Bob was the first to reach the ledge, which was about two feet above the ground level and well protected from the onslaughts of the storm.
His flashlight revealed the figure of a man, swathed in a dark blanket, jammed up against the window.
Bob was reaching for the blanket when Arthur Jacobs seized his arm.
“Don’t. We’d better wait until we can get your uncle down here.”
“No,” decided Bob, “we’ll find out what this is all about right now.”
With that he pulled the blanket off the figure and stared down into the pain-wracked eyes of the guard who was usually on duty on his floor. A gag, which had been ruthlessly put in place, made speech for the captive out of the question.
“Run for help!” Bob told Arthur Jacobs and the filing chief departed as rapidly as his short legs would carry him.
While he was waiting for help, Bob busied himself in an effort to unfasten the captive’s bonds.
Picture wire had been used to bind the man’s hands and wrists and the gag was of rough, heavy material which was held in place by strips of adhesive tape. It was to this that Bob gave his first attention for from the expression in the guard’s eyes he knew that the gag was causing him untold agony.
With capable but gentle fingers, Bob worked at the gag until the cruel bandage was freed. He bent down close to hear the first whisper from the man’s lips.