"I'll slip out the first chance I get to-morrow," he thought. "Right after breakfast will be a good time."
Fortune favored him. Soon after Wakely had brought in the morning meal, he went out, locking the door after him. Roy heard another door close, and guessed rightly that his captor had left the building.
"Now's my chance!" thought the boy.
Putting into operation his knowledge of ropes and knots, and, by using his strength, which was not small, he managed to loosen his bonds. In a few minutes he was standing in the middle of the room free.
"Now for the door!" Roy murmured. "I wonder if I can break it open, or work the lock?"
A moment's inspection served to show him that to open the portal was out of the question. The lock was a heavy one. The door itself was solid, not one with panels, and, after trying it cautiously, for Roy did not want to make a noise, he decided he could not escape that way.
There was only one other means,—the window. He went to it and looked out. It was fully sixty feet from the ground, and there was nothing, in the shape of a lightning rod, or a rain-pipe leader to cling to. Nothing but the bare tenement house wall, broken here and there with other windows.
Roy leaned far out. He knew it was useless to shout, as the noise from the electric shop drowned all other sound. Nor could he see any one whose attention he might attract.
It was necessary for him that he work quickly, for Wakely, or one of his friends, might return any moment. Yet how could Roy get out of the window and to the ground?
He looked about the room for something to aid him. His first thought was of the bed clothes. He had read of persons tying sheets together, after tearing them into strips, and so making a rope. But there were no sheets on his bed, merely a small blanket, for it was warm weather. There was nothing in the shape of a rope in the room. It looked as if Roy would have to remain a prisoner.