Presently Keggs,
yawning loudly, had toddled along the passage, bolted the door, and
made his way upstairs to bed, leaving Steve to his vigil.
Steve's reflections during this period had not been of the pleasantest.
Exactly what his explanation was to be, if by any mischance he should
make a noise and be detected, he had been unable to decide. Finally he
had dismissed the problem as insoluble, and had concentrated his mind
on taking precautions to omit any such noise.
So far he had succeeded. He had found his way to the nursery easily
enough, having marked the location earnestly on his previous visits.
During the whole of his conversation with Keggs in the pantry he had
been repeating to himself the magic formula which began: "First
staircase to the left--turn to the right-----" and here he was now at
his goal and ready to begin.
But it was just this question of beginning which exercised him so
grievously. How was he to begin? Should he go straight to the cot and
wake the kid? Suppose the kid was scared and let out a howl?
A warm, prickly sensation about the forehead was Steve's silent comment
on this reflection. He took a step forward and stopped again. He was
conscious of tremors about the region of the spine. The thought crossed
his mind at that moment that burglars earned their money.
As he stood, hesitating, his problem was solved for him.
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