John and Sally climbed out of the cab and started back down the block
as the cabby drove slowly in the other direction. They crept along the side
of the house and peeked around the corner. Through the back window they
could see the two men drinking beer at a kitchen table as they studied a
city street map. The smaller of the two traced a path down the map with
his finger while the other made notes in a small book.
Sally and John went part way back down the driveway, then stopped to
talk.
"I think we should call the police now," whispered Sally.
"We don't have any real proof yet," John whispered back. "We've
got to find out where they're keeping the bikes."
He looked back along the side of the house and saw some steps leading
down to a basement door. Before Sally could stop him he crept back and went
down to investigate. The door at the bottom of the stairs was unlocked.
"I'm going in to take a look," he whispered back to Sally.
"If the crooks come out, give me a yell."
"I don't think you should," she whispered, but it was too
late. John had already slipped through the door and into darkness.
Sally followed him down the stairs and peered into the pitch black cellar.
She couldn't see him at all so she turned and looked nervously along the
driveway toward the back of the house. The minutes seemed like hours as
she kept lookout and waited for John to reappear. Finally she couldn't stand
it any longer so she turned back to the basement.
"John ... John! What are you doing in there?" she hissed.
"I'm coming in to help, you're taking too long."
"Shhh!" John hissed back. "Don't make any noise. I've
found some bikes in here. There must be dozens, all stacked together, but
I can't find mine. It's too dark to...Wait a minute."
There was a moment of silence, then suddenly a great crash sounded in
the darkness. Sally gasped.