He suffered a good ten minutes' wait before his ruse was
rewarded. Being on the "fence" was a pastime compared to this
precarious test of his muscles. The two men who had followed the
first footprints tired of waiting before the house. One of them
determined to investigate the other steps, which led into the
house of their vigilance, from the other dwelling. And so he
followed on, to the vestibule where he rang the bell. Shirley
could have touched his head, so near he was, but the darkness of
the upper space covered the retreat of the criminologist.
"What do you want?" was the angry question of an indignant old
caretaker who answered the bell tardily. "You woke me up."
"Say, lady, can I speak to Mr. Montague Shirley?" began the man,
gingerly.
"You get away from this house, you loafer or I'll call the
police. No one by that name ain't here. Now, you get!"
She slammed the door in his face.
"I'll get Chuck to watch de udder joint," muttered the man, in a
tone audible to Shirley.
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