He paused here for a moment to listen; then, cautioning Burton to be silent, moved on again across a small back yard and through a gate into a lane that ran at right angles to the alleyway by which both had entered the house--and, a minute later, they were crouched against a building, a half block away, where the lane intersected the cross street.
Here Jimmie Dale peered out cautiously.

There was no one in sight.

He touched Burton's shoulder, and pointed down the street.
"That's your way, Burton--mine's the other.

Hurry while you've got the chance.

Good-night." Burton's hand reached out, caught Jimmie Dale's, and wrung it.
"God bless you!" he said huskily.