He stopped at the gate. After a moment's hesitation he lifted the rusty latch and jerked the gate open far enough to allow him to squeeze through. Then he paused to sweep the landscape with an inquiring eye. Far up the pike a load of fodder moved slowly. There were cattle in the pasture near at hand, but no human being to observe his actions. In a distant upland field men were moving among a multitude of corn-shocks, trailing the horses and wagons that belonged to Alix Crown. Crows cawed in the trees on the eastern edge of the strip of meadowland, and on high soared two or three big birds,--hawks or buzzards, he knew not which,--circling slowly in the arc of the steel blue sky. Confident that he was unobserved, he made his way up the half-buried walk to the porch, and, deliberately mounting the steps, tried the door-knob. As he expected, the door was locked. After another searching look in all directions, he started off through the tangle of weeds and burdocks to circle the house. He passed through what once must have been the tennis-court of Alix the First,--now a weedy patch,--and came to the back door. Below him lay the deserted stables and outbuildings, facing the barnyard in which a few worn-out farm implements were to be seen, weather-beaten skeletons of a past generation. There was no sign of human life. A lean and threadbare scarecrow flapped his ragged coat-sleeves in the wind that swept across the barren garden patch farther up the slope,--this was the nearest approach to human life that came within the range of vision. And as if to invite jovial companionship, this pathetic gentleman wore his ancient straw hat cocked rakishly over what would have been his left ear if he had had any ears at all. While standing before the gate, Courtney had come to a sudden, amazing decision. He resolved to enter and explore the house if it were possible to do so. He remembered that Mrs. Strong, in pursuing the subject, had declared that Alix and David were not even permitted to return to the house for their literary products; moreover, she doubted very much whether the former had taken the trouble to recover them after she became sole possessor of the property. If they were still there, with other tangible proofs of an adolescent intimacy, he saw no reason why he should not lay eyes,--or even hands,--upon them. He saw no wrong in the undertaking. It was a justifiable adventure, viewed from the standpoint of a lover whose claim was in doubt. The back door was locked and the window shutters securely nailed. Entrance to the cellar was barred by heavy scantlings fastened across the sloping hatch. In the barnyard he found a stout single-tree. With this he succeeded in prying off the two scantlings. The staple holding the padlock was easily withdrawn from one of the rotten boards.