"Do whut I tell you!" roared Hank, "An' hurry!"
There was more vehemence in his voice than I'd heard at any previous time. It shocked, startled me into activity. I leaped for the side of the draw-chain opposite to that upon which Grimper was hanging limp; began climbing like a monkey, hand-over-hand. The dangling chain drew taut above me, and I saw that Hank, too, was climbing. I looked for Grimper—
And Grimper was above me! As Hank and I climbed one side of the chain, the agent's inert body was being hauled up the other. He reached the cool sanctuary of the skylight before we did, lifted to safety by our combined weights, before I remembered the old monkey-weight-and-pulley puzzle that one time caused a near-riot in a staid academy of savants!
So all's well that ends well. It was an easy matter to unlash Grimper when we had reached the roof, an easier job yet to hurry him down a fire escape to the ground. And as my ever-logical friend had guessed, the fire-laddies put out the blaze before it spread to adjacent buildings; thus what might have proved a serious loss to America's offense was held to a minimum. One building which could be easily replaced.
We didn't leave town that night. We were exhausted, for one thing; for another, Hank was in no condition to board a train. His suitcase had been destroyed in the fire, and as he ruefully confessed to me when I asked his reason for backing away from the wildly cheering mob that escorted us to our hotel, the fire had got in one last, farewell lick just as we escaped. Said caress had singed a neat, round hole in Hank's southern exposure.
And the next day there came a hurry-call from Johnny Day. They had caught the saboteurs, or thought they had, and would we please come and identify them?
So we did, and they were, and the Jerries were taken into custody by a detail of granite-eyed soldiers who gripped their Garands as if they hoped Hitler's hirelings would break for freedom. Which of course they didn't. No longer holding the whip-hand, they were the meekest, humblest looking skunks you ever saw.
It was then that Grimper, so trim and fresh that you would never know he'd almost been baked Grimper au jus, moved forward to shake Hank's hand.
"Last night, Mr. Cleaver," he said, "I apologized to you. This morning I want to repeat that apology and wish you all possible success when you leave here."