Dalgetty winced, straining his ear against the grotto side. Surely enough of their speech would come to him, even through all that rock! The noise level was high but the human mind, if trained in concentration, is an efficient filter. The outside racket receded from Dalgetty's awareness and slowly he gathered in the trickle of sound.
First man: "—no matter. What can they do?"
Second man: "Complain to the government. Do you want the FBI on our trail? I don't."
First man: "Take it easy. They haven't yet done so and it's been a good week now since—"
Second man: "How do you know they haven't?"
Third man—heavy, authoritative voice. Yes, Dalgetty remembered it now from TV speeches—it was Bancroft himself: "I know. I've got enough connections to be sure of that."
Second man: "Okay, so they haven't reported it. But why not?"
Bancroft: "You know why. They don't want the government mixing into this any more than we do."
Woman: "Well, then, are they just going to sit and take it? No, they'll find some way to—"
"HELLO, THERE, MISTER!!!"