"Great Scott!" exclaimed Walter. "This isn't a particularly cheerful abode, is it, sergeant?"
"No, sir, if I lived 'ere I'd have the blues in a week," laughed the man. "I can't think 'ow Mr. Bailey employs 'is time."
"Poultry-farming," laughed Fetherston, as, standing on tiptoe, he examined the window-latch by flashing on the electric torch.
"No good!" he declared. "There's a shutter covered with new sheet-iron behind."
"It doesn't show through the curtain," exclaimed Deacon.
"But it's there. Our friend is evidently afraid of burglars."
From window to window they passed, but the mystery was considerably increased by the discovery that at each of those on the ground floor were iron-faced shutters, though so placed as not to be noticeable behind the windows, which were entirely covered with cheap curtain muslin.
"That's funny!" exclaimed the sergeant. "I've never examined them with a light before."
"They have all been newly strengthened," declared Fetherston. "On the other side I expect there are strips of steel placed lattice-wise, a favourite device of foreigners. Mr. Bailey," he added, "evidently has no desire that any intruder should gain access to his residence."
"What shall we do?" asked Deacon, for it was now rapidly growing dark.