Now, out in the street the cry sounded: "There he goes! Get him!" "Throw him down and hold him!" yelled another voice.
"Mercy!" gasped Mrs.Prescott.
"Don't be alarmed, my dear," smiled Mr.Prescott.

"It's only the natural aftermath of Tom Reade's newest startler." Was it?
Dick Prescott, after yawning twice, and before starting to disrobe, had decided that his adjustable screen was not fixed in the window of his bedroom as securely as it should be.

In endeavoring to fix it he found it necessary to remove the screen from the window.
Hardly had he done so when, gazing down into the darkness, he saw a dimly visible figure flitting over the ground below.
"Who's that ?" murmured Dick to himself.

"What's up ?" Whoever the prowler was, he was flitting over to the ash cans set out by a neighbor.

One can contained ashes only, the other contained various kinds of rubbish.