I stepped softly onto the front porch. There were two windows and a door. The door was locked.

I slipped over and felt the doors of the attached garage. They were secured with a hasp and padlock. But that still wasn’t proof there was no car inside. I slipped around in back again, sticking close to the wall to stay married to the dark bulk of the house. In addition to the door, there was a small window in the rear of the garage. It was latched on the inside.

I bumped into something. It was a bamboo pole, leaning against the roof. Using the butt of it, I knocked out one of the small panes of the window. Shards of glass tinkled, not too loudly, on the concrete floor inside. Reversing the pole, I shoved it full length in through the opening and swung it from side to side. It encountered nothing. I groped around inside for the latch, released it, and slid the window open. It took only a moment to wiggle through and fall on the floor inside. I could have cut myself on the glass under me, but I was too numb with exposure to tell or care.

It was growing lighter. After a while I could see the outline of a door going into the house. I stood up and tried it. It was locked. I looked around the garage for something with which to jimmy it open. It was going to turn colder, with this north wind blowing, and another twelve to twenty-four hours in wet clothing might be more exposure than I could stand. There could be blankets inside, or I might even be lucky enough to find dry clothes.

The only tool I could see was an old claw-hammer hanging from two nails on the rear wall beside the window. Maybe I could use it to beat in one of the panels of the door, but it would make enough noise to rouse everybody in this end of the county. Then I noticed it was hinged to swing outward. I pulled one of the nails on which the hammer had been hanging, straightened it, and drove the pins out of the hinges. It took only a minute to pry the door out and set it aside. I released the locking plunger on the inside knob, and rehung the door, driving the pins back in place.

It opened into the kitchen. In the growing light I could make out a small gas stove and refrigerator, then the counter and sink at the rear wall to the left. On the right there was a small dining area with a table and two chairs, and a heavily curtained window. I went through the connecting doorway, trailing water on the floor.