Moreover, he must be away from the house with the dawn-first, because Sally Fortune might waken, guess where he had gone, and follow him; secondly because the news of what had happened at Drew's place might reach Wood at any hour.
So he lay trying to fight the thought of Sally from his mind and concentrate on some way of getting back to Drew without riding the gauntlet of the law.
The sleep which stole upon him came by slow degrees; or, rather, he was not fully asleep, when a sound outside the house roused him to sharp consciousness compared with which his drowsiness had been a sleep.
It was a knocking at the door, not loud, but repeated.

At the same time he heard Jerry Wood cursing softly in a neighbouring room, and then the telltale creak of bedsprings.
The host was rousing himself a second time that night.

Or, rather, it was morning now, for when Anthony sat up he saw that the hills were stepping out of the shadows of the night, black, ugly shapes revealed by a grey background of the sky.

A window went up noisily.
"Am I runnin' a hotel ?" roared Jerry Wood.

"Ain't I to have no sleep no more?
Who are ye ?" A lowered, muttering voice answered.
"All right," said Jerry, changing his tone at once.