"
In an instant we were over the wall, in another on the lawn
behind the house. There was no moon. The very stars in their
courses had veiled themselves for our benefit. I crept at my
leader's heels to some French windows opening upon a shallow
veranda. He pushed. They yielded.
"Luck again," he whispered; "nothing BUT luck! Now for a light."
And the light came!
A good score of electric burners glowed red for the fraction of a
second, then rained merciless white beams into our blinded eyes.
When we found our sight four revolvers covered us, and between
two of them the colossal frame of Reuben Rosenthall shook with a
wheezy laughter from head to foot.
"Good-evening, boys," he hiccoughed. "Glad to see ye at last.
Shift foot or finger, you on the left, though, and you're a dead
boy. I mean you, you greaser!" he roared out at Raffles. "I
know you. I've been waitin' for you. I've been WATCHIN' you all
this week! Plucky smart you thought yerself, didn't you? One
day beggin', next time shammin' tight, and next one o' them old
pals from Kimberley what never come when I'm in. But you left
the same tracks every day, you buggins, an' the same tracks every
night, all round the blessed premises."
"All right, guv'nor," drawled Raffles; "don't excite. It's a
fair cop. We don't sweat to know 'ow you brung it orf.
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