"Do you chuck it or light it?" asked Nixon.
"You light it. At least, you shove it into the fire, and it goes off in about ten minutes. You see the idea? If Bashan doesn't see us put anything into the form-room fire, he will think it was something wrong with the coal."
The Anarchists, much interested, murmured approval.
"Good egg!" observed the President. "We'll put it into the fire to-morrow morning before he comes in, and after we have been at work ten minutes or so the thing will go off and blow the whole place to smithereens."
"Golly!" gobbled the Anarchists.
"What about us, Stinker?" inquired a cautious conspirator. "Shan't we get damaged?"
Stinker waved away the objection.
"We shall know it's coming," he said; "so we shall be able to dodge. But it will be a nasty jar for Bashan."
There was a silence, full of rapt contemplation of to-morrow morning. Then the discordant voice of Ashley minor broke in.
"I don't believe it will work. All your inventions are putrid, Stinker."