eemed to come from behind the convent wall; so he crept softly into
the narrow passageway just as the burglars had done. Here he could see
without being seen.

At first everything was so still that he thought he must have imagined
the cry, but soon heard the murmuring sound of voices so low that he
could not tell whether of men or women.

Jerry was frightened to death. If he alone had been in danger he would
have been brave, but with his delicate wife away, he knew not where, and
more conspiracies going on behind the convent wall, he found it hard to
decide just what he ought to do. Conflicting feelings put him in a sort
of panic, but he had sense enough left to keep absolutely still.

Before going in search of his wife he must find out what new plan the
rascals were hatching, so he stood, hardly daring to breathe.

The wind was sharp and keen. It swept across the wide common, whirling
up the dust, lifting the paper and rags and making them waltz. Ashes
fell like rain in the narrow passage where Jerry stood. Then a whooping
gust caught a lot of stuff, and forming a miniature cyclone, headed
straight for Jerry. Before the poor fellow knew what he was doing, he
had sneezed three times. The sound reverberated through the close
passage as if he had blown through a gigantic horn.

Now he was lost! The men must do either one of two things; they might
think they had been discovered, and run away, but the probability was
that they would first look over the convent wall to find out who had
sneezed. And then what?

Jerry seized a large boulder that lay at his feet. Though little and
old, he had good strength, and the first head that rose over the wall
meant a cracked skull.

"Jerry, Jerry?" He heard his name whispered by a strange voice. Where
did the sound come from? Under his very feet.

"Jerry, Jer-ry," a little louder, "where are you?"

"Here behind the wall," whispered Jerry. "Who are you?"

Then there came a sound of steps, a window was raised, a shutter flung
back.

At this Jerry could stand no more. He left his hiding-place, and strode
boldly, the big stone in his hand, to the front of his cottage in time
to see a sturdy leg emerging from his front window.

When the rest of the body followed, the mother of the little Outcasts
stood before Jerry's astonished eyes.

"For the land's sake! Are you the burglar?" says Jerry.

"For the land's sake, are you?" asked Mrs. Outcast, and both began to
laugh.

"And w