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Tracy, Louis, 1863-1928

"The Postmaster's Daughter"


Meanwhile, Furneaux had dodged into a lane and thence to a bridle-path
which emerged near Bob Smith's forge. When he had traversed, roughly
speaking, one-half of a rectangle in which the Hare and Hounds occupied
the center of one of the longer sides, he climbed a gate and followed a
hedge. Though not losing a second, he took every precaution to remain
unseen, and, to the best of his belief, gained an inclosed yard at the
back of Siddle's premises without having attracted attention. He slipped
the catch of a kitchen window only to discover that the sash was
fastened by screws also. The lock of the kitchen door yielded to
persuasion, but there were bolts above and below. A wire screen in a
larder window was impregnable. Short of cutting out a pane of glass, he
could not effect an entry on the ground floor.
Nimble as a squirrel, and risking everything, he climbed to the roof of
an outhouse, and tried a bedroom window. Here he succeeded. When the
catch was forced, there were no further obstacles. In he went, pausing
only to look around and see if any curious or alarmed eye was watching
him. He wondered why every back yard on that side of the high-street was
empty, not even a maid-servant or woman washing clothes being in sight,
but understood and grinned when the commotion Winter was creating came in
view from a front room.


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