Footsteps clicked from the opposite direction. A walking man approached along the street. He crossed toward the abandoned house, and paused to light a cigarette. The faint light of an old-fashioned street lamp showed that he wore a uniform.
Senov uttered a low exclamation. His companions stood tense beside him. Well did they know the purpose of this chance passer-by. He was one of the watchers who secretly patrolled this neighborhood.
Seemingly off duty, it was his real work to see that no prowlers lingered in the vicinity of the old house.
The soldier walked into the alley. Senov and his companions listened. Nothing disturbed the silence.
Senov uttered a low laugh.
The fate of the guard was obvious. Czarists, waiting for his arrival, had overpowered him the moment that he had stepped from the street.
Senov gave a firm command. The two men left him, and each went in an opposite direction. Senov waited. Soon new forms appeared. Silent men carried obscure objects into the alley. The dim lights of an automobile appeared at the corner. The lights were extinguished.
THROUGH the clear night air came the booming strokes of a distant clock. As the tenth stroke rang out, Senov walked firmly from his hiding place, and strode across the street.
As he came to the entrance of the alley, he uttered a sharp word that passed as a countersign. Two men emerged from the darkness, and stood aside, watching the entrance of the alley as Senov kept onward.
The leader reached the little door of the old house. His body showed against the white paint. Again he spoke. Two other men approached and stood beside him.