"I'm not going to look again until I think it's ten o'clock," declared Frank. But he could not resist, and, after waiting what seemed like an hour he glanced at the time-piece again. It was half-past nine.
"Half an hour more," he announced. "That will be the longest of all."
It was, but ten o'clock came at last. Cautiously the boys stole from their hiding places. They picked up the ladder and looked toward the asylum building. It was dark, save where a faint light showed through one window, and Frank knew this was in a corridor.
"Do you know which is the window of his room?" asked Ned.
"Yes," replied Frank. "It's the third one from the right hand end of the building, in the second story. The ladder will more than reach, as the windows are low ones."
Foot by foot they advanced, listening every little while, to find out if their approach was noticed. But there was only the wind and rain to be heard.
"Here we are," whispered Frank, as they came to a halt beneath the window of room twenty-eight. "Now help me raise the ladder."
Four pair of sturdy young arms soon accomplished this, though it was hard work. While the three boys steadied the ladder at the bottom, Frank went up it. He held some pebbles in his hand and, when he could safely throw them at the glass he did so, making the signal agreed upon with his father. The little stones made more noise than he supposed they would, but he hoped no one but Mr. Roscoe would hear them. Frank, standing on the ladder under the window waited anxiously.
Suddenly the window sash, to the left of the one where he thought his father was, went up softly. A head was thrust out.
"I wonder if I have made a mistake," Frank thought. The next instant he heard a voice calling to him.