This was obvious. The slates were splitting off in the growing heat, and the rafters below were burning fiercely. It would be only a question of seconds when everything would tumble in at once.
Having seen that Howard and the girl had obeyed him, Nick then attacked the fearsome task of climbing the roof with the weight of the old musician, and getting down the other side.
He accomplished the feat, and then saw that Howard Milmarsh was on the ladder at the top, ready to help him. The girl had already been carried or had climbed herself to the ground and safety.
“No, no!” cried Carter to Howard. “Go down! I can manage. The ladder won’t bear three of us.”
It called for all the iron nerve possessed by the detective to crawl across the remainder of the roof, carrying the dead weight of Roscoe Silvius, and it was a ticklish thing to work his way over the edge of the building to the ladder. One false step would have hurled both headlong down.
But that false step was never taken. The detective seldom made anything of the kind at any time. There was no fireman at the top of the ladder to assist him by relieving him of his burden.
He knew that was because Milmarsh had not yet reached the bottom, but he could not afford to wait. The entire roof was likely to collapse at any instant.
Slowly he began to descend. As he placed his foot on the third rung from the top, he heard the ladder crack loudly about halfway down.
“Quick!” came the shout from below. “The ladder’s sprung! Slide down! It’s your only chance!”
But that was just what Nick, having only one hand free, could not do. He kept on moving downward as fast as he could, step by step. There was nothing else to be done.