It was so easy that Mark felt a trifle worried. His device was crude, and the priest had never before been so easily deceived.
It was midnight when a big automobile containing Saunders, his ex-fireman friend and Mark, drew up cautiously on a side street near the Ministry. The men at first walked quietly past the house. They saw a light in the apartment occupied by Ruth, but there seemed to be no other light within. They then walked around the block, passing a policeman at the corner, and entered the alley behind the Ministry on the other side, out of the bluecoat's sight. There was no one in the back yard, and Saunders easily effected an entrance into the garage, which was not far from the house. Taking from his pocket an ordinary hot-water bag, he knocked the lock off the gasoline tank and proceeded to fill the bag with gasoline. Then he turned to Mark.
"That's all back here for you. Leave the rear work to me. Go around, you two, and get the ladder. In fifteen minutes I'll have a fire at the back door. You'll probably see the light. As soon as you hear cries from the house, listen well and you'll know whether or not the guard has rushed back. The big door-window on the balcony is always left open so that the guard can command the window of Miss Atheson's room, and you can easily hear him open and close the inside door. If he doesn't leave, the game's up. As soon as you are sure he's gone, throw up the ladder. If you get Miss Atheson, don't wait for me. Rush her to the automobile and back to the hotel. I'll take care of myself. Now go on, and wait for the big noise."
The three men moved toward the door, but fell back when they saw a dark figure plainly outlined against the dim light behind him. Saunders said something under his breath. The ex-fireman turned pale, for he thought it was a policeman.
"The country is beautiful in the autumn, isn't it, Mark?"
Mark was as embarrassed as any small boy caught in truancy.
"I thought you took things rather quietly, Father—I might have known it was too good to be true. What did you come here for? You surely knew it was something we could not have you concerned in."
The priest laughed at Mark's rueful tone.
"You should have known better, Mark, than to think I could be so easily deceived. I am going to be mixed up in anything that concerns the welfare of Ruth. Besides," he added, with another quiet laugh, "I heard everything you two said this morning. I saw Saunders coming down the hall as I was leaving, and, as it was rather early for a casual visit, I came back to see what he was up to."
"Then why in—I beg your pardon, Father—why in all common sense," blurted out Saunders, "did you come here? You can't help, and we are taking the only possible way."