![]() All I'm going to do is hop over the wall. "Maggie, you're just making things sound awkward. The only window that seemed to be lit was an upstairs bay on the western side, and the drapes were drawn so tight that it was impossible to see inside. Further back, on the south side, there was a stately columned porch, but like everything else it was tangled with creeper and had a desolate, decayed air about it. There was a verandah around the southwest corner, which was the part of the house nearest to him, but all the windows around it seemed to be empty and dark. It was brooding and morose, with ranks of chimneys and twisting rivers of leafless creeper down every wall. The house itself was much larger than he had anticipated. He walked softly along the whole length of the verandah, concealed in shadow, until he reached the end of it, where the trunk of the creeper grew. He waited awhile and then went up the verandah's four wooden steps, taking care not to tread on the empty frames of abandoned deckchairs and the pieces of a garden swing. He heard a low, erratic, rumbling noise, but he guessed it was a distant airplane turning toward Dulles.ĭucking low, he ran across the open lawn until he reached the verandah. At a height of about ten or twelve feet, almost level with the verandah roof, he paused once more and listened for sound of the dogs. ![]() The thought that he might see Lorie made his heart pound.īreathing with tense, suppressed gasps, he reached up for higher branches and began to scale the creeper like a ladder. Gene reckoned that if he climbed up there, he could probably get his footing on the narrow gutter that extended tinder the window from the verandah roof and get a glimpse through a small crack in the drapes. There was a strong creeper which grew from the end of the verandah and twisted its way quite close to the lighted window. None of the windows on the south side were lit, so he went back to the edge of the copse and surveyed the west side again. There was a lurching noise as some of the dry branches gave way, but the main branch seemed to hold. Years ago, someone had nailed it pretty firmly to the wall, and he guessed it would probably take his weight He hung on to it with one hand, and then swung himself around and held on to it with both. Gene perched himself up on the verandah railing, and reached around to test the strength of the creeper. I'm only going to take a quick look around the grounds and maybe a fast check through the windows." Christ, Maggie, I'm not going to burglarize the place. Semples mistakenly took me for a prowler. All I have to say is that I was paying her a visit, and that the. "It won't do that, even if I'm caught red-handed. A freight train hooted mournfully in the distance and up above the clouds a jet scratched its way across the night sky. Through the trees he could see twinkling lights from the Semple mansion, but there was no sound at all, and no sign of the prowling guard dogs. He sat astride the wall, winding the rope and catching his breath. In three minutes he had scrambled up to the top. He just hoped that if he needed to climb back up his rope in a hurry, he could remember where it was. He straightened the revolver in his belt, and began to stalk carefully through the long grass, stopping every few moments to listen. She thought for a moment longer, and then she stood up. At one time, he thought he heard a faint crackling of leaves and twigs, but when he paused to catch the sound more distinctly, he realized it was probably just a bird in the upper branches of the oaks. Every now and then he stopped to listen for dogs, but the whole estate was buried deep in darkness and silence. Gene skirted along the southern side of the house, almost as far as the gravel drive that came from the main gateway. "You're paying a visit? At night? With a loaded gun?" He switched off the car's engine and sat there for four or five minutes, listening to the soft rustle of the night. He carried a small canvas bag with Mace gas and anti-dog sprays, a coil of rope around his shoulder, and a long-barreled. He was driving a rented, dark-blue Matador, and he was dressed in a black, polo-neck sweater, black corduroy pants, and a charcoal-gray cap pulled down over his eyes. It was a few minutes after eleven Thursday night when he arrived outside the Semple mansion.
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