son, questioned Prokop in detail as to who he was and what he wanted; by this time there were at least five military persons in the office and they all stared at Prokop so hard that he simply sweated. It was evident that they were waiting for somebody, for whom they had meanwhile telephoned. When this somebody suddenly dashed into the room he proved to be nobody else but Mr. Carson; they addressed him as director, but Prokop never learned his real name. He cried out with delight when his eyes fell on Prokop, saying that he had been waiting for him for a long time and various other things. He at once telephoned to the “Castle” for the guest’s suite to be prepared, took Prokop by the arm and conducted him all over the factory. It appeared that what Prokop had taken for the factory was nothing but the guard’s and firemen’s quarters at the entrance; from there they went along a long road, bordered on each side by a fence about thirty feet high. Mr. Carson led Prokop to the end of this road and only then did he realize what the Balttin factories were really like: a whole town of munition sheds, designated by numbers and letters, hillocks covered with grass which, he told him, were magazines, a little farther on a siding with cranes and ramps, and behind it a number of buildings made of wood. “You see that wood over there?” said Mr. Carson pointing to the horizon. “Behind it are the first experimental laboratories. And there where you see those sand hills is the range. So. And here in the park is the castle. You’ll open your eyes when I show you the laboratories. Absolutely up to date. And now we’ll go to the castle.”
