Then he put the fireboard back in its place and stepped forward.
The floor creaked and startled him, and he walked quickly to the door.
As he reached it the sleeper started, turned in bed, raised his head, and glanced toward the window, while he muttered: "What a deuce of a storm is raging."
Then back dropped his head, and he did not see the boy crouching down within two feet of him, and who held, grasped firmly and ready for use, a boot-jack, that his hand accidently touched.
Had the man attempted to get out of bed, or had he glanced toward the boy, he would have felt the weight of the boot-jack, for Will was determined to escape at all hazards, even if he had to strike at human life, for he did not doubt, coming to this room as he had from the den of the Land Sharks, that the occupant was one of the band.
But, fortunately for the man he dropped off to sleep again, and fortunately, too, for Will, who might have made a miss blow and then been killed or captured.
As soon as the heavy breathing of the man indicated that he was once more asleep, Will turned to the door and placed his hand upon the key. He turned it slowly in the lock, and yet it creaked loudly to his ears; but the noise of the storm without drowned the sound as far as waking the sleeper was concerned.
Taking hold of the knob he drew back the latch, and moved the door. It creaked loudly, so he shut it to quickly as he saw the man move uneasily. He kept still, and the man once more breathed naturally in his slumber.
Drawing the key from the door Will then opened it quickly and stepped outside, closed it after him, though trembling at the loud creaking sound it made.
At the same time he thrust the key in the door and turned it, just as he heard the man spring out of bed.