The lamp burned low in Tim’s room. He stood still for a moment, studying the place. The door at the back must be a closet. He took off his boots and put them on the hearth and padded over to take a look. The floor boards creaked but he didn’t care. Sounds in the room would go unnoticed for a little while. He opened the door without a sound. The closet was empty and there was a door at the back. Tim tried the knob but the door was locked. Boots sounded on the floor beyond and he heard a tapping on the other side. He answered the tapping and heard the stealthy turn of a key. The knob moved and the door opened and Red whispered, “You game for a try?” “Let’s watch and listen for an hour or so.” Red shut the door on his side of the closet but Tim left his ajar. He walked without stealth, as he might if he were preparing to go to bed, and set to work packing his haversack with the things that by now were warm and dry. There was a big tin of matches on the bedside table. He put it into his haversack and rolled his blanket and laced it across the top of the sack. He cleaned his teeth with a bit of salt, regretting the loss of the taste of the dinner, and packed the brush. He raised the lamp chimney and blew out the flame, opened both windows a crack and hung his blouse on the polished bedpost. He lay on the bed with his feet toward the pillows, his chin cupped in his hand, and looked into the cold December night. In the hall there was a scraping of chairs and mumbled talk. Tim heard MacNeil bidding the guards good night, and then there was quiet. He thought, If we don’t act now we’ll be back in jail by tomorrow night. He felt his heart thumping against his ribs. If Kane had no sentries outside the house, they would make an attempt. They could jump to the ground. Tim moved to the window that faced the west. The scene was lit by a crescent moon. The leaves on the ground were stirred by gusts of chilly wind, and deep shadows lay across the grass. Lamplight winking beyond the trees showed Tim that the center of the village must be a half mile or so northwest. As he traced the wagon road to the edge of the trees he heard the sound of hoofs on the frozen ground and a rider came around the bend, big in the saddle and turning his head to left and right. The rider was Kane, there was no doubt of that. As Kane came close Tim thought he saw an unlit lantern in the man’s left hand, ready to be used as a signal perhaps. Kane was apparently doing the job himself. He passed the house, then shortly appeared again, riding back the way he had come. Before he reached the bend in the road he turned to the right and rode into a field to the west of the house. He paused in the middle, then cut back to the road again and disappeared behind the trees. Tim felt suddenly cold and began to shiver. He moved quietly back to the bed, put on his blouse and lay down to wait.