He waited at the top of the first landing for his pursuer who rushed forward, never for a moment dreaming of the reception that was in store for him.
Peace waited till the man came within reasonable distance; he then kicked out with his right leg and struck his pursuer with his foot full in the face. The latter rolled from the top of the first flight of stairs to the bottom.
Peace heard strange voices below, which he concluded, naturally enough, proceeded either from the police or a chance passenger in the street.
Feeling that he was in a critical position, and that there was now no possibility of his escaping through the door, by which he had effected an entrance into the premises, he made at once for the roof.
The warehouse was a five-storied one, and he did not pause until he had reached the topmost story.
As he had anticipated, he discovered a trap-door, by means of which he could, in all probability, be able to reach the roof of the building.
He drew some bales of goods underneath the trap, and upon these he mounted.
The door was fastened on the inside by two bolts. These he endeavoured to draw back, but they were rusty, and not easily removed.
He heard footsteps ascending the stairs; heard also voices.
Every moment was now precious.