lying a couple of yards past the
opening of the door and his two friends were probably examining him.
Accordingly I stepped softly along the room and took up a position
behind the screen in a recess of the folds. My movements had evidently
been unobserved and my new position enabled me to peep out into the
hall--at some risk of being seen--and to hear all that passed.

"For the moment there was nothing to hear but a faint rustling from the
two men and an occasional creak from the upper stairs. But presently I
caught a hoarse whisper.

"'Dam funny. He seems to be dead.'

"'Yus; he do look like it,' the other agreed and then added
optimistically, 'but p'raps he's only took queer.'

"'Dam!' was the impatient rejoinder. 'I tell yer he's dead--dead as a
pork chop.'

"There was another silence and then, in a yet softer whisper, a voice
asked:

"'D'yer think somebody's been and done 'im in, Fred?'

"'Don't see no marks,' answered Fred; 'besides there ain't no one here.
Hallo! what's that?'

"'That' was a loud creak on the upper stairs near the first-floor
landing, doubtless emanating from Miss Slodger or the cook. I have no
doubt that these sounds of stealthy movement were highly disturbing to
the burglars, especially in the present circumstances. And so it
appeared, for the answer came in an obviously frightened whisper:
'There's someone on the stairs, Fred. Let's hook it. This job ain't no
class.'

"'What!' was the indignant reply. ''Ook it and leave all that stuff. Not
me! Nor you neither. There's more'n what one of us can carry. And you
put away that barker or else you'll be lettin' it off and bringin' in
the coppers. D'ye 'ear?'

"'Ain't going to be done in the dark same as what Joe's been,' the
other whispered sulkily. 'If anyone comes down 'ere, I pots 'im.'

"At this moment there was another very audible creak from above, and
then followed rapidly a succession of events which I subsequently
disentangled, but which, at the time, were involved in utter confusion.
What actually happened was that Fred had begun boldly to ascend the
stairs, in some way missing the fishing-line, and being closely followed
by his more nervous comrade. The latter, less fortunate, caught his foot
in the line, stumbled, tightened the line and brought the shot-bag
hopping down the stairs. What I heard was the sound of the stumble,
followed by the quick thud, thud, of the descending shot-bag, exactly
resembling the footfalls of a he