“The end of my journey didn't help matters any,” he went on. “I daren't even make for a Dutch port, and we were picked up eventually by a tramp steamer from Newcastle to London with coals. I hadn't been on board more than an hour before a submarine which had been following overhauled us. I thought it was all up then, but the fog lifted, and we found ourselves almost in the midst of a squadron of destroyers from Harwich. I made another transfer, and they landed me in time to catch the early morning train from Felixstowe.” “Did they get the submarine?” his listener asked eagerly. “Get it!” the other repeated, with a smile. “They blew it into scrap metal.” “Plenty of movement in your life!” “I've run the gauntlet over there once too often,” Horridge said grimly. “Just look at me now, Sir Henry. I'm twenty-nine years old, and it's only two years and a half since I was invalided out of the navy and took this job on. The last person I asked to guess my age put me down at fifty. What should you have said?” “Somewhere near it,” was the candid admission. “Never mind, Horridge, you've done your bit. You shall pass on your experience to a new hand, take your pension and try the south coast of England for a few months. Now let's get on with it. You know what I want to hear about.” Horridge produced from his pocket a long strip of paper. “They're there, sir,” he announced, “coaled to the scuppers, every man standing to stations and steam up. There's the list.” He handed the paper across to Sir Henry, who glanced it down. “The fast cruiser squadron,” he observed. “Hm! Three new ships we haven't any note of. No transports, then, Horridge?'” “Not a sign of one, sir,” was the reply. “They're after a bombardment.” He rose to his feet, walked to a giant map of England, and touched a certain port on the east coast. Sir Henry's eyes glistened. “You're sure?” “It is a certainty,” Horridge replied. “I've been on three of those ships. I've dined with four of the officers. They're under sealed orders, and the crew believes that they're going to escort out half a dozen commerce destroyers. But I have the truth. That's their objective,” Horridge repeated, touching once more the spot upon the map, “and they are waiting just for one thing.” Sir Henry smiled thoughtfully. “I know what they're waiting for,” he said. “Perhaps if they'd a Herr Horridge to send over here for it, they'd have got it before now. As it is--well, I'm not sure,” he went on. “It seems a pity to disappoint them, doesn't it? I'd love to give them a run for their money.” Horridge smiled faintly. He knew a good deal about his companion. “They're spoiling for it, sir,” he admitted. Sir Henry spoke down a telephone and a few minutes later Ensol reappeared. “Find Mr. Horridge a comfortable room,” his chief directed, “and one of our confidential typists. You can make out your report at your leisure,” he went on. “Come in and see me when it's all finished.”