"Come on!" Toffee yelled. "Up to the roof!"
"What for?" Gerald Blemish said bitterly. "He's gone, now."
"Well, at least we can wave goodbye," Toffee said. She started rapidly toward the door.
"My!" Cecil Blemish said, picking his way carefully over the prone figure of the Colonel. "Look at all the water in here. The old gaffer got the water pipes, two out of two."
It was barely seconds later when the skylight door at the top of the hotel flew open and Toffee and the matching Blemishes ran out onto the roof. They scanned the distant sky as they moved.
"He's gone!" Toffee cried despairingly. "He's clear out of sight!"
The brothers stopped and looked at each other without hope.
"Well," Cecil muttered. "There goes everything."
Then suddenly the trio straightened as a small voice called Toffee's name. It might have come from anywhere and it might have been any voice, it was so weak. Toffee whirled about, and instantly her gaze darted to the flag-pole at the other end of the roof. There, like a flag unfurled, Marc was clinging to the top ornament for dear life.
"Marc!" Toffee screamed and ran to the pole. "Grab the rope and I'll pull you down!"