It was Carl who spoke, and the tone in which his soft, refined voice uttered the words left the Dreadnought Boy no room to doubt that if the two plotters had imagined he had overheard them they would have done something exceedingly unpleasant to prevent their secret being betrayed. As it was, however, they seemed to feel no uneasiness and resumed their conversation.
"The yacht will be waiting at Boco del Toros, about ten miles above Guantanamo Bay," continued the black-browed man. Herc recognized his bearlike growl. "All we have to do when we get the plans is to steal aboard and sail. Her captain will be prepared for us, and will take us on board when we give the signal."
"Then all that we will have to do will be to waylay Varian," said Carl in his soft way, which, mild as it seemed, yet impressed Herc with the same sense of chill as if the cold muzzle of a revolver had been pressed to the nape of his neck.
"That's it. An easy way of earning ten thousand dollars, eh?"
"Yes, if—if we don't get caught."
"No fear of that," laughed the black-browed man; "at any rate, if we are it will be our own fault. But I see no chance of a slip-up. Varian sails from New York to Havana on a vessel of the Ward line. He will put up at a hotel at Guantanamo. We are to meet the others ashore, and if all goes well we'll finish our business in a few hours. If not——"
"Well, if not, we'll have to get what we're after from the captain himself, and that's going to be difficult and perhaps fatal for him."
"Well, I've taken longer chances than that for less money," laughed Carl's companion. "Lucky thing they didn't look back into our records, or they'd have found out a thing or two which would have made us very undesirable subjects for Uncle Sam's navy. Likewise Kennell, I guess. I'd 'a' hard time to get him to join, but a golden bait will catch the shyest fish."
Carl gave a high-pitched chuckle, almost a giggle, but the two worthies instantly lapsed into what seemed sullen silence as the key of their jailer grated in the lock of the bulkhead door.
As for Herc, he judged that his best and safest course was to emit a loud snore, which he did. So well was his slumber simulated that the master-at-arms who had entered, accompanied by two orderlies carrying the prisoners' food, exclaimed in an astonished tone: