“No fooling?” gasped Jim.
“Yes, it was in that closet. Listen, we have got to get out of here. The two Gates—”
A cry broke out on the third floor and a door slammed. They waited to hear no more.
“Quickly, out the window with you,” cried Don. “We’ve got to clear this house on the double!”
Terry skipped through the window like lightning and Jim threw himself after him. Just before Don followed he could hear Arthur Gates roaring at the butler on the third floor. He joined his companions on the roof.
“Go on down and I’ll toss the cup to you,” he told Jim.
“Shall I take a chance by dropping off the roof?” asked Jim.
“No,” said Don. “You might break a leg, and you don’t know where you’ll land.”
Jim measured his distance and jumped up, catching the limb and swinging out on it with the agility of a monkey. He slid down the tree and dropped safely to the ground.
“Drop the cup,” he called.