There was the store. He could see it already. And now there was nothing to do but to get in and take the money, which he had no doubt was waiting ready to his hand.
Perhaps he might be fortunate enough to secure it without waking the boy. He hoped so, at any rate, for he was not a desperate or cruel man. He did not wish to injure Ernest unless it should be absolutely necessary.
Arriving at his destination, he paused to reconsider.
He did not expect to enter by the front door. He did not as yet know whether there was any other. But at any rate there must be a window somewhere, and he preferred to get in that way.
He walked around to the rear of the store, and there he discovered the window. He had been afraid it might be blockaded with shelves, that would make entrance difficult, but fortunately this did not appear to be the case. He stood at the window and looked in.
The faint moonlight did not enable him to penetrate the interior very far, but he could make out something. There were goods of various kinds scattered about, and he could just see a recumbent figure on a bed near the counter.
“That’s the boy,” he said to himself. “I wonder if he is asleep.”
There seemed to be no doubt on this point.
But for the indistinct light Tom Burns might have thought the outstretched figure rather large for a boy. But he only glanced at it furtively.
The next thing to consider was whether the window was fastened. In that case he would have some difficulty, though for this he was prepared, having an instrument by which he could cut a pane of glass, and, thrusting in his hand, unfasten the catch.