ifted from the top of the wall, but right away down by
where he had entered the field.

Tom stole back, bending low the while, but saw nothing, nobody was
carrying a burden, and he was getting to be in despair, when all at once
there was the sound of a stifled sneeze, evidently from far along the
lane.

That was enough. Tom was back in the lane directly, keeping close to
the hedge, and following, he believed, some one who was making his way
from the village out toward the open country.

At the end of a minute he was sure that some one was about thirty yards
in front of him, and perfectly certain directly after that whoever it
was had turned off to the right along a narrow path between two hedges
which bounded the bottom of his uncle's field.

The path led round to the outskirts of the village, where there were
some scattered cottages beyond the church, and feeling sure that the
thief--if it was a thief--was making for there, Tom followed silently,
guided twice over by a faint sniff, and pausing now and then to listen
for some movement which he heard, the load the marauder carried brushing
slightly against the hedge.

Then all at once the sounds ceased, and though Tom went on and on, and
stopped to listen again and again, he could hear nothing. He hurried on
quickly now, but felt that nobody could be at hand, and hurried back,
peering now in the darkness to try and make out where the object of his
search had struck off from the narrow way.

But in the obscurity he could make out nothing, for he was very ignorant
about this track, never having been all along it before; and at last,
thoroughly discouraged, he went back, growing more and more annoyed at
his ill-success, and wishing he had made a rush and seized the thief at
once.

And now, feeling thoroughly tired, as well as damped in his ardour, Tom
reached the paling, climbed over into the shrubbery, reached the lawn,
over which he walked slowly toward the darkened house, where he paused,
and reached over to grasp the stout trellis, and spare David's
flower-bed.

It was very easy, almost as much so as climbing a ladder, and in a
minute he had reached first one arm and then the other over the
window-sill, and was about to climb in, when he almost let go and nearly
dropped back into the garden.

For there was a loud scratching noise, a line of light, and a wax-match
flashed out, and then burned steadily, lighting up Uncle Richard's stern
face and the little b