The alterations to my machine were being carried on by a first-class firm at Willesden, therefore, at Teddy's suggestion, all three of us ran over in the car in order to inspect the work, which we found progressing most favourably.
The foreman engineer, a big fat, elderly man, just as we were about to leave the premises, called me aside and, in a confidential tone, exclaimed:
'Excuse me, sir. But did you send a gentleman named Hale here?'
'Hale?' I repeated, looking at him in surprise. 'I know nobody of that name!'
'Well—here's his card,' said the engineer. 'He called yesterday afternoon, and told me that you'd sent him, and that he had your authority to look at your machine.'
I took the rather soiled card, and saw upon it the name: 'Harold Hale—National Physical Laboratory.'
I held it in my hand in surprise.
'A Government official!' I exclaimed in wonder. 'I gave no such permission!' I declared. 'As I have repeatedly said, these alterations you are making are strictly in secret.'
'That's what I told him, sir.'
'You didn't let him see the work, I hope?' I asked anxiously.
'Not very likely, sir,' was the man's reply. 'I asked him for a written authorization, but he said he'd left it in his office. There was a good deal of swank about him, I thought. He seemed to have a swelled head.'
'Well—what happened?' I inquired.
