Billie evidently felt no desire to acquaint Judge Moran with my real identity, and perhaps would thus experience some difficulty in procuring me food,--possibly would make no effort even until night.

I succeeded in pushing aside the flap over the key-hole, without making any alarming noise, and applied one eye to the aperture.

There was little to be seen--merely the end of a bench, and a pair of bare, black feet.

The judge's sole remaining servitor doubtless, doing a turn at guard duty.
As I gazed, some outside noise aroused him, and he went softly pattering down the hall.
The same sound startled me also, and I dropped the flap, clambering upon the chair so as to see without.

It was a hundred feet to the main road, mostly velvety turf between, with a few trees partially obscuring the view.