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"When did you get back?" Joshua asked, as he took the proffered hand in a hard grip. "Where the devil did you go?"

Barney grimaced. "Sit down," he said, motioning to the other big chair in front of the flames. With his foot he shoved over the stool so Joshua could share it.

The walls of the room were lined halfway up with books. Over the fireplace hung a painting of the "Revenge," with the white cliffs of Dover in the background. Joshua put his feet up on the stool. "This is nice," he said. "The room."

"Yes," said Barney. "I went as far down south as I could without getting snarled up with the British. No ships."

"No. I know it," Joshua said.

"So I was meditating." Barney gestured to the bottle of rum and the glasses on the table between them. He asked, "Would you like to meditate a little?"

Joshua grinned. He poured himself a glass of the liquor and sipped it. "I wish I could give you the 'Pomona.' But I've a contract with her captain, and she sails tomorrow. Meantime I've done all I could and so has Morris. There are no ships." He shot a glance at Barney's face. "Did you get our communication?" He was pretty sure an explosion was coming.

Barney heaved himself to his feet. "Yes, by God!" He had planted his feet wide. Then, "I threw it in the fire." He sobered a bit. "I wrote that." He pointed to his desk and the open letter lying there.

"May I see it?" Joshua asked quietly.

Barney picked it up and handed it to him. He began to pace, back and forth, back and forth, as Joshua had seen him do many times aboard ship. To Barney's rhythmic strides he read.

The letter was addressed to the Delegates of the Congress of the United States. It was short. "I most respectfully show: that I have ser^'ed a year as a lieutenant of the Navy, during seven months of

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that time being a prisoner with the enemy; that I have borne that rank aboard a ship having more than twenty guns and am at present directed to take the rank of first lieutenant on board the Saratoga, a vessel of inferior force. That one year pay is due me for former services which in the present depreciated state of the currency is not worth my acceptance. That application has been made to the Board of Admiralty and no satisfaction can be obtained from that quarter."

Joshua looked up from the letter. Barney said, "You may throw that in the fire, too!"

"No, Barney," Joshua said. "Send it." He too rose, laid the letter on the desk and faced Barney. "In 1775, you volunteered your services to the Navy, and sailed aboard the 'Hornet.' You had no commission but served as first officer. Actually you commanded the vessel. When the captain refused to fight a vessel of superior force, you, already at one of the guns, threw a match stick at his head with such force it buried its iron point in the door of the roundhouse." Joshua smiled slightly. "The captain then remained housed in his cabin, no longer even assuming appearance of command. Because of the extreme gallantry of the actions of that ship, the incident was overlooked. And the captain was relieved of his command. There was even no court-martial."

"There should have been," Barney growled. "I don't condone my action."

Joshua smiled again. "You continued to serve aboard the 'Hornet,' still with no commission. You raised the stars and stripes over her, the first time that Baltimore had seen the flag. You had the honor of receiving the first salute ever fired to that flag, at Stasia, in 1776. Still, Barney, you had no commission." He said strongly, "We need a Navy and we've got to make Congress realize it!"

Barney said, "Are you suggesting I accept a commission—the one I've been offered, aboard the 'Saratoga'?"

"No!" said Joshua. "Refuse it! Send this letter!"

Barney said, "The Gillon incident—" He broke off.

"We tried to move Gillon out. We couldn't. Too much influence. Now we are working on a single head for the Navy. Agent of Marine, Lord of Admiralty, Secretary of the Navy, call it what you will. But we want Morris. Send the letter. We'll have it published in the papers."

"I think I'll get drunk," Barney said. He sat down again, put his

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feet up. Then his good humor asserted itself. "Let's meditate. How is it with you since we landed?"

Joshua swallowed off the glass of rum. He twirled the glass in his fingers. "My erstwhile bachelor establishment is fouled up with females, for at least one of which I have you to blame. The household bills have doubled; seamstresses go in and out, and my butler, whom my father brought from England thirty years ago, has now-come into his own with a peer's daughter in the house."

"Meditate some more," Barney said consolingly.

"And now this latest female," Joshua said, turning to pour some more rum and to look at Barney. "Where did you get her?"

"She sailed with us."

"Is that all you know about her?"

Barney considered. "She's damned pretty." Then he grinned wickedly. "If you attempt to seduce her you'll probably get your skull crushed. I can imagine the look you'll get from Douglass if you so much as mention her name."

Joshua also considered. "She's damned pretty," he agreed. "About the ship, Barney. The State of Pennsylvania will give you command of its made-over merchantman—they've pierced her for assorted guns, anything they could get hold of, and these damn refugee boats cruise around in the rivers off the Delaware, and often help the blockading British, acting as escort boats, up the river. I was thinking," Joshua said, seriously, "that it might be a temporary measure." Such a profound silence followed this remark that Joshua said suddenly, "Things are rather grim."

Barney poured some rum and drank it.

Joshua said, "It's the fifth year of the war. People are discouraged, Barney. What's making it worse is the financial situation. Washington has barely enough money to keep up the secret service, even though he does spend a good deal on it. Congress doesn't help matters when it issues worthless amounts of printed money,"

Barney asked, "What do you do about that money?"

"What can we do? Ignore it. We can't use it. We do business as though it doesn't exist. That means our personal word, or bond, or barter, or British pounds. As a matter of fact, the people aren't using it either. You can't pay them with it. My barber has papered his shop with the stuff. Stasia is our trading ground. That is one of the big reasons Stasia is invaluable to us."

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"Stasia, the Caribbean and the sea war. They're the important things. What I need is a frigate."

"The USS Frigate, 32," said Joshua.

"When you want something, sir, you ask yourself who's got it."

"Yes," said Joshua.

"So who has the ships?"

"The British," said Joshua.

"Yes," murmured Barney.

Joshua looked over at him. For a moment Joshua had a wonderful wild dream in which he and Barney stole into New York and made off with a British frigate. Then he sobered. Barney was filling their glasses again with an abstracted expression on his face. He said:

"Fm not the man for temporary expedients."

"A tangent in roughly the right direction is sometimes the only course."

"I prefer a straight and a true course."

Joshua said, "But how? A British ship—" he broke off, watching Barney's dark face. He wondered vaguely if he had drunk more than he thought he had.

Barney caught the look. "The hell with it," he said. "Let's go to the theatre tonight and take your beautiful sister-in-law."

Chapter 13

JOSHUA REGARDED THE TIPS OF HIS BOOTS WITH SOME SURPRISE. He was still wearing the things. He stretched his legs out. Then he leaned over and took off the heavy boots. He stood slowly, yawning.

He must have fallen asleep after dinner. He had not gone down to the docks as he should have, to have dinner with the captain of the ship that had just come in, and he suddenly remembered he was going to the theatre. He yawned again; the clock struck the quarter hour. Boots in hand, he started for the hall and the stairway.