Yes, Sir, they are no slouches at sleuth-work.
If I were to buy a pair of false whiskers and dye my hair and dress like a Baptist parson and go into Germany on the peace racket, I guess they'd be on my trail like a knife, and I should be shot as a spy inside of a week or doing solitary in the Moabite prison.

But they lack the larger vision.

They can be bluffed, Sir.

With your approval I shall visit the Fatherland as John S.

Blenkiron, once a thorn in the side of their brightest boys on the other side.