lamp low and placed it on the floor at his feet, so that
it should not unduly shape him against the window; he pulled gently on
the line. It gave; a guarded whistle came softly from the dark shadow of
the jail. Pete detached the captive balloon, with a blessing, and pulled
in the fishline. Knotted to it was a stout cord, and in the knot was a
small piece of paper, rolled cigarette fashion. Pete untied the knot; he
dropped his coil of fishline out of the window, first securing the
stronger cord by a turn round his hand lest he should inadvertently drop
that as well; he held the paper to the light, and read the message:
Waiting for you, with car, two blocks north. Destroy MS.
Pete pulled up the cord, hand over hand, and was presently rewarded by a
small hacksaw, eminently suited for cutting bars; he drew in the slack
again and this time came to the end of the cord, to which was fastened a
strong rope. He drew this up noiselessly and laid the coils on the floor.
Then he penciled a note, in turn:
Clear out. Will join you later.
He tied this missive on his cord, together with the cigar clipper, and
lowered them from the window. There was a signaling tug at the cord; Pete
dropped it.
Pete dressed himself; he placed a chair under the window; then he
extinguished the lamp, took the saw, and prepared to saw out the bars.
But it was destined to be otherwise. Even as he raised the saw, he
stiffened in his tracks, listening; his blood tingled to his finger tips.
He heard a footstep on the stair, faint, guarded, but unmistakable. It
came on, slowly, stealthily.
Pete thrust saw and rope under his mattress and flung himself upon it,
all dressed as he was, face to the wall, with one careless arm under his
head, just as if he had dropped asleep unawares.
A few seconds later came a little click, startling to tense nerves, at
the cell door; a slender shaft of light lanced the darkness, spreading to
a mellow cone of radiance. It searched and probed; it rested upon the
silent figure on the bed.
"Sh-h-h!" said a sibilant whisper.
Peter muttered, rolled over uneasily, opened his eyes and leaped up,
springing aside from that golden circle of light in well-simulated
alarm.
"Hush-h!" said the whisper. "I'm going to let you out. Be quiet!"
Keys jingled softly in the dark; the lock turned gently and the door
opened. In that brief flash of time Pete Johnson noted that there had
been no hesitation about which key to use. His
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