Page 36

They caught up with one of the Navy sentries, who was patrolling the beach with a Springfield rifle on his shoulder and an allegedly ferocious German shepherd on a leash.

The shepherd obligingly chased pieces of driftwood for the admiral, proudly delivering them with his tail wagging. Finally, the sentry resumed his rounds, and Canidy, without thinking, idly asked a question he immediately regretted. He asked the admiral about his family. "My wife lives as I do, on charity," the admiral said calmly. "When I was court-martial ed-" "Court-martial ed?"

"In absentia, almost immediately after I left Morocco," the admiral said matter-of-factly, "I was convicted of treason. The court stripped me of my rank and decorations. That of course stopped my pay, and my property was forfeit."

"Jesus Christ!" Canidy exploded. The admiral shrugged.

"My son was dismissed from the Navy shortly after my court-martial. As my son, he was obviously not trustworthy. He has been arrested by the Germans. I don't know where he is."

"I'm sorry."

" I have old friends in New York," the admiral said, "Madame Martin and her husband, who have been kind enough to provide a little pocket money for me, enough that I can share a little with my staff."

"You don't get money from the Free French?" I have a letter from Brigadier de Gaulle," the admiral said, his tone making it quite clear what he thought of de Gaulle, "in which he states that he, representing the Free French, does not of course regard my court martial as valid, and that so far as the Free French are concerned, I am in honorable retirement. He went on to express his profound regret that because of other, more pressing claims upon the limited funds made available to him, he will unhappily be forced to delay the payment of my pension until after the war. "That sonofabitch!" Canidy said. "You are referring, mon Major," the admiral said dryly, "to the head of my government. But under the circumstances, I do not believe I will offer you the choice of a duel or an

apology." They walked along the beach in silence for a couple of minutes, nodded to the sailor when he came walking back down the beach with the German shepherd, then turned and headed back to Summer Place. When they got back to the house, Barbara Whittaker was waiting for them. Captain Doug lass had called, she said.

Canidy was to fly the Beech 110 11 W.R.R. GRIFIFIN to Anacostia Naval Air Station in Washington first thing in the morning Someone would meet him at the airport.

FOUR I MOM Phis, Tennessee Sune 26,1942

Two signs forbidding personal long-distance telephone calls were tacked to the employee bulletin board of the Memphis Advocate. One was a poster published by the Office of the Coordinator of Information. It showed an Air Corps officer sitting at a desk with a telephone to his ear. He was wearing a look of pained frustration in response to a balloon coming from the telephone: "Sorry, Captain, all the lines are busy." In black letters was the legend "Telephones are tools of war!

If you have to call, make it quick! The second was smaller and more succinct. It was hand-lettered:

A RECORD OF LONG-DISTANCE CALLS is NOW BEING KEPT. CHARGING PERSONAL LONG-DISTANCE TELEPHONE CALLS TO THE ADVOCATE IS GROUNDS FOR DISM188AL.

Ann Chambers ignored both. For one thing, she doubted that one two-minute telephone call from Memphis, Tennessee, to Cedar Rapids, Iowa, was really going to lose more battles than were already being lost. For another, the Memphis Advocate was one of nine newspaper properties owned by Chambers Publishing Corporation. The president of Chambers Publishing was Brandon Chambers, and Brandon Chambers was Ann's father.

She had begun thinking about making the telephone call to Iowa in the elevator in the Peabody Hotel the day her cousin Ed Bitter had told THE SECRET WARRIORS 0 III her that Dick Canidy had been sent home in disgrace from China for "re fusing to engage the enemy." Ed obviously believed what he told her to be true. And it certainly would explain why her pen-pal letters to Canidy had gone unanswered. It was possible that he was a coward, though she didn't feel that was likely. In fact, the truth was that even if Dick did run away from the japs she didn't care.

The truth was that she loved him more than she'd ever believed she could love any man. And what she wanted more than anything in the world right now was to get his head on her shoulder. Or her breast.

"This is Reverend Canidy," the voice on the telephone said curiously.

"Reverend Canidy, this is Ann Chambers," she said.

"I'm Ed Bitter's cousin, and, more to the point, a friend of Dick's."

"Oh, how nice!" he said, puzzled. "The reason I'm calling is that I'm going-I live in Memphis-East, and I seem to have lost Dick's address."

"He's horn ig e from China," the Reverend Canidy said, as I guess you know? "Yes,' Ann said. "And he's found work with the National Institutes of Health, as a pi lot." The National Institutes of Health?

"I'd heard," Ann lied.

"Could you give me his address in Washington? And his phone number?

I'd really like to say hello when I'm there."

"Just a moment," he said.

"I've got it somewhere." Later, when she called the number Canidy's father gave her, a woman answered and denied any knowledge of anyone named Canidy. When Ann called the National Institutes of Health, they had never beard of him either. When she called the Washington information operator, she said she had no listing for the address Reverend Canidy had given her on Q Street, NW Ann walked into the teletype room and sat down before the Chambers News Service teletypewriter. She typed rapidly, a service message to the Chambers News Service Washington Bureau. She asked for ALL INFO, FACT AND SPEC the Washington bureau could develop SOONEST on what was going on at the address Reverend Canidy had given her on Q Street, Northwest. She signed it CHAMBERS ADVOCATE. if they thought her father had sent the service message, so much the better. Her name was Chambers, too, and if they were inspired to drop something unimportant and get on this right away, fine.

As she'd hoped, the response was quick, but it was not quite the one she expected. Two hours after she sent the service message, she had a telephone call.

"Exactly what is your interest in that address on Q Street? " her father began without other preliminary. "Hello, Daddy," she said.

"I'm fine, how are you?"