She could stay at either end of the run, just as she took a notion.

Wouldn't hurt the kid a bit--he'd be bigger then, and the outdoors would make him grow like a pig.

Thinking of these things, Bud walked briskly, whistling as he neared the little green house, so that Marie would know who it was, and would not be afraid when he stepped up on the front porch.
He stopped whistling rather abruptly when he reached the house, for it was dark.

He tried the door and found it locked.

The key was not in the letter box where they always kept it for the convenience of the first one who returned, so Bud went around to the back and climbed through the pantry window.