earth, he had reached the gate by which he had
seen the girl of his morning walk enter the cedar-
bordered garden. He stopped at the gate and
glanced toward the house, which seemed dark and
silent and deserted.

"It's more than likely," he thought, "that they
are in the kitchen. I reckon I'd better try the
back door."

But as he drew cautiously near the corner, he
saw a man's figure outlined in the yellow light
streaming from the open door of a small house
between Front Street and the cooper shop. Wishing,
for reasons of his own, to avoid observation,
Warwick did not turn the corner, but walked on
down Front Street until he reached a point from
which he could see, at a long angle, a ray of light
proceeding from the kitchen window of the house
behind the cedars.

"They are there," he muttered with a sigh of
relief, for he had feared they might be away. "I
suspect I'll have to go to the front door, after all.
No one can see me through the trees."

He retraced his steps to the front gate, which
he essayed to open. There was apparently some
defect in the latch, for it refused to work. Warwick
remembered the trick, and with a slight sense