CHAPTER XXI
That night Storch confirmed Fred’s intuitions. He said, pausing a moment over gulping his inevitable bread and cheese:
“I have planned everything for Saturday.”
Fred cut himself a slice of bread. “So I understand,” he said, coldly.
“Who told you?”
“Your companions are great gossips ... and I have ears.”
The insolence in Fred’s tone made Storch knit his brows.
“Well, knowing so much, you must be ready for details now,” he flung out.
Fred nodded.
Storch lighted his pipe and glowered. “The launching is to take place at noon. Hilmer has planned to arrive at the yards promptly at eleven forty-five at the north gate. Everything is ready, down to the last detail.”
“Including the bomb?” Fred snapped, suddenly.
“Including the bomb,” Storch repeated, malevolently, caressing the phrase with a note of rare affection. “It is the most skillful arrangement I have seen in a long time ... in a kodak case. By the way ... are you accurate at heaving things?... You are to stand upon the roof of a row of one-story stores quite near the entrance and promptly at the precise minute—”
“Ah, a time bomb!”
“Naturally.”
“And if Hilmer should be late?”
“He is always on time... And, besides, there is a special reason. He wants the launching accomplished on the stroke of noon.”
“And if he comes too early?”
“Impossible. He went south last week ... you knew that, of course. And he doesn’t get into San Francisco until late that morning. He is to be met at Third and Townsend streets and go at once to Oakland in his machine... There will be four in the party ... perhaps six.”