There was a lurching noise as some of the dry branches gave way, but the main branch seemed to hold. Years ago, someone had nailed it pretty firmly to the wall, and he guessed it would probably take his weight He hung on to it with one hand, and then swung himself around and held on to it with both. Gene perched himself up on the verandah railing, and reached around to test the strength of the creeper. Once he reached the bottom he paused again, his ears pricked up, hiding as deeply as he could in the dart shadow of the wall and the trees. Then he gently slithered off the top, swinging down to the ground with his feet scraping on the brick. When the rope was wound in, he positioned the aluminum rod on the other side of the spikes, and let the rope down on the Semple side of the wall. The place is enormous, they'll never see me.' All I'm going to do is hop over the wall. 'Maggie, you're just making things sound awkward. At one time, he thought he heard a faint crackling of leaves and twigs, but when he paused to catch the sound more distinctly, he realized it was probably just a bird in the upper branches of the oaks. Every now and then he stopped to listen for dogs, but the whole estate was buried deep in darkness and silence. Gene skirted along the southern side of the house, almost as far as the gravel drive that came from the main gateway. He switched off the car's engine and sat there for four or five minutes, listening to the soft rustle of the night. He carried a small canvas bag with Mace gas and anti-dog sprays, a coil of rope around his shoulder, and a long-barreled. He was driving a rented, dark-blue Matador, and he was dressed in a black, polo-neck sweater, black corduroy pants, and a charcoal-gray cap pulled down over his eyes.

It was a few minutes after eleven Thursday night when he arrived outside the Semple mansion.

'But it depends where it's directed, don't you think?' At last he had the rope firmly in position, and he started to climb up it, gasping and sniffing and praying that the old rusted spikes were strong enough to take his weight. The first time, he threw too short, and the next two shots went over but the rod refused to catch. 'You really fell head over heels this time, didn't you?'

Crossroads brave app