uld he awaken Watkins? What was
the use? Watkins would probably jump up, exclaiming aloud. He always did
when awakened suddenly. Perhaps, after all, he could alarm the family
before the man got in. Then, to his amazement, someone opened the window
from the _inside_. By this time Buck had got his "night-sight." The man
inside was exactly like the man outside, and he had evidently effected
an entrance into the house some time during the day when the maids were
upstairs, and had probably concealed himself in the cellar. Both wore
masks. Instantly Buck was out of bed, dragging on his trousers. Then,
barefooted and shirtless, he slipped downstairs, slid the side door open
enough to squeeze through, and peered out. All he could see was the last
leg of a man disappearing through the window. They were both inside now.
Buck knew every room, hall and door in that house, for every spring
and fall he had helped the maids "clean house," taking up and laying
carpets. The knowledge stood him in good stead now. What window upstairs
would be open, he wondered. The bath-room, of course; it was small, but
he could wriggle through it, he told himself, or he would break every
bone in his body, at least, trying. All this time he was running and
crouching along the shadow of the high stone wall, that, bordered with
shrubs, made splendid "cover." He reached the kitchen, and, without
waiting to think whether it would bear him or not, seized hold of the
twisted vine trunks of the old Virginia creeper that partly covered the
house from ground to roof. Fortunately they held, and up he went like a
young squirrel, his bare toes clutching like claws in the tangle of the
stems and twigs. He gained the roof, crawled rapidly along, and reached
the bath-room window, only to find he could barely clutch the sill with
the tips of his fingers. Standing on tiptoe, he got a little grip, then
his bare toes and knees started to work; inch by inch up they went over
the rough stone wall, while his hands slipped further and further over
the sill, until they could seize the ledge on the inside. Twice his
knees slid back, then his toes refused to clutch. They grew wet, and
warm, and he knew the sickening slipping back was because of blood
oozing from his skin. But he was in the bath-room now, and didn't care.
Then, as he flung the door open, the whole downstairs hall was flooded
with light, and a strange choking sound came from below. Then the
doctor's voice, smothered