Sooner or later his strength must fail, some one would surely espy him
and cry on the chase, he must be surrounded and overwhelmed: while to
hide behind some ash-barrel was not only ignoble but downright
fatuous: faith the most sublime in his _Kismet_ couldn't excuse any
hope that, eventually, he wouldn't be discovered and ignominiously
routed out.
Very well, then! So be it! Calmly P. Sybarite elected to venture
another and deeper dive into amateurish malfeasance; and gravely he
studied the inoffensive building whose back premises he was then
infesting.
It seemed to offer at least the negative invitation of desuetude. It
showed no lights; had not an open window--so far as could be
determined by straining sight aided only by a faint reflection from
the livid skies. One felt warranted in assuming the premises to be
vacant. Encouraging surmise! If such were in fact the case, he might
hope soon to be counting his spoils in the privacy of his
top-floor-hall-bedroom, back....
At the same time, to one ignorant of the primary principles of
house-breaking, the problem of negotiating an entrance was of
formidable proportions.
To break a basement window was feasible, certainly--but highly
inadvisable for a number of obvious reasons.
To force a window-latch required (if memory served) a long flat-bladed
knife--a kitchen knife; and P. Sybarite happened to have no such
implement about him.
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