The thief had heard
this old marksman-maxim fifty times. But, like most hearers of
maxims, he had forgotten it at the one time in his speckled
career when it might have been of any use to him.
He had fired. He had missed. In another second, every sleeper in
the house and in the gate-lodge would be out of bed. His night's
work was a blank, unless--
With a bull rush he hurled himself forward at the interestedly
waiting Lad. And, as he sprang, he fired again. Then several
things happened.
Everyone, except movie actors and newly-appointed policemen,
knows that a man on foot cannot shoot straight, unless he is
standing stock still. Yet, as luck would have it, this second
shot found a mark where the first and better aimed bullet had
gone wild.
Lad had leaped the narrow and deep ditch left along the lawn-edge
by workers who were putting in a new water-main for the Place. On
the far side of this obstacle he had stopped, and had waited for
his friend to follow. But the friend had not followed. Instead,
he had been somehow responsible for a spurt of red flame and for
a most thrilling racket.
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48