I imagine you're a blunderer anyway," he added impudently; "your fingers are too thick.

If you hadn't been so anxious to learn when Wherry was likely to go," guessed Carl suddenly, "you wouldn't have listened and creaked at the keyhole last night.

And more than likely you'd have gotten that creak over on me to-night." Kronberg's shifting glance roved desperately to the doorway.
"Try it," invited Carl pleasantly.

"Do.

And I'll help you over the threshold with a little lead.