As they worked together in the succeeding days Fay told him of the dreams of destruction which were seemingly to be realized. He told him how first munition carrying ships would be attacked, and then the food ships. And then, his plans succeeding, his energies would be extended to war ships operating outside the three mile limit.
"And as a final blow," he finished, "one day there is the harbor of New York. With one blow—one great explosion—it can be cleared of all shipping, its docks and wharfs destroyed, New York's giant shipping industry will be crippled forever and the Allies delayed for months by being deprived of the supplies they need. Such an event would be a victory for Germany unequalled in the annals of her magnificent history!"
His assistant glanced at him with a look bordering on repulsion, but Fay, in the frenzy of imagination, was blind to it.
"And the loss of life? That also does not matter?"
"Why should we care," Fay answered recklessly. "Germany will bombard New York anyway—why not now? And the glory of the achievement——"
He was interrupted by a knock at the door, and went outside. The murmur of voices sifted into the boat house. Then Fay reappeared.
"It is a message. They are complaining at our slowness. But I was able to tell them that our bomb is finished. And the time for action has come. Tonight our first blow will be struck!"
The assistant leaned forward and smiled peculiarly. He reached back to his pocket, slowly, carefully.
"No it won't." The words fell strangely in the quiet of the dingy boat house. Fay stared.
"It won't! Why not?"