Storch bared his green teeth.
"One is sure of nothing!" he snapped back.
Fred tried to appear nonchalant. "Aren't you rather bold, having this thing delivered in broad daylight?"
"What have we to fear?"
"I thought we were being watched."
Storch threw back his head and roared with laughter. "You have been watched … if that's what you mean. I never believe in taking any unnecessary chances."
Fred made no reply. But a certain contempt for Storch that hitherto had been lacking rose within him. He had always fancied certain elements of bigness in this man in spite of his fanaticism. Suddenly he was conscious that his silence had evoked a subtle uneasiness in Storch. At this moment he laughed heartily himself as he rose from his seat, slapping Storch violently on the back as he cried:
"Upon my word, Storch, you're a master hand! No matter what happens now, at least I'll have the satisfaction of knowing that I was perfectly stage-managed."
They kept close to the house until nearly midnight. At a few moments to twelve Storch drew a flask of smuggled brandy from his hip pocket.
"Here, take a good drink!" he said, passing the bottle to Fred.