I looked at my man. What should I do? Should I leave him and go to Craig? If I did, might he not pick us both off, from a safe vantage point, by some sharp-shooting skill?
There was nothing I could do.
Kennedy was clinging to a lightning rod on the cross.
It broke.
I gasped as Craig reeled back. But he managed to catch hold of the rod further down and cling to it.
The crook seemed to exult diabolically. Holding with both hands to the cross, he let himself out to his full length and stamped on Kennedy's fingers, trying every way to dislodge him. It was all Kennedy could do to keep his hold.
I cried out in agony at the sight, for he had dislodged one of Craig's hands. The other could not hold on much longer. He was about to fall.
Just then I saw a face at the little window opening out from the ladder to the outside of the steeple—a woman's face, tense with horror.
It was Elaine!
Quickly a hand followed and in it was a revolver.