Jimmie Dale shrugged his shoulders, as he opened a low gate in the fence
silently and stepped through, into the yard beyond, leaving the gate
open behind him. He was not a fool, blinded to what probably lay ahead!
He could not hope to reach the Tocsin, much less effect her rescue,
without warning the inmates of this house that loomed up before him now,
without a fight with the Mole and the Mole's gangsters. It was not
likely that _he_ could reach the shelter of that shed, but the Tocsin
could, and, once inside, throwing away her cloak and wig, "Silver Mag"
would disappear, and after that there was the Sanctuary, and then her
own brave wits. There came a queer twist to Jimmie Dale's lips, and then
a shrug of his shoulders again. It was not likely to be the ending to
the night that he had thought it might be when sitting there in Bristol
Bob's only a few short hours ago!
Faint streaks of light through the interstices of a shuttered window
showed just in front of him, as he stole forward across the yard. Window
or back door, it mattered little to Jimmie Dale now, so that he could
gain an entry into the house unobserved. It was very quiet--even
ominously quiet--that impression came to him suddenly again.
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