e had been thrown up by
a hidden spring.

"But--but----" he began.

"Mr. Dene hit upon a clever ruse," continued Sage, "and----"

"But the advertisements! Did you know this at the time?"

"It was known at Department Z., sir, and the advertisements were to
convince the Hun of our eagerness to find John Dene so that we might
start operations."

"I see, I see," cried Mr. Llewellyn John; "but how on earth did you
ferret all this out?"

"We just sat down, sir, and waited for the other side to make
mistakes," said Malcolm Sage quietly, "just as the Opposition does in
the House of Commons," he added slyly.

And Mr. Llewellyn John smiled.

"It was better to say nothing about the Finlay business," said Malcolm
Sage, as he and Colonel Walton walked back to St. James's Square.
"It's results they're concerned with."

Colonel Walton nodded. "We must see John Dene, however," he said.

"If only for the good of his own soul," said Sage, as he knocked his
pipe against a railing.

CHAPTER XIX

COMMANDER JOHN DENE GOES TO BOURNEMOUTH

I

Late one afternoon when Dorothy and Mrs. West were walking along the
Christchurch Road on their way back to the boarding-house for dinner,
Dorothy suddenly gave vent to an exclamation, and with both hands
clutched her mother's arm so fiercely that she winced with the pain.

"Look, mother," she cried, "it's----"

Following the direction of her daughter's eyes Mrs. West saw walking
sturdily towards them on the other side of the road, a man in the
uniform of a naval commander. In his mouth was a cigar, from which he
was puffing volumes of smoke. With a little cry Mrs. West recognised
him. It was John Dene of Toronto.

There was no mistaking that truculent, aggressive air of a man who
knows his own mind, and is determined that every one else shall know it
too.

Suddenly Dorothy released her mother's arm and, running across the
road, planted herself directly in John Dene's path.

"Mr. Dene!" she cried, when he was within a yard or two of her.

Several passers-by turned their heads. For a fraction of a moment John
Dene gazed at the apparition in front of him, not recognising Dorothy
in the white frock and large hat that shaded her eyes. Then with what
was to him a super-smile, he held out his hand.

"Say, this is bully," he cried, giving Dorothy a grip that caused her
to wince. "I've just been to your apartment-house and found you out."
Then catching sight of Mrs.