Don Winslow of the Navy

by Frank V. Martinek

  XX

  THE TEST

  It was well past ten o'clock that morning before Don and Red were rousedfrom a four-hour nap in the local Intelligence Office. After breakfast,they were fitted out with clothes quickly tailored to fit, inpreparation for their new roles. Then, for several more hours they weredrilled, each man in his part, so as to make the disguise as perfect aspossible.

  Don Winslow had already memorized all the real Count Borg could teachhim. Now, working from photographs, and from a mass of informationcollected by the office, other Intelligence operatives expertly polishedhis likeness to the captured Scorpion aviator.

  Poor Red was made to study much harder for his role of valet, since hehad to start from scratch. At the end of six hours' unremitting work, hewas pronounced a "passable fake" and sent out to take rooms for hismaster at the Hotel Empire.

  Somewhat later Don Winslow joined him. True to the dressy habits ofCount Andre Borg, he had to change from the natty homespun business suithe was wearing into formal "soup-and-fish."

  While he was adjusting his black bow tie, there came a rap on the door.Red Pennington, now transformed into the valet "Penny," opened it with aflourish.

  "Please step inside, sir!" Don heard him say. "I believe you areexpected."

  "Excellent, Pennington! Excellent!" came Hammond's approving chuckle."You're getting more stiffnecked and manservantish every minute. Shutthat door, now, and let's have a few final words."

  "Yes, sir! Very good, sir!" chanted Red, looking down his rather stubbynose. "But may I take your hat and coat first, sir?"

  Grinning broadly, Hammond spun a chair away from the wall and sat downon it.

  "The Lieutenant's eaten his part like an old actor!" he remarked. "Buthow about you, Commander? Do you feel able to deceive the bright eyes ofthe fair Scorpion spy who'll be sitting across the table from you inabout ten minutes? They say a woman's instinct is foolproof. Of course,that may be all nonsense, but I've seen some queer things happen in thisIntelligence game."

  Don finished buttoning his vest, and let Penny adjust his Tuxedo jacket.

  "No, Hammond," he smiled, "I don't feel nervous about meeting Lotus'inspection. That's queer, too, because it is probably the toughest testI'll have to pass. I've got a funny hunch about that young woman!"

  "What do you mean--hunch?" growled Hammond, with a piercing look. "Youhaven't had time to learn anything new about her. Listen, Commander!Just because the kid is as attractive as they make 'em, you musn't gooff the deep end. Keep your head, man, and remember the lovelier shelooks the more dangerous she's bound to be!"

  Don's hearty laugh wiped some of the worry from Hammond's gloomy face.

  "I'm certainly not going to fall in love with her, if that's what youmean!" he promised. "But seriously, I _have_ a hunch that if she foundout who I really am, she would be sport enough to give me a break. Mymasquerade would be finished, but not necessarily my life. Understand?"

  Hammond got up from his chair, frowning.

  "I understand, but I don't agree," he said heavily. "The minute you comewithin speaking distance of a Scorpion spy in that disguise, your life'sin danger. The second you're discovered, it'll probably be curtainswhether pretty little Lotus or some squint-eyed thug puts out yourlight. Well, I won't be keeping you any longer. Luck, Commander! And forthe luvva Mike, _watch your step_!"

  Red's good-by warning was similar to Hammond's, but even more heartfelt.His right hand still half paralyzed by the husky "Penny's" grip, DonWinslow walked quickly to the hotel elevator.

  Somewhat to his surprise, the operator greeted him respectfully as"Count Borg" showing that the real count was well known to the Empirestaff. Don decided that he would indeed have to "watch his step"!

  Lotus, he recalled, had mentioned a certain table in a corner of thedining room, where she had met the real count on past occasions. If sheshould not be there waiting for him, Don would be in a fix. He could notpick the wrong table to wait for _her_, without making her suspicious.

  As he hesitated just outside the dining room, the headwaiter spotted himand came forward quickly.

  "Ah, Count Borg! It is good to have you with us again after so long anabsence!" the man murmured with his most unctuous smile. "Is it perhapsthat you are expecting Mademoiselle Lotus this evening? If so, yourtable in the corner is reserved for you."

