the inside of the house he could locate
Ruth's room again, but from the outside it was impossible for him to do
it.

The whole house, of course, was thoroughly guarded against his attack,
for attack they knew he would. The only question was from what angle he
would deliver his assault. In that case, of course, the correct thing
was to find the unexpected means. But how could he outguess a band of
trained criminals? They would have foreseen far greater subtleties than
any he could attempt. They would be so keen that the best way to take
them by surprise might be simply to step up to the house, ring the door
bell and enter, if the door were opened.

The idea intrigued him at once. They might be, and no doubt were,
guarding every obscure cellar window, every skylight. To trick them was
impossible, but it was always possible to bluff any man--even John Mark
and his followers.

Straight across the street marched Ronicky Doone and up the steps of the
opposite house and rang the bell--not a timid ring, but two sharp
pressures, such as would announce a man in a hurry, a brisk man who did
not wish to be delayed.

He took only one precaution, pulling his hat down so that the black
shadow of the brim would fall like a robber's mask across the upper part
of his face. Then he waited, as a man both hurried and certain, turning
a little away from the door, at an angle which still more effectually
concealed him, while he tapped impatiently with one foot.

Presently the door opened, after he made certain that someone had looked
out at him from the side window. How much had they seen? How much had
they guessed as to the identity of this night visitor? The softness of
the opening of the door and the whisper of the wind, as it rushed into
the hall beyond, were like a hiss of threatening secrecy. And then, from
the shadow of that meager opening a voice was saying: "Who's there?"

The very caution, however, reassured Ronicky Doone. Had they suspected
that it was he they would either have kept the door definitely closed,
or else they would have flung it open and boldly invited him in.

"I want to see Harry Morgan--quick!" he said and stepped close to the
door.

At his bold approach the door was closed like the winking of an eye,
until it was barely an inch ajar.

"Keep back!" came the warning through this small opening. "Keep clear,
bo!"

"Damnation!" exclaimed Ronicky. "What's the idea? I want Harry, I tell
you."

"Harry ain't