"I'm quite sure of that," declared Charlie Digby from the depths of his chair. "If we are to win the war we must fight the Zeppelin. We want a real good man at the head of affairs and we should allow him a free hand, and put a stop to the endless committees and conferences and confabulations which have been the curse of this country in every department since war began--and before. Let that man have the advice of all the specialists he may require, and let him encourage people with ideas to offer their advice, instead of turning them down, as is the custom of most people in commanding positions." Those same sentiments I had read in one of the papers that very day. I said nothing more. It was time for me to be off, so I rose and left, having an appointment with Teddy Ashton. As I passed through the big hall of the club I reflected how true were Digby's words. If we were to win the war we must fight the Zeppelins effectively. _But how_? That same question had occupied the minds of both Teddy and myself for many months, long indeed before the first Zeppelin had crossed the North Sea. Both of us had realised the deadly peril of those huge murder-machines against which we would be utterly powerless. During the first year of war the public had laughed at the idea of Zeppelins coming over to drop bombs on undefended towns, or making an air raid upon London. The popular reply to anyone who ventured to express fear of such a thing as had been openly threatened in the German Press was: "Bah! they haven't come yet!" But at last they had come, and they had dropped bombs upon inoffensive citizens. There were some writers already crying, "Never mind the Zeppelins!" In the sluggish apathy which refused to worry as to the state of our air-defences they discovered a sort of heroism! "Surely," they exclaimed, "civilians, including women and children, ought to be really glad and proud to share the risks of their sons or brothers in the trenches." A poor argument surely! The unarmed people of London and the provinces, when summoned to confront the hail of fire and death, had showed an imperturbable coolness worthy to compare with the valour of the soldiers in the field. On that point, testimony was unanimous. The people had been splendid. But they expected something more than passive heroism. It was so very easy to shut one's eyes to the ghastly record of suffering a hundred miles off, easy, as somebody had said, to doze under the hillside with Simple, Sloth and Presumption. Long ago I had agreed with Teddy that some means must be found to fight effectively the German airships now that anti-aircraft guns had proved unreliable for inflicting much damage, except in a haphazard way. In conjunction, therefore, we had been actively conducting certain secret experiments in order to devise some plan which might successfully combat the terror of the night.