Then he bethought himself of the tree outside of the window. He remembered that the branch swung very close to the house. Could he make his way out of the window, then he could swing onto the branch, and so descend to the ground with no danger of being discovered.
The only element of danger was that the man should wake as he was making his escape. Still Garry reflected, he had been in a tight place ever since the moment he had entered the passageway, and this would be no worse.
Assuring himself that the man was still sleeping soundly, he began to edge his way from under the bed. His way across the floor was one of infinite precaution, taking many minutes. After he had squirmed for a foot or so, he would stop and listen to see if the regular breathing of the man on the bed continued. Once as he was half way across the floor, he heard a creak, as the sleeper rolled over in his slumbers.
Garry didn't dare to move for nearly five minutes after this. Then he started again, and after what seemed an age, reached the window.
Cautiously he raised himself up, and thrust a leg out of the window. Then followed the other, and he was sitting on the sill. Leaning out, he let his body fall towards the limb, caught it, and swung clear of the window.
In a trice he had thrown his leg up over the tree, his practice in the gymnasium making this an easy feat. Crawling carefully along the limb, he worked his way to the trunk, and then the descent to the ground was accomplished without trouble. Without bothering to put on his shoepacks, he sped away from the house.
Finally he reached the road, and here he slipped the heavy shoepacks on, and in a few moments had rejoined his companions where they were nervously waiting under the big elm.
They hailed his coming with delight, pounding him on the back and shaking hands gleefully.
"What luck, old topper?" was Dick's first question.
"All the luck in the world, boys. Tonight our quest was crowned with success!"