"I'll have you out in a jiffy now." Garry tapped the message to him, and then he slid down the rope. Dick and Ruth came running to him.
"Must have something to pry off that shutter with. My axe isn't strong enough," he told them.
"Oh, I know what," whispered Ruth. "I stumbled over something a minute ago, and it was a crowbar. Darius, the blacksmith, must have forgotten to take it in."
"Fine, let's have your riata, Dick. There, I'll loop it around my wrist and go back up the rope. In the meantime, you tie an end of it to the crowbar and I can haul it up to me."
So saying, Garry swarmed up the rope again. Arriving at the height of the window, he manoeuvered until he had twisted the free end of the rope around his foot several times, thus preventing himself from slipping.
Then he set to work to pry the shutter loose. Fortunately it did not long resist.
"Look out below," he warned softly, and with a loud thud the shutter fell into the alley below. Phil was waiting in the window.
"Quick, slide down after me. Lose no time, Phil," ordered Garry.
Down he went, the friction smarting his hands. In less time than it takes to tell, Phil was down after him. "Never mind the riata on the chimney. Away we go," said Garry.
"Follow me," ordered Ruth, and she sped away followed by the three chums. They were out of sight not a moment too soon, for as they turned a corner, running across a lawn to deaden their footsteps, they heard a howl of rage.