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can get into this house.”
    â€œAnyone in the room?”
    â€œI don’t know. We must take our chance. I don’t think so, unless he’s still asleep; if he’d been wakened by the noise he’d have had his head out of the window before now.”
    â€œI suppose it’s the only thing to do. We might get through quietly and out at the back.”
    Sam began to let himself down the side of the gable while Rezaire watched him. The old fear was creeping over him again. But watching Sam do it seemed so easy. He just let himself cautiously down still holding the side of the attic window till his feet rested on the gutter at the edge of the roof. Then having tested the strength of the gutter he shifted his grip round to the front of the window which, as Rezaire had observed, was open, till he was at length kneeling on the sill.
    Helped by Sam, Rezaire accomplished the journey with comparative ease, and in another moment they were in the absolute darkness of the room. As soon as they had entered, they instinctively drew away from the window that they might not show up against the light and waited in perfect silence, though Rezaire was fairly certain the room was empty. Anyone who had been in it, even if asleep, could not have failed to have been wakened by the noise of their entry and their climbing about on the roof.
    Not a sound could be heard, not even the regular breathing of a sleeping being. By good luck they had struck an empty room.
    At last Rezaire made a slight move in the direction of the door. He had not taken a pace before a girl’s voice cried: “Hands up!” and a ray of light from a torch leaped into their eyes, momentarily blinding them. Just within the circle of light there appeared the barrel of a revolver.

CHAPTER VI
    NIGHT OPERATIONS
    They both stayed absolutely still for the space of a few seconds. The whole thing was so utterly unexpected. To creep into an empty room and find it occupied by a girl with a revolver. Rezaire realized that she must have heard them for some time and that the reason for his thinking the room was unoccupied was that she had been sitting there in the dark waiting for them.
    The light and the revolver still pointed steadily at them. Then suddenly Sam laughed.
    â€œWell done, Miss,” he said, “but you’ve got the wrong people. May we have some light?”
    With the utmost coolness he struck a match and, quite unconscious of the revolver which followed his movements, walked to a gas bracket and lighted it.
    As the flame lit up the room, Rezaire gave a sigh of relief. Their adversary was only a girl of about nineteen or twenty who was sitting up in bed—torch in one hand and pistol—of an old-fashioned make—in the other.
    He noted the steadiness with which she held them, but his practiced glance saw instantly that her wrists were resting on her knees as if to prevent any wavering. Her eyes he could not see properly because of the torch, but he suddenly felt certain that she was afraid.
    â€œPut your hands up,” suddenly said the girl again, as Sam finished lighting the gas, “or I’ll fire.”
    â€œDon’t fire at us,” replied Sam, still with that easy tolerance. “We’re not burglars. In fact, we’re after them instead.” Rezaire could see that he was going on the same line as he himself had suggested earlier when they were in Mrs. Gibson’s house, that of pretending to be detectives. “Now tell me,” went on Sam, “have you seen or heard anything in this room during the last hour?”
    â€œNo, I haven’t,” the girl answered, but the revolver still pointed at Sam’s chest.
    â€œDo put that gun down, please,” began Rezaire, now taking a hand in the game. He could see that it was imperative that they got through into the house as soon as possible and that this girl was not frightened into giving the alarm. “You’re a plucky little