  With a low bow, the headwaiter led the way to a softly lighted alcove,somewhat apart from the main dining room. It held one small tablesuitable for two persons. The service included a single candle set in abeautifully ornamented silver candlestick.

  Barely had the headwaiter pulled out Don's chair, when his alert eyecaught a movement across the larger room.

  "_Eh, voila, M'sieu le Comte!_" he exclaimed delightedly. "Here is theso charming Mademoiselle already! You will not have to wait."

  Hurrying away, he was back in a moment, followed by a dainty figuredressed in clinging white satin. Lotus had made herself particularlycharming this evening, Don told himself. The pure simplicity of her lowcut gown, made her seem even younger than her actual twenty years.

  Slipping the expensive evening wrap from her shoulders, she flicked itcarelessly across the headwaiter's arm.

  "Come back in a few minutes, Maurice!" she said, as the man bowedhimself away.

  Turning to Don, she gave him a long, serious look. Her eyes, Donthought, were like great wells of darkness. As the seconds ticked past,and she did not speak, he felt a tiny shiver of doubt. Was it possible,he wondered, that the girl had already pierced his masquerade?

  All at once she came closer, with a low musical laugh.

  "Always mysterious, aren't you, Andre?" she said, taking both his hands."Every time I meet you here, it is the same! You stand looking at me sosilent and grave, until I feel like a silly little girl. But in the endI always succeed in making you laugh and be silly with me, don't I,Andre?"

  With some difficulty Don held his serious pose. Lotus' teasing laughterand girlish sweetness were harder to resist than he had expected.

  "Sit down, child!" he said soberly, as he moved to pull out her chair."A strange thing has happened since I last saw you. You _say_ I am thesame Andre. But it is hardly the truth!"

  As he sat down across the table he saw that the girl's cheeks had gonewhite as her dress. Her eyes, wide with sudden alarm, seemed about tooverflow with tears.

  "I--I don't understand you!" she whispered faintly.

  For an instant, Don found it hard to go on. This child opposite himmight be a Scorpion spy, even one of the cleverest, but tonight she wassimply a girl in love. A very young girl, who had clearly laid her heartat the feet of her hero, Count Andre Borg. And Don, the pseudo Andre,was going to hurt her feelings cruelly.

  It was a tough job, the young commander told himself, but it had to bedone. In the United States Navy's war against the warmakers, sometimesthe innocent had to suffer.

  Bending forward, Don pushed away the sleek, dark hair just above histemple, to show the neatly taped head wound.

  "That happened during the attack on the Navy gunboat, five days ago," hesaid grimly. "A machine gun bullet ripped through my seaplane andgrooved my skull. It was Don Winslow himself who pulled me out of thewater, after the plane cracked up--or so they tell me. I woke up in thebrig some hours later, too dazed to know if I was afloat or ashore.Gradually my mind cleared. _But my memory has been skipping cogs eversince!_"

  Slowly the look of fright left Lotus' face. Two large tears trickleddown each side of her pretty nose, but her lips smiled tenderly.

  "My poor Andre!" she cried, softly. "It must make you feel queer--as ifyou were someone else--to have your memory 'skip cogs'! But that iscertain to cure itself! After all your brain is not like the gears of acar that have to be thrown away when they are broken. You remember _me_!Very soon you will recall everything. In the meantime, let Lotus be yourmemory, dear Andre!"

  As Don Winslow gazed into her eager, pleading
little face, he felt likekicking himself. Only the fact that duty came before sentiment kept himfrom blurting out the whole true story, then and there.

  "Very well, child!" he said, glancing down at his newly manicuredfingernails. "I certainly hope you are right about my mind clearing upin time; but right now I am finding this loss of memory pretty awkward.For instance, who is that large, Oriental person coming toward us? Helooks as if he knew me, all right, but I can't name him, for the life ofme!"

  "Cho-San!" came Lotus' gasp. "Why, Andre! You don't even remember ... myguardian? The greatest power in all Scorpia, next to the master? Oh,this is terrible! You must _pretend_ to remember Cho-San, whatever elseyou've forgotten, Andre!"