It swung open.
Seated about a table were the figures of four men. Fortunately for the boys, perhaps, their backs were toward the door, and they did not see it open.
Motioning to Jack to follow, Frank crept in quietly and as quietly sank behind a pile of old boxes in the nearest corner. Jack did likewise, and the two made themselves as comfortable as possible, without making a sound, for there was no telling how long they might have to remain there.
Kneeling, Jack poked up his head until he could just see over the top of the barrel. One of the men made some remark, but it was in Russian, and neither lad could understand what he said. No sooner had he spoken, however, than a second man turned on him angrily.
“I thought we had agreed to speak English,” he said. “Of course it makes no difference here, but practice is good for you. Unless you get used to speaking English you are likely to make a slip the first thing you know in some place where it will spoil everything.”
“You are right,” said the first speaker. “I shall try to be more careful.”
“See that you do,” growled the second speaker.
“Well,” said a third voice, “this thing seems to be all right. Now about the time.”
“We have decided upon that,” said the fourth man. “Czar Nicholas will review his troops before the palace at five o’clock. Ivan and I can get close enough for him to throw with accuracy.”
“Good. Has it been decided that Ivan is to do the work?”