If we had looked back we might have seen the naturalist shake his head in a manner strangely reminiscent as he turned and gazed again after us.

CHAPTER X

THE CONSPIRATORS

“You remember Lieutenant Woodward, the inventor of trodite?” I asked Elaine one day after I had been out for a ride through the country.

“Very well indeed,” she nodded with a look of wistfulness as the mention of his name recalled Kennedy.  “Why?”

“He’s stationed at Fort Dale, not very far from here, at the entrance of the Sound,” I answered.

“Then let’s have him over at my garden party to-night,” she exclaimed, sitting down and writing.

Dear lieutenant,

I have just learned that you are stationed at Fort Dale and would like to have you meet some of my friends at a little garden party I am holding to-night.

Sincerely, Elaine Dodge.

Thus it was that a few hours afterward, in the officers’ quarters at the Fort, an orderly entered with the mail and handed a letter to Lieutenant Woodward.  He opened it and read the invitation with pleasure.  He had scarcely finished reading and was hastening to write a reply when the orderly entered again and saluted.

“A Professor Arnold to see you, Lieutenant,” he announced.

“Professor Arnold?” repeated Woodward.  “I don’t know any Professor Arnold.  Well, show him in, anyhow.”

The orderly ushered in a well-dressed man with a dark, heavy beard and large horn spectacles.  Woodward eyed him curiously and a bit suspiciously, as the stranger seated himself and made a few remarks.

The moment the orderly left the room, however, the professor lowered his voice to a whisper.  Woodward listened in amazement, looked at him more closely, then laughed and shook hands cordially.

The professor leaned over again.  Whatever it was that he said, it made a great impression on the Lieutenant.

“You know this fellow Del Mar?” asked Professor Arnold finally.

“No,” replied Woodward.

“Well, he’s hanging around Miss Dodge all the time,” went on Arnold.  “There’s something queer about his presence here at this time.”

“I’ve an invitation to a garden party at her house to-night,” remarked Woodward.

“Accept,” urged the professor, “and tell her you are bringing a friend.”

Woodward resumed writing and when he had finished handed the note to the stranger, who read: 

Dear Miss Dodge,

I shall be charmed to be with you to-night and with your permission will bring my friend, Professor Arnold.

Truly yours, Edward Woodward.

“Good,” nodded the professor, handing the note back.

Woodward summoned an orderly.  “See that that is delivered at Dodge Hall to Miss Dodge herself as soon as possible,” he directed, as the orderly took the note and saluted.