“Yaas, suh, boss, I understand.” George smiled again, and presently the elevator stopped.
With Mr. Sanborn in the lead, Dorothy walked along a corridor and up a narrow flight of stairs. The detective opened a door at the top and the damp cold of the night swept in upon them. A moment later they were crossing the flat roof of the apartment house toward a small group who stood near the parapet at the roof’s edge. As they drew nearer, she saw that the group awaiting them was composed of Bill Bolton, Howard, and a stranger. They were standing beside a small crane.
The secret service man nodded a greeting and turned to Dorothy. “We are directly above Janet’s window, which is three flights below,” he said quietly, and glanced at the luminous dial of his wrist-watch.
“And you’re going to let me down with the auto-crane?” she asked with just a tremor of excitement in her voice.
“That’s the idea. It’s perfectly safe. Bill tested it this afternoon.”
Dorothy gave a little laugh. “Oh, I’m not scared, Uncle Sanborn.”
“I know you aren’t, my dear.”
“When do I take off?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“All set now, then, please.”