Each was busy with his own thoughts.
All at once, one of the three newcomers spoke--a tall, light-haired fellow, he seemed, in that dim light, with a strong Southern accent.
"Pardon me for asking, Gabriel," said he, removing a pipe from his mouth, "or for discussing details familiar to you all.

But, coming as I _have_ come direct from the New Orleans refuge--they blew it up, last week, you know--of course I haven't got things as clearly in mind yet, as you-all have.

Now, as I understand it, while we manoeuvre over the plant, blow up the barricades and, if possible, 'get' the oxygen-tanks, our men on the ground will pour in through the gaps and storm the place, under the command of Edward Hargreaves.

Is that the idea ?" "Exactly, Comrade Marion," answered Gabriel.

"You've hit it to a T." Craig laughed grimly, as he drew at his pipe.
"Just as we're going to hit those big tanks!" said he.