The woman grabbed the lad by the foot and attempted to force him out, but he was not to be thrust into the hands of his pursuers thus easily, and after several attempts the woman desisted and ran screaming through the house.
Immediately Jack pushed up the window and dropped lightly into the room. The window he closed and locked almost with a single move in the very faces of his trailers. Then he turned and dashed across the room, making for the front door.
But by the time he reached it he found this means of exit barred, for some of the pursuers, the moment they had seen him spring into the window, had rushed around to the front entrance.
Realizing that there was no hope of escape in that direction, the lad turned and dashed up the stairs to the second floor. There, in a back room, as his gaze roved about, he beheld a trap door in the ceiling. Pulling a chair to the middle of the room, he mounted it, laid his hands against the trap door and pushed.
The door fell off on the outside, and a moment later Jack was on the roof. The trap door he put back in its place, and sat on it a moment to regain his breath.
As he sat there looking around for some means of escape there came a fierce thumping on the door upon which he sat. Jack smiled to himself slightly.
“They can only come up one at a time,” he muttered. “I guess I can take care of them.”
He arose. There came another resounding smash, and the trap door flew off, splintered by a fierce blow.
Jack dropped to his knees beside the opening.