ave been
able to kick it open, but of course this was not to be thought of, as
the noise would at once attract the attention of those interested in
frustrating his plans.

Fortunately, Jack was provided with a large, sharp jack-knife. He did
not propose, however, to commence operations at present. In the daytime
he would be too subject to a surprise. With evening, he resolved
to commence his work. He might be unsuccessful, and subjected, in
consequence, to a more rigorous confinement; but of this he must run the
risk. "Nothing venture, nothing have."

Jack awaited the coming of evening with impatience. The afternoon had
never seemed so long.

It came at last--a fine moonlight night. This was fortunate, for his
accommodating host, from motives of economy possibly, was not in the
habit of providing him with a candle.

Jack thought it prudent to wait till he heard the city clocks pealing
the hour of twelve. By this time, as far as he could see from his
windows, there were no lights burning, and all who occupied the building
were probably asleep.

He selected that part of the door which he judged to be directly under
the bolt, and began to cut away with his knife. The wood was soft, and
easy of excavation. In the course of half an hour Jack had cut a hole
sufficiently large to pass his hand through, but found that, in order
to reach the bolt, he must enlarge it a little. This took him fifteen
minutes longer.

His efforts were crowned with success. As the city clock struck one
Jack softly drew back the bolt, and, with a wild throb of joy, felt that
freedom was half regained. But his (sic) embarassments were not quite
at an end. Opening the door, he found himself in the entry, but in the
darkness. On entering the house he had not noticed the location of the
stairs, and was afraid that some noise or stumbling might reveal to
Foley the attempted escape of his prisoner. He took off his boots, and
crept down-stairs in his stocking feet. Unfortunately he had not kept
the proper bearing in his mind, and the result was, that he opened the
door of a room on one side of the front door. It was used as a bedroom.
At the sound of the door opening, the occupant of the bed, Mr. Foley
himself, called out, drowsily, "Who's there?"

Jack, aware of his mistake, precipitately retired, and concealed himself
under the front stairs, a refuge which his good fortune led him to, for
he could see absolutely nothing.

The sleeper, just awake