"Hand it to one of the fellows. Estuban, Bull and I will go over the fences and break in the back way. You other fellows hide yourselves up and down the block here, but choose places where you can watch that house. If anybody comes out you are to jump on him and frisk him for the little black book, see? If it isn't on him let him go. If we get in the rear all right, and want your help, one of us will come to the front door, and saw his arm up and down so, like a semaphore." There was a flight of steps down to the rear basement-door of the apartment house. An eight-foot fence separated the narrow yard here from the yard of the first dwelling. Greg and Estuban boosted Bull up on top; Bull from the top and Greg at the bottom hoisted Estuban up; then the two already up each reached Greg a hand. Once up they found the way was easier than they had expected. There was a longitudinal fence separating the yards of all the houses on Seventeenth Street from those in Sixteenth. This fence was topped by a three-inch plank along which Greg and Estuban were able to walk upright. Bull, less sure-footed, straddled it and hunched himself along. At one of the back yards a cautious householder had set his fence with great spikes against cats or marauders. Here they had to drop down and go around. The sky was overcast and it was very dark. Few lights showed in the back windows. They reached the sixth yard at last and silently dropped to earth. The back of the house facing them at first glance showed no gleam of light, but upon looking closer they saw that the principal room on the second floor was lighted. In two of the three windows on this floor cracks of light showed around the edges of the opaque blinds that had been pulled down. Two windows and a door gave on the yard. The windows were barred, so they could be left open in hot weather, but the door had no outer protection, and glass panes had been let in the upper panels. "Here's where the glass-cutter comes in handy," murmured Greg. "Good old Bessie!" They wrapped a handkerchief around the tool to deaden the sound as far as possible. Nearest to the lock of the door Greg traced a square big enough to admit his hand. There was nothing to do but let the piece fall inside. "If the sound of it brings them we'll already be in," said Greg grimly. He struck the outlined square a light blow with his fist and it tinkled to the floor within. Thrusting his arm through the hole he drew the bolt and turned the key. They stole in. Greg gave his pocket light a swift flash around. They were in a kitchen, a disused kitchen; the range was gray with dust, the shelves empty. "Wait here a minute till we see if they were alarmed by the sound," whispered Greg. "Keep on this side away from the windows." They waited, holding their breaths to listen. Not a sound was to be heard through the dark house except the rats scurrying behind the plaster.