'They were unnecessary. That is, I can copy them from memory. I destroyed them as a
gesture.'
'For the benefit of your captors?'
'Yes. They thought the tracings were duplicates. They let me go because they could not get
the originals, which were necessary to their game. So I tore up the tracings after they
handed them to me. A bluff. It was a good policy.'
Harry Vincent happened to glance at his watch. Dadren noticed the move and shot an
inquiring glance toward his secretary. Harry explained that he was due at the Navy
Department. He gave the reason.
'I can call them,' he added. 'Perhaps they would delay the inquiry -'
'You don't know the department,' interposed Dadren. 'You must go there at once, Vincent.
By the way, don't mention that I am back. I prefer to announce that fact myself.'
'Very well, sir.'
AS soon as Harry was gone, Senator Releston and Vic Marquette were ready with new
questions. Commander Dadren waved his hand in an annoyed fashion. He turned to Stollart.
'I left my suitcase in the waiting room,' said Dadren to Releston's secretary. 'It contains a
few papers that my captors returned to me. Nothing pertaining to the plans'- this was to
Releston—'but there are letters to which I must refer. Could you get it for me?'
The final remark was to Stollart. The secretary nodded and started for the little hall. Dadren
called after him, asking him to bring in the box of cigars from the senator's desk.
'I could smoke steadily for a week,' laughed Dadren. 'It's funny, now that it's past, but it's
hard to go without tobacco, when a man is a heavy smoker like myself.'
Stollart arrived with the suitcase. Dadren placed it beside his chair, but did not open it. He
stretched one leg upon the heavy bag; with cigar between his fingers, he spoke to Releston
and Marquette.
'Let's leave the questions until later,' he decided. 'Only one thing is on my mind right now:
Those diagrams that I destroyed. I want to reconstruct them. I can do it by making notes to
begin with. Is this man your secretary, senator?'
He indicated Stollart. Releston nodded.
'Has he studied the submarine plans?' inquired Dadren.
'No,' replied Releston.
'But you two have?' asked Dadren, indicating Vic along with the senator.
'Yes,' answered Releston.
'Then I must request privacy,' asserted Dadren. 'My plans, senator, are something like your
vault. They have a combination which must be kept secret. If I dictated to a person who has
not examined the plans, he will know nothing. I should like you and Mr. Marquette to be
absent.'
So speaking, Dadren picked up the plans that Releston had brought from the vault. He
began to look over the diagrams.
Senator Releston suggested that Dadren and Stollart go in the office. The commander
smiled and shook his head.
'This room will do,' he said. 'After I have finished the dictation, I shall be ready to go to the
Navy Department.'
'I'll go with you,' offered Vic.
'Very well,' agreed Dadren.
Releston arose and went toward the office. Marquette followed. Dadren motioned to Stollart
to close the door. The secretary did so. He was alone with Commander Dadren in that
single room which extended out from Senator Releston's spacious apartment.
WHEN Senator Releston reached his office, he seated himself behind the desk. Vic
Marquette, however, remained standing. The operative began to pace, restlessly. Silent
minutes passed. At the end of ten, the door opened and Stollart appeared.
'Where is Commander Dadren?' questioned Releston.
'He departed, sir,' replied Stollart, seriously. 'He took the plans and my shorthand notes. He
said he would have the notes typed at the Navy Department.'
'He departed!' cried Vic Marquette. 'Which way did he go?'
'Through the outer door of the living room,' replied Stollart. 'He ordered me to bolt it after
him. I did. Then it struck me as rather peculiar that he should choose that exit -'
Vic Marquette leaped for the telephone. He called the desk. He learned that several persons
had just come down on an elevator. The clerk had seen them go out; he could not say,
however, if any answered Dadren's description.
'Call the Navy Department,' suggested Senator Releston. 'Perhaps they -'
'No use,' growled Vic. 'That's the last place we'd find him. That man was an impostor. I was
beginning to suspect it. He's taken the diagrams with the tracings. He's landed the works!'
With this statement, Vic became glum. He stared at the senator, whose face reflected the
same expression. Only Stollart was unperturbed. Unnoticed, the secretary was wearing a
smile of satisfaction.
By skillful stratagem, an impersonator of Commander Joseph Dadren had boldly walked
into Senator Releston's abode. He had asked for the plans that had been brought by Harry
Vincent. He had received them.
Coolly, this crafty worker had followed up his deception. Such was the aftermath of the letter
from the real Commander Dadren. A keen brain had designed a simple but effective
method to gain the priceless plans that had lain behind the formidable door of Senator
Releston's impregnable vault.
CHAPTER XIX. WEDNESDAY AFTER TWO
TWO o'clock.
Vic Marquette, pacing nervously, noted the time. Senator Releston was at his desk, deep in
thought. Stollart stood inconspicuously at one side.
'I thought of calling Vincent,' said Marquette, savagely. 'But that wouldn't do any good. He's
over at that inquiry; it would be a tough job to get hold of him.'
'There is still a chance,' declared Releston, 'that we have not been deceived. I still think that
a call to the Navy Department -'
'Would ruin everything,' broke in Vic. 'Listen, senator. If that was really Dadren who came
here, all we've got to do is wait. Let him handle the matter the way he wants. But if the fellow
was a faker, we could call every department in Washington and it wouldn't bring him back.'
'You are right, Marquette,' admitted Releston, with a solemn nod.
'Dumb work on your part, Stollart,' accused Vic, whirling to the silent secretary. 'If you hadn't
let him get away; if you'd only come in here to tell us he was going -'
Protest showed on Stollart's face; it was Releston, however, who intervened.
'Save criticism for yourself, Marquette,' he said, sternly. 'Do not shift the blame to Stollart.'
Vic subsided glumly. He resumed his pacing. Two minutes passed; then came footsteps.
Vic turned to see Smedley enter. The servant looked puzzled.
'What is it, Smedley?' inquired Releston.
'Commander Dadren has arrived, sir,' returned the servant. 'He is in the waiting room.
But—I don't understand -'
'Dadren has returned?' exclaimed Releston.
