"I would prefer to use the clockwork detonating gear. It is infinitely safer," objected Oberfurst.
"Impracticable," decided his companion. "It is no use setting the thing hours ahead. It is a question of minutes. Say three: that will give you ample time to light the fuse and return on deck."
Apparently the spy made a gesture that denoted unwillingness—for the count continued:
"The Americans, as you know well, have a saying 'Money talks.' Here is a sum on account," and the two British officers could distinctly hear the crinkling of crisp paper.
"No gold," said the spy firmly. "The Fatherland has plenty in reserve for use in circumstances such as the present."
"Himmel! You cannot carry ten thousand marks in gold to England."
"I do not intend to do so, Count. I will see that it is placed in the Esbjerg branch of the Danish State Bank."
"Ach! You are perverse," almost shouted the Kaiser's emissary. "Do you think that the car is laden with gold?"
A rupture seemed imminent, until Otto Oberfurst, overcome by his innate greed, exclaimed:
"Well, Count, under protest I will take the notes; but they must be at the local rates of exchange."