Upon his arriving at this place the pedestrian came to a halt, and, glancing furtively around, he affected to be expecting somebody.
Drawing himself under the wall, he looked round till he saw a shadow on the pavement, and heard a step quick, cautious, and as stealthy as his own.
He looked round again, and seeing no policeman in sight, he gave a low whistle, and as soon as it was responded to, advanced into the middle of the road. The other man did the same, and then said in a whisper—
“Any crushers?”
“No; the man on the beat has passed a few minutes since—the coast is clear.”
“Make tracks then.”
The two men went down the yard, and thence into a narrow deserted street, in which stood the house in the occupation of Laura Stanbridge.
They knocked in a peculiar manner at the door of the house, which to all appearance was uninhabited, for shutters were up before all the windows.
Any one, however, who supposed the habitation was without an occupant would be greatly mistaken.
The knocks were heard and answered on the instant.