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There was a narrow space between the house and what was the blank brick wall of the building next to it, and this space extended to the rear, and therefore, indirectly, by circling the house at the back, led to the house and the door in the fence again. Jimmie Dale smiled grimly, as he swung the old-fashioned windows back on either side.
Jimmie Dale chose the direction of the lane, reached the lane, and, still stumbling and lurching, made his way along for a distance of possibly fifty yards; then, well clear of the neighbourhood of Foo Sen's, he began to quicken his pace and twenty minutes later, frowning in disappointment, he was standing in front of Reddy Curley's liquor store, only to find that the place was already closed for the night.
The guests at Hallgrove Rectory this Christmas-time were Douglas Dale, Sir Reginald Eversleigh, a lady and gentleman called Mordaunt, and their two pretty, fair-faced daughters, and two other old friends of the rector's, one of whom is very familiar to us.
Dale was so far interested that he was seen to sniff twice, and was found to be observing the coffee as though he were a moth approaching a candle. He even forgot his Virgil in his desire to partake of the delicious stimulant. Miss Tredgold handed him a cup. "There," she said.
"I haven't been moaning for three years; but who could have put it up there?" "Catch it," said Lily; and she threw the bottle down on to a pile of carpets. At this moment a step was heard in the hall, and the squire entered through the open door of the room. "So you're all at work," said he. "Yes, we're at work," said Mrs Dale, almost with a tone of shame.
"Yes, it was the same one that his scapegrace nephew, Dale Wacker, was caught peddling the stolen pickles in. I saw Lem painting it fresh out in his shop only two days ago. You know I live just beyond him." "What color?" "Red." "Then Lem Wacker must know something about this burglary!" declared Bart. "I am sorry," again said the night watchman, after a long thoughtful silence on the part of Bart.
Why the deuce don't you yank a man out of bed at two o'clock in the morning and have done with it, and eh? Oh, that you, Carruthers?" "Yes," came Carruthers' voice excitedly. "Jimmie, listen listen! The Gray Seal's come to life! He's just pulled a break on West Broadway!" "Good Lord!" gasped Jimmie Dale. "You don't say!"
This was the question which he asked himself in those melancholy moments; while he was lying in bed, for instance, awake in the morning, when he was shaving himself, and sometimes also when the squire was prosy after dinner. At such times as these, while he would be listening to Mr Dale, his self-reproaches would sometimes be very bitter.
Then she told him the Colonel had been there, that Miss Liz had been there, that Nancy had been there; that they had stayed awhile, that they had left; she asked about Dale without giving him a chance to answer; she told him something bright Bip had said, something sagacious Mac had done and all the while the carriage was coming nearer!
Like lightning, Jimmie Dale, his tread silent on the heavy rugs, leaped back across the room, and in an instant slipped in behind the end hangings of the divan and stood, pressed closely, against the wall. A key turned stealthily in the lock, the door opened as stealthily then silence then a flashlight swept suddenly around the room darkness again and then a hoarse whisper: "All clear, Birdie.
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