wn flush with the bottom of the sash. Trying the window
very cautiously, he found it locked. Not knowing just what to do, he
returned to the first window, and lay there peering in. The sill was
just high enough above the roof level to make it necessary to raise
himself a little on his hands to see inside, and the position was very
trying. Moreover, the tin roof had a tendency to crumple noisily when
he moved. He lay for some time, shivering in the chill, and wondering
whether it would be safe to light a pipe.

"There's another thing I'd better look out for," he thought, "and
that's a dog. Who ever heard of a German without a dachshund?"

He had watched the lighted doorway for a long while without seeing
anything, and was beginning to think he was losing time to no profit
when a stout and not ill-natured looking woman appeared in the hallway.
She came into the room he was studying, and closed the door. She
switched on the light, and to his horror began to disrobe. This was
not what he had counted on at all, and he retreated rapidly. It was
plain that nothing was to be gained where he was. He sat timidly at
one edge of the roof and wondered what to do next.

As he sat there, the back door opened almost directly below him, and he
heard the clang of a garbage can set out by the stoop. The door stood
open for perhaps half a minute, and he heard a male voice--Weintraub's,
he thought--speaking in German. For the first time in his life he
yearned for the society of his German instructor at college, and also
wondered--in the rapid irrelevance of thought--what that worthy man was
now doing to earn a living. In a rather long and poorly lubricated
sentence, heavily verbed at the end, he distinguished one phrase that
seemed important. "Nach Philadelphia gehen"--"Go to Philadelphia."

Did that refer to Mifflin? he wondered.

The door closed again. Leaning over the rain-gutter, he saw the light
go out in the kitchen. He tried to look through the upper portion of
the window just below him, but leaning out too far, the tin spout gave
beneath his hands. Without knowing just how he did it, he slithered
down the side of the wall, and found his feet on a window-sill. His
hands still clung to the tin gutter above. He made haste to climb down
from his position, and found himself outside the back door. He had
managed the descent rather more quietly than if it had been carefully
planned. But he was badly startled, and r