Cautiously, Marc took hold of the ropes, first one hand, then the other.
"Hold on tight!" Toffee cautioned and slowly began lowering him toward the roof. As she did so she glanced around at the twins. The two, in what seemed a rather pretty but confused tribute, were holding their hats stiffly over their hearts.
Toffee turned back to the pole, renewed her efforts, and brought Marc safely to ground. Then as he clung to the pole for security, she removed a couple of metal weights from the ropes and slipped them into the pockets of his jacket. Briefly, she kissed him on the forehead.
"You damned floater!" she breathed with relief and affection.
Gingerly, Marc released his hold on the pole and smilingly discovered that he was again stationary. With Toffee's help, he made his way to where the twins were standing, their hats still clasped to their chests.
"Retreat's over," Toffee said. "You can put the lids back on."
In unison the twins swung their hats up to their heads and held out the revolvers they had been holding under them.
"Get 'em up!" they snarled in chorus. "You're coming with us."
CHAPTER IX