“Caretaker prowling around,” returned Jim. “Keep still, he’s coming this way.”
The form of a man loomed up before them and they held their breath as the man passed within five feet of them. When he had turned the corner of the house back of them they breathed in relief.
“Narrow escape, that,” commented Chucklehead.
“Yeah,” agreed Jim. “Well, I guess he has gone around to the other side of the house. Lucky thing he didn’t come and catch us under the window. Let’s look this side over before he returns.”
They crept along the side of the house, examining windows and testing them, but they were all firm. At last the two friends drew back under a tree.
“It’s no use,” groaned Jim. “We can’t get into the house.”
“It would be a rough joke on us if Don wasn’t in there, after all,” commented the disappointed Terry.
“But he must be. Too bad we can’t get at the second floor windows. Surely a bedroom window must be open.”
“No doubt. But who wants to climb into a bedroom, to have a lady yell blue murder or get shot at?”
“I hope it wouldn’t be as bad as all that. Say! This tree arches right over that porch roof!”