“That is the trouble with all adventure, these days,” Walker complained. “It’s always so very simple.”
“I consider this extremely interesting and exciting,” replied Strong. “It is like a tremendous game of chess with enough elements of danger added to suit the most exacting. Don’t imagine that we shall not be in danger every second tonight. These Germans are cold-blooded. If we should happen to be in their way, should they find out how much we actually know, we can say good-bye; the sun would rise tomorrow, but we might not.”
He turned to Ted. “Well, lad, are you afraid?”
“I’m going to stick, of course,” was the reply.
“Well, comrades, here is the plan. The keys you see here, one for each of us, are for Room 420. We shall separate. At six-thirty we must all plan to be in that room. No noise must be made when you come; no sound must be made while you are there.”
“We had better make sure we do all our sneezing outside, eh?” Every one laughed with Walker.
“It will be your last sneeze, if it’s inside,” Strong laughingly warned him. “The least sound, a scraping chair, would be heard. Stay in Room 420; the fire escape makes 418 dangerous, if anyone should be curious and decide to come up and look into that room. Of course, there will be no lights turned on.
“Should any of us fail to get there, he who does must make every effort to get the import of the conversation.”
“Can I do anything, before I leave for New York tonight?” asked Bronson.
“No, I guess not. Get your room into shape for us. Put the chairs where we cannot stumble over them. How long will you be gone?”