n and again he was on the point of rushing off, leaping the wall,
and making for the open country, when at last he heard some faint noise
coming out of the darkness.

Once he felt that all was over, and there was nothing left for him to do
but flee. For there were heavy steps in the lane coming nearer and
nearer, till they stopped opposite the gate, and Sam's heart throbbed
like the beating of a soft mallet.

"Policeman!" he thought, and he would have turned to run, but his feet
felt as if glued to the ground, and the agony he suffered was intense.

Just as he was at the worst point, there was a scratching sound, a gleam
of light, the smell of tobacco, and directly after the steps were heard
again, to pass on and die out in the distance.

"`Conscience makes cowards of us all,'" Sam might have said, but he did
not know the words; and so he only wiped his forehead, and began to
think of how he could get back to town, for it was perfectly evident
that Pete had got all he could out of him, and, so far from returning
with a ladder, in all probability he had invented the whole story, and
there was no ladder anywhere nearer than in the rascal's imagination.

The moments passed on like minutes, and Sam felt as if an hour must have
passed.

"It's of no use," he said to himself; "he has been too sharp for me, and
I shall have to come down as the dad said, and take my chance. I can do
no more."

He sighed in his misery and dread, for he knew that there was an
all-night walk before him, till he could take one of the earliest
morning trains somewhere on the road. But it had to be done, and he
went from out of the deep black shadow of the mill to the wall where he
came over, and was in the act of raising himself up, when his neck was
caught as if in a fork, and he was thrown down on to his back. Then, as
he struggled up, he grasped the fact that Pete must have been coming
back, and thrust the top of the ladder over first, sending the ends on
each side of his neck.

"Don't do that, mate," came to him in a sharp whisper from the wall.
"Ketch hold and steady it while I run it to you."

Sam caught hold of the ladder eagerly, forgetting the pain in
satisfaction, and the next minute the bottom round rested on the top of
the wall. Then Pete crept over, slug fashion, and lifted the end off
and set it down.

"There y'are," he said.

"What a while you've been," whispered Sam.

"Oh, have I! Juss you go and fetch it yerself,