It was furthermore a question if he could even squeeze through the
window space.

Andy had nothing to make a rope of. The old pieces of carpet could not
be utilized in any way. If he could force his body through the window
head first, it was a dive to go feet first on a dangerous drop.

Andy investigated the aperture, experimented, took in the situation in
all its various phases. Finally he decided what he would do.

He had unearthed a long ironing board from a corner of the room. He
pulled a heavy dresser up to the window, and opened one of its drawers a
few inches.

By slanting the ironing board, he managed to get its broad end out
through the window. Then he dropped it flat, with its narrow end held
firmly under the projecting drawer.

Andy got flat on the board, squirmed along it, and just managed to
squeeze through the window space.

At the end of five minutes he found himself extended outside on the
board. A touch might throw it out of position and drop him like a shot.
Very carefully he arose to his feet and backed against the clapboards of
the house.

Andy felt sideways and up over his head. He soon located what he knew to
be there--two lightning rod staples. The rod itself had rusted away. The
staples had been used to hold up a vine. This drew bugs, Miss Lavinia
declared, and had been torn down.

Andy hooked his finger around one of the staples. He got one foot on the
window sill clear of the board. The other foot he lifted in the air.

Stooping and getting a hold on the side of the ironing board, Andy
gently slid it out from its holding place and upright.

He brought it and himself erect. Moving up his hand, he transferred its
grasp to the second iron staple higher up the side of the house.

Now Andy rested the board on his toes. He clasped it like a shield
against his body, its broad end nearest his face.

Beyond its edge he took a keen glance. The moon shone brightly. The
nearest object it showed was a high, broad-branched thorn apple tree.

It stood about twelve feet from the house, and its top was perhaps as
far below his foothold.

"It's my only show," said Andy. "I've got to coast it, or get all torn
up."

He let go his hold of the staple. Instantly he had a hand firmly
grasping either side of the ironing board Andy dropped to a
past-centre slant.

Giving his feet a prodigious push against the window sill, he shot
forward and downward.

For an instant Andy sailed through the air. He