Page:Arthur Stringer - The Door of Dread.djvu/36

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THE DOOR OF DREAD

ever, a rejuvenated Wilsnach, an airy and summery Wilsnach in white cricketer's flannel, carrying a roll-brim Panama and a bamboo swagger-stick. "But to rig out in this get-up takes time."

Kestner, as they took their seats, cast a somnolently critical eye over his younger colleague. "You'll do!" he finally announced.

"But just why am I Lieutenant Keays?" inquired the man in cricketer's flannel.

"Because, my dear fellow, your arrival has been duly heralded in the evening papers," Kestner announced, "and there are one or two persons, quite outside official circles, who are rather interested in your new war-plane."

"My new war-plane?"

"Yes; which you have brought with you from the Brooklyn Navy Yard—at least, the specifications are now with you."

Kestner handed an oblong packet of papers across the table to his inquiring-eyed colleague.

"Then you've actually been finding something out?" Wilsnach asked.

"I've found out quite a number of things," was Kestner's quiet-toned answer, as he squeezed a slice of lemon over his fried sand-dabs. "And not the