“Don't speak of the Lusitania,” exclaimed Thorsensel, irritably. “You know how I feel about that piece of stupidity.”
“You were against it all the time, I know,” began Elberon.
“Of course I was. It was the gravest blunder in history. But this is no time to talk about it. Every one has reported on last night's business. There were no casualties and no one is missing.”
“Good!” exclaimed the grey-whiskered plotter, his piggish eyes sparkling. “No one killed or injured or missing, eh? That seems all that could be expected of Providence.”
“Every man has reported,” said Thorsensel succinctly. “Even Trott, from whom we had heard nothing for two whole days. It appears he was trapped and had to lie hidden in an empty bin. He got away just in time, and without being seen. Yes, luck and God were with us last night, gentlemen. Not a life lost, nor a man scratched.”
“If we come out half as well next week, I will say that God is with us,” said Zimmerlein.
“Where were you last night, Elberon?” demanded the gaunt leader abruptly.
“I dined with some friends and went to the theatre afterwards, Thorsensel.”
“Who were they?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Heidel——”