Presently, Penny heard a door slam. She peeped out into the hallway in time to see Cron, Hoges and another man disappearing down the stairway.
"The coast is clear now!" she thought. "If I can just find some way to enter that room while they're away!"
She made another tour of the hall, trying the door. As she had anticipated it was locked.
Returning to the room she had just left, she went to the window and looked out. A wide ledge of stone extended along the wall of the building, connecting the windows. At best it offered a dangerous footing. Yet Penny was tempted to try to reach the adjoining room by means of it, for there was no other way to gain admittance.
She raised the window and looked down. Her courage nearly failed her. While the ledge was wide, it meant a long fall and instant death should she become dizzy and lose her balance.
"I can do it—easy," Penny told herself grimly.
Climbing out on the ledge, she clutched an overhanging telephone wire for support and cautiously eased herself along, an inch at a time. She kept her gaze ahead, resisting the temptation to glance toward the deserted street.
She reached the next window which was open an inch at the bottom. The gap provided a finger-hold and enabled her to raise the window. With a sigh of intense relief, she dropped lightly to the floor.
She found herself in a large, studio room, well illuminated by two sky lights. Obviously, several artists had been working there, for the place was cluttered with easels, palettes, and discarded paintings. A number of pictures of uniform size stood in a little pile, face downward.
Curiously, Penny lifted one to gaze at it.