“Me?” said Gamble.

“Yes,” said the other.  “I have just had notice from the Department that I am one of a board of five that has been appointed to draw up specifications for machine oil for the Navy.”

“What can I do about it?” asked Gamble.

“I want you to help me draw them up.”

“But I don’t know anything about machine oil.”

“You cannot possibly know less than I do,” said the Lieutenant.  “Surely, if you have been in the oil business, you can give me some sort of an idea about machine oil.”

Gamble thought for a minute.  “I might try,” he said.  “But would it be the proper thing for me to do?  Of course, I’m out of the business myself; but I have friends who might bid for the contract.”

“Well, your friends can take their chances with the rest,” said the Lieutenant.  “I am a friend, too, hang it.  And how in the world am I to find out anything about oil?”

Gamble was silent again.  “Well, I’ll do what I can for you,” he said, finally.  “I’ll write out what I know about the qualities of good oil, and you can use it as you think best.”

“All right,” said the Lieutenant, with relief.

“But you’ll have to agree to say nothing about it,” said Gamble.  “It’s a delicate matter, you understand.”

“You may trust me for that,” said the other, laughing.  So the subject was dropped, and they went on with their ride.

Half an hour later Gamble set Montague down, at General Prentice’s door, and he bade them farewell and went in.

The General was coming down the stairs.  “Hello, Allan,” he said.  “Where have you been?”

“Seeing the place a little,” said Montague.

“Come into the drawing-room,” said the General.  “There’s a man in there you ought to know.

“One of the brainiest newspaper men in Wall Street,” he added, as he went across the hall,—­“the financial man of the Express.”

Montague entered the room and was introduced to a powerfully built and rather handsome young fellow, who had not so long ago been centre-rush upon a famous football team.  “Well, Bates,” said the General, “what are you after now?”

“I’m trying to get the inside story of the failure of Grant and Ward,” said Bates.  “I supposed you’d know about it, if anyone did.”

“I know about it,” said the General, “but the circumstances are such that I’m not free to tell—­at least, not for publication.  I’ll tell you privately, if you want to know.”

“No,” said Bates, “I’d rather you didn’t do that; I can find it out somehow.”

“Did you come all the way to Newport to see me?” asked the General.

“Oh, no, not entirely,” said Bates.  “I’m to get an interview with Wyman about the new bond issue of his road.  What do you think of the market, General?”

“Things look bad to me,” said Prentice.  “It’s a good time to reef sail.”

Then Bates turned to Montague.  “I think I passed you a while ago in the street,” he said pleasantly.  “You were with James Gamble, weren’t you?”