"The approach is not all that can be desired,"remarked the detective as they entered what appeared to be a low shed."The broken board has been put back and securely nailed in place,and if I am not very much mistaken there is a fellow stationed in the yard who will want the pass-word too.Looks shady to me.I'll have something to tell the chief when I get back.""But we!What are we going to do if we cannot get in front or rear?
"We're going to wait right here in the hopes of catching a glimpse of our man as he comes out,"returned the detective,drawing George towards a low window overlooking the yard he had described as sentinelled."He will have to pass directly under this window on his way to the alley,"Sweetwater went on to explain,"and if I can only raise it -but the noise would give us away.I can't do that.""Perhaps it swings on hinges,"suggested George."It looks like that sort of a window.""If it should -well!it does.We're in great luck,sir.But before I pull it open,remember that from the moment I unlatch it,everything said or done here can be heard in the adjoining yard.
So no whispers and no unnecessary movements.When you hear him coming,as sooner or later you certainly will,fall carefully to your knees and lean out just far enough to catch a glimpse of him before he steps down from the porch.If he stops to light his cigar or to pass a few words with some of the men he will leave behind,you may get a plain enough view of his face or figure to identify him.The light is burning low in that rear hall,but it will do.
If it does not,-if you can't see him or if you do,don't hang out of the window more than a second.Duck after your first look.Idon't want to be caught at this job with no better opportunity for escape than we have here.Can you remember all that?"George pinched his arm encouragingly,and Sweetwater,with an amused grunt,softly unlatched the window and pulled it wide open.
A fine sleet flew in,imperceptible save for the sensation of damp it gave,and the slight haze it diffused through the air.Enlarged by this haze,the building they were set to watch rose in magnified proportions at their left.The yard between,piled high in the centre with snow-heaps or other heaps covered with snow,could not have been more than forty feet square.The window from which they peered,was half-way down this yard,so that a comparatively short distance separated them from the porch where George had been told to look for the man he was expected to identify.All was dark there at present,but he could hear from time to time some sounds of restless movement,as the guard posted inside shifted in his narrow quarters,or struck his benumbed feet softly together.
But what came to them from above was more interesting than anything to be heard or seen below.A man's voice,raised to a wonderful pitch by the passion of oratory,had burst the barriers of the closed hall in that towering third storey and was carrying its tale to other ears than those within.Had it been summer and the windows open,both George and Sweetwater might have heard every word;for the tones were exceptionally rich and penetrating,and the speaker intent only on the impression he was endeavouring to make upon his audience.That he had not mistaken his power in this direction was evinced by the applause which rose from time to time from innumerable hands and feet.But this uproar would be speedily silenced,and the mellow voice ring out again,clear and commanding.What could the subject be to rouse such enthusiasm in the Associated Brotherhood of the Awl,the Plane and the Trowel?There was a moment when our listening friends expected to be enlightened.A shutter was thrown back in one of those upper windows,and the window hurriedly,raised,during which words took the place of sounds and they heard enough to whet their appetite for more.But only that.The shutter was speedily restored to place,and the window again closed.A wise precaution,or so thought George if they wished to keep their doubtful proceedings secret.
A tirade against the rich and a loud call to battle could be gleaned from the few sentences they had heard.But its virulence and pointed attack was not that of the second-rate demagogue or business agent,but of a man whose intellect and culture rang in every tone,and informed each sentence.
Sweetwater,in whom satisfaction was fast taking the place of impatience and regret,pushed the window to before asking George this question:
"Did you hear the voice of the man whose action attracted,your attention outside the Clermont?""No."
"Did you note just now the large shadow dancing on the ceiling over the speaker's head?""Yes,but I could judge nothing from that."
"Well,he's a rum one.I shan't open this window again till he gives signs of reaching the end of his speech.It's too cold."But almost immediately he gave a start and,pressing George's arm,appeared to listen,not to the speech which was no longer audible,but to something much nearer -a step or movement in the adjoining yard.At least,so George interpreted the quick turn which this impetuous detective made,and the pains he took to direct George's attention to the walk running under the window beneath which they crouched.Someone was stealing down upon the house at their left,from the alley beyond.A big man,whose shoulder brushed the window as he went by.George felt his hand seized again and pressed as this happened,and before he had recovered from this excitement,experienced another quick pressure and still another as one,two,three additional figures went slipping by.Then his hand was suddenly dropped,for a cry had shot up from the door where the sentinel stood guard,followed by a sudden loud slam,and the noise of a shooting bolt,which,proclaiming as it did that the invaders were not friends but enemies to the cause which was being vaunted above,so excited Sweetwater that he pulled the window wide open and took a bold look out.George followed his example and this was what they saw:
