Twisting the line double, Bob fastened one end to a chimney, and, grasping the other, he started to lower himself down over the edge of the roof.
Bob came down the last ten feet with a great rush, thereby tearing some of the skin from his hands.
But he shut his teeth hard, and though the pain was great, he made no sound.
Darting across the yard, he entered the back door of the house on the next street. The door led to a dark and narrow hall-way. Once inside, Bob closed the door, and finding a bolt on it, quickly slipped the fastening into place.
By feeling around the youth found that there was no way out of the hall-way, except by going up the stairs or down into the cellar. He followed the former course, and soon found himself on an upper landing, where a broad staircase led to a large and well-lighted front hall.
He lost no time in descending the stair, doing so almost silently, as the steps were heavily carpeted.
But below the hall-way was of polished wood, and his footsteps rang out clearly as he passed to the door.
This was locked and bolted, and the youth had considerable difficulty in opening it.
“Hullo, young man, what are you doing here?” suddenly demanded a sharp voice, and a side door opened from a store, and a heavy-set man rushed out.
“I was trying to escape from the house on the next street,” explained Bob. “Some men weren’t treating me right.”