A low whistle was heard, which Peace answered by a similar sound.
The two robbers were very soon in close conference.
“Any blokes about?” said Bill.
“Not a living soul besides ourselves—at least, none that I have seen. And you?”
“All’s still and quiet. The gentlemen who live in these ere parts go early to roost, it would appear. And how about cracking the crib?”
“Leave that to me,” said Peace. “It’s an easy job enough, I fancy.”
The speaker led the way to the side of the premises.
Peace set to work on one of the windows which with his accustomed skill he contrived to open. The window was drawn down, the gipsy gave his companion a “leg up,” and in another moment our hero was inside. He had on at this time some yachting boots, the soles of which were made of vulcanised india-rubber, and his footsteps were almost noiseless.
Passing through the room he had entered, he crept downstairs and undid the bolts and other fastenings of the front door.
This done, he beckoned to his companion.