Not a human being was stirring within a mile of Moncrief House, the
chimneys of which, ghostly white on the side next the moon, threw
long shadows on the silver-gray slates. The stillness had just been
broken by the stroke of a quarter past twelve from a distant church
tower, when, from the obscurity of one of these chimney shadows, a
head emerged. It belonged to a boy, whose body presently wriggled
through an open skylight. When his shoulders were through he turned
himself face upward, seized the miniature gable in which the
skylight was set, drew himself completely out, and made his way
stealthily down to the parapet. He was immediately followed by
another boy.

The door of Moncrief House was at the left-hand corner of the front,
and was surmounted by a tall porch, the top of which was flat and
could be used as a balcony. A wall, of the same height as the porch,
connected the house front with the boundary wall, and formed part of
the enclosure of a fruit garden which lay at the side of the house
between the lawn and the playground. When the two boys had crept
along the parapet to a point directly above the porch they stopped,
and each lowered a pair of boots to the balcony by means of
fishing-lines. When the boots were safely landed, their owners let
the lines drop and reentered the house by another skylight. A minute
elapsed. Then they reappeared on the top of the porch, having come
out through the window to which it served as a balcony. Here they
put on their boots, and stepped on to the wall of the fruit garden.
As they crawled along it, the hindmost boy whispered.

"I say, Cashy."

"Shut up, will you," replied the other under his breath. "What's