an inkling. It's given the Chief a whole new patch of grey hairs." "I'll do what I can," said MacReedy. "But don't expect the moon." "All I want is the nature and purpose of that weapon--if it _is_ a weapon," was the General's reply. Then Toby and Sergeant Riley came clumping down the stairs and the conference was at an end. Before he left the General gave Toby five dollars. "That's for bringing me here," he told the lad. "You'll be seeing me again." "Yes, sir," said Toby. He didn't sound at all surprised. * * * * * When he got back In the car alone, the general counted the models on the seat beside him--one rocket-launcher, one A-gun. He said, "Riley, how are we fixed for gas?" "Pretty good, sir," came the reply. "We can make the city okay, sir." "Fill up before you get there," the General told him. "We're going right on through to Washington tonight." "But, sir, I haven't notified the motor pool at Governor's Island," the Sergeant protested. "Damn the motor pool!" the General exploded. "I'll take care of them. Now get going; we've got a long drive ahead." The big car gathered speed through the thickening night snow. The General slept most of the way, after he and the Sergeant stopped for dinner at a Howard Johnson restaurant on Route One, just north of New Brunswick. After a shower, a change into uniform and breakfast, he was in sound operating shape when he reached his office at the Pentagon the next morning. He arranged for a round-the-clock guard of Angus MacReedy's house, ordered investigation of the model-maker's record, had a copy of the complete file on the possible enemy weapon forwarded to Long Island by special messenger. Then he summoned a special meeting of top-echelon Ordnance brass and produced the models of the XT-101, the self-reloading rocket launcher and the improved A-gun. If such a Broadway-Hollywood term as _sensational_ could be used in any connection with a Pentagon conference, the General's meeting with his colleagues might have qualified for it. Experts were quick to understand the practicability of the models, quick to recast their plans accordingly